What’s in my backpack: My still battered notebook full of ramblings, rants, and reviews, one not-so-brand-new hardbound notebook now scribbled with exciting to-do lists and notes from a jammed week in San Francisco, Mizuno running shoes, a round loaf of authentic San Francisco sourdough and a large can of clam chowder, (yes, I am still paleo and still allergic to shellfish – these are gifts for the 10-year-old), my computer mouse, hairbrush, business cards, and my laptop with charger.


What’s playing on my iPhone: Sleep Bot white noise


What’s next to me in 5B: A pretty black woman who is appreciatively small, (it’s a full redeye flight; stop judging me), wearing a cool pink jacket, pink and brown loafers, and coordinated pink nails and lipstick. I typically don’t abide by “matchy-matchy”, but she’s rocking it. Sadly the fat man next to her has just taken off his shoes, but I’m just far enough away to ignore his existence.


What’s on my body: A Trina Turk navy and white cotton halter, a no-name trippy blue short 3/4 sleeve jacket from Door County, white and cork BCBG wedges that I will undoubtedly regret later and be forced to change to the Mizunos, my new denim obsession – Paige ankle-length Skyline Skinny jeans, long gold chains, gold Gilt bangles, a seatbelt, my bling, tattoos, and the unmentionables.

What’s on my brain: Sleep. Home. Husband. Husband. Home. Sleep.


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