You need 10-12 cloth diapers ($180) just to get through a regular Monday -- and that assumes you are then going to wash and dry the whole load to get it ready for Tuesday, and you will never do that, that's insane. So really you need more like 25 ($250) at least, plus the liners, which are still necessary to keep the diapers from turning into a swamp.
I decided I wanted to run a 5K this past May, when I read about the Minnesota State Fair Milk Run. For those of you unfamiliar with the Great Minnesota Get Together, it is a bacchanalia of dairy products, deep-fried candy bars, and foot-long corndogs. Non-edible fair highlights include (but are not limited to): butter sculptures, crop art, the fattest pig in all of the Minnesota, and dangling placentas in the Miracle of Birth barn. The state fair is the most Minnesotan of experiences; the Saint Paul Winter Carnival (where there is sometimes a palace—made out of ice—that doesn’t melt because it’s -25 here in the winter), a Gophers football game, and ice fishing may be Minnesotan, but nothing compares to the Minnesota State Fair. As a transplant from the hills of rural western Pennsylvania, I had never witnessed anything like the state fair, and it was love at first deep-fried-cheese-on-a-stick.
Fire Island is the kind of place you see in Nancy Meyers movies, with big, weathered houses plopped right on the beach, with steps leading down to white sand and the ocean. Tina Fey summers there with her family, and on our last day on the beach, we sat next to her. She’s very thin, but seems nice. It’s the kind of place where shoes are optional and people ride beach cruisers along the boardwalks in their bathing suits.
On Aug. 11, Mary Ellen Burris, a senior vice president of consumer affairs for Wegmens, a family-owned grocery chain in upstate New York wrote a blog post titled "Sky High Beef" to explain to customers why beef prices have risen lately.
Getting a restaurant reservation for a popular restaurant can sometimes feel like an impossible task. A friend of mine once wrote a long, lovely letter to a restaurant owner to get a reservation, while another friend was able to land a reservation by using a concierge service via his credit card. I tend to wait until the hype has died down a bit before making an attempt to dine at whatever restaurant just received a load of glowing reviews, or join a dinner party that managed to get a reservation through some kind of hookup.
Last month I moved from New York City to Delhi, first to volunteer and then to (hopefully) change careers. Finding a place willing to let me volunteer wasn’t hard; the next step is a little more daunting. In the meantime, I’ve become fascinated by Delhi’s street food. I've lived in India before, and while I did eat a lot of street food, I stayed away from a lot of the most delicious looking food because I was worried about getting sick. Of course, I still got sick all the time. This time I decided that if I was going to be sick either way, I might as well eat what I want. Plus, Delhi is huge, and the food on the street is so elaborate and varied and always-tempting. Most of the time I am too curious not to try.
So as my daughter's seventh birthday approached, it was clear we had to do a horse theme, which presented a conundrum: There are riding rings and stables around the area that will host birthday parties, and even a few pony purveyors who will bring one to your house for kids to ride. These options are, of course, rather expensive. I just have a really hard time dropping serious cash on little kid's birthday parties, and by "have a really hard time" I actually mean "don’t have the funds to do so."
Everyone knows how painful and expensive divorces can be, especially when two people can’t agree on amicable parting terms. But what about the costs associated with a broken engagement, or a case-of-cold feet?
I spent a week in Seattle recently - my sister had a wedding to attend, and I tagged along to shop and explore the city. The wedding was on a Saturday night. Our flight home was booked for the following day, connecting through O'Hare, and we were scheduled to arrive home just in time for her to get a full night's sleep before her nursing shift early Monday morning. We ended up missing our connection because we were stupid enough to think we had enough time between flights to go to the bathroom and get something to eat without running through O'Hare like romantic comedy heroines chasing after Chris Pine or whatever. We showed up at the gate two minutes after our plane finished boarding, and we knew it was the last flight home to Montreal that day.