I’m sitting in a plastic chair outside the terminal A gates at Newark airport. It’s chilly inside; the recycled air feels both stale and cold. It’s barely 7 AM. The early morning energy at the airport is nice—despite not being my top choice of places to sit, I like the bustle of travel around me. At this time of day, people aren’t yet harried and exhausted—they’re all intent on getting somewhere, all purposeful and excited or focused and rushed. The people-watching is excellent. I wait for my cup of hot water with lemon (a safe bet while traveling) and watch people order. The world of early-morning coffee and breakfast orders in an airport is a fascinating microcosm—some people, barely awake and still sleepy-eyed, stick with coffee and milk. One woman opts for some sort of whipped cream-topped caramel-spiked macchiato. Two teenage boys ask for breakfast sandwiches with bacon and cheddar and chocolate croissants and hot chocolates. I suspect they’ll be hungry again within an hour.
Read moreRHUBARB CUSTARD CAKE
Here’s my new productivity plan: Tackle one small thing a day. Lately, that’s been cleaning my space in miniature increments (as in, one drawer at a time)—but I’m finding it to be incredibly effective. In the past, my productivity plan often looked something like this: Make a very long list of all the things you possibly could and should be doing, including but not limited to large, random life tasks like filing your insurance claims, fixing your water meter, writing thank you notes, and remembering to meditate. Of course, I’d also pile on all my work to-dos, and then my personal work to-dos (go write a book proposal! while you’re at it, remember the blog you write?).
Read moreDAD'S SUNDAE-INSPIRED CHOCOLATE CAKE
Well hello there, it’s been a minute hasn’t it? You’ll forgive me for not writing for a bit. I’ve been all over the place—from a quick jaunt to Italy (okay, just kidding it was nearly a week but I just wanted to try out saying “quick jaunt to Italy”, similar to how I’d like to say “had dinner al fresco at George’s villa”) to a couple days celebrating my 10th college reunion (YOU DO THE MATH OKAY).
Read moreCARROT CAKE POUND CAKE
The thermostat in my apartment reads 83 degrees when I walk in the door on Monday evening. My feet ache from walking around the city in the heat all afternoon. I drop my bags, strip off my clothes, and toss them in the washing machine before going upstairs to shower. Outside, all the sidewalk cafes are bustling and packed, as if the population has swelled to twice its regular size overnight.
Read moreRASPBERRY PEACH BUTTER CAKE
If I have to do lengthy travel (a drive of more than three hours or a train ride further than a few stops), I like to do it on gray, drizzly days. This makes being tucked into a train seat or behind the wheel of a car feel cozy, rather than suffocating. On brilliantly sunny days, I just wish I could be outside breathing fresh air and walking barefoot in the grass. (Note: This does not apply to short drives in nice weather, which is actually one of life’s great pleasures and involves loud and enthusiastic car singing.)
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