Corona Collabs (A Series With My Best Cooking Friend) Spicy Pasta Edition


We're having a global pandemic right now, are mostly relegated to our individual homes, and it just felt like an appropriate time to start blogging again. Just before the crazy began, my sister Sarah and I moved into a long-awaited apartment in Norfolk's Ghent area and I've got to say: if we're going to be socially distanced (a glum enough assignment to dampen anyone's ardor), I'd rather be stuck here than anywhere. There are enough remaining projects to keep us busy - it's amazing how organized one's home can be when you're actually in it long enough to realize how out at the elbows it was looking. I feel like we have an excuse (we just moved in), but I still can't stand living out of a suitcase and cardboard boxes. In that respect I've been quite productive. The one task remaining that still scares me is the hanging of my gallery wall. I've always been The Worst at hanging things because I don't have the patience to measure things properly and the wall always ends up looking as if a caffeinated woodpecker had got hold of it before anything is hung in the right place. It's not a good look, especially in a rental home. I'm excited to have the wall up - that isn't the problem - but I'm procrastibaking about it, and going for walks instead, and oversharing on social media, and doing basically anything except hang up my gallery.

When "Happy Valentine's Day" Is Not About My Boyfriend





 Last week I received an Instagram message in the middle of a busy morning from a username I didn't recognize. I clicked on it, expecting it to be one of those spam accounts and found instead a sincere message from a stranger:
"Girl, I don't even know you. I just stumbled across a blog post you wrote about being single two years ago and I am so so grateful...thank you for being vulnerable."
Following this, the reader linked to the blog post in question. To be honest, I have not given much thought to my blog in the last year. Curious as to which post she had read, I followed the link to an article from Valentine's Day 2018 that I'd called "When 'I'm Tired of Being Single' Means So Incredibly Much More."

It seemed like a commonplace enough Valentine's post for the career-single girl I was until June, 2019 when I met Andrew. (Some of you have asked for that story and although it feels like a strange thing to trumpet across the internet, if you truly want to hear how a sports-obsessed guy from Buffalo ended up winning my heart, I'll spill the tea). As I scanned that blog post, I smiled at 2018 Rachel who was so close to a turning point of finding joy in her singleness. That version of me had no idea how much light lay in the road ahead; nor how much grief.