When negotiating, put on your big girl pants and start with your BIG ask. What’s the most important thing you *really* want out of this? People usually start with their little asks, and then build up to the big one, because they’re scared to death and trying to warm up to it. But, the other side wants you to do

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Her name began with an H. I brought the card down to the hotel lobby with a little swing in my pulse—not because I was nervous to give it to her, although in retrospect, maybe I was. I didn’t want it to seem like I was bribing her. (Or, you know, ASKING FOR SEX.) “My first Kate Spade!” she exclaimed,

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I was recently told a story about a man named Uncle Bill who went to Colombia, stayed in a hostel, and climbed the ladder into his bunk—even after the four bottles of wine. Uncle Bill wasn’t your average uncle, though. Uncle Bill was eighty-nine years old. Which sounds like a lot, when you say it out loud, right? Eighty nine! What?! But

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There seems to be this idea that you should be ready for stuff before you do it. You should do your research. Come fully prepared. Think ahead. Not get taken by surprise. While that might be practical advice when you’re presenting an 8th grade science project, or pitching your boss an idea, or trying anal for the first time—SHE DID

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  Once upon a time, I to Home Ec in high school, which is hilarious, because based on tweets like these, I must have failed: I tweeted that out a couple of days ago after Googling “How to trick your mother-in-law into thinking canned tomato sauce is homemade,” which inevitably led me into chopping, like, four fucking onions with a

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  Ohhhhh, fucking shit. Those are kind of the words I want to say all the time, except if I did say them all the time, I’m pretty sure I’d start to get sick of them, like one does after eating tuna fish every day (not like I’d know anything about that) and that’s really my greatest fear, really: Lackluster

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You know what’s a real mind fuck? The whole “getting taken seriously” thing. Let’s be honest: How much do you just wish you could just hammer down some Doritos and blog about your mother-in-law? Or talk about the fact that, yes, you definitely swore under your breath at tourists last night, who, in their “Pura Vida Costa Rica!” childlike optimism,

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Google can’t save you. Here is a short but compelling list of things Google is good for: Figuring out how the hell to poach a wet, floppy fish Ordering purple pimp costumes to wear to dinner at your in-law’s Frantically searching the correct pronunciation of the word “GIF”—before saying it out loud at your client meeting in 5 minutes And

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