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I watched Sleepless in Seattle last night.  And somewhere between the map, the letters, the radio show, and the trip to New York, I started thinking about following your heart. First of all, remember life before smartphones? 😂 Annie had a map. She wrote letters. She listened to a man on the radio and somehow felt a connection to someone she'd never met. And Becky, her best friend, basically encouraged all of Annie's shenanigans. So Annie followed her heart. But what I love is that Jonah followed his, too. This kid got on a plane and flew to New York City by himself . Which seems ridiculous even for a movie. 😂 His dad, Sam, was completely panicked and racing across the country trying to find him, while Jonah somehow made his way through New York City to the top of the Empire State Building. Because, you know...rom-com!  Watching it now, there was something else I noticed. The movie was filmed before 9/11. The Twin Towers are still part of the New York skyline. It's one of...

Twenty-five years ago this morning, I boarded my regular 8:15 a.m. United flight from LaGuardia to Denver. I made that trip all the time. Don and I were living in Connecticut. I was working for Einstein Bros. Bagels and traveled frequently to our corporate office in Colorado. Don worked in advertising in New York City. We didn't have Elli yet. What we didn't know, was that eight weeks later, on November 5, she would be born in China and would eventually become our daughter. My boarding pass is taped in my purple diary. It became part of our adoption story. That morning, though, it was just another Tuesday. Until it wasn't. Somewhere in the air, our plane changed course. We were told we were being diverted to Chicago, but no one would tell us why. At first, I was annoyed. I had a meeting in Denver. I couldn't get my cell phone to work. I was going to be late. It's strange to think about that now. Eventually, another passenger got through to someone on his ph...

There are some foods you forget five minutes after you eat them. And then apparently there is potato salad you remember for 30 years. We were invited to a Labor Day weekend BBQ today, and when I asked my friend what I could bring, she said, “A side dish.” Easy enough. They’re making burgers and steaks. Someone is bringing mac and cheese. There will be roasted squash, corn salad, dips, chips—all the things you want at an end-of-summer BBQ. And for some reason, my brain immediately went: Potato salad. But not just any potato salad. Thirty-ish years ago, when we lived in Texas, we used to go to a BBQ restaurant called Red Hot & Blue. It wasn’t fancy. It was the kind of place we’d pop into for lunch—casual, a little quirky, with funny pig artwork and sayings all over the walls. And boy, was it good. They had the BEST pulled pork sandwiches. Real Texas BBQ. The kind I still haven’t been able to find here in California. But the thing I remember just as clearly? The potato salad. I can st...

For years, I stood on a regular bathroom scale every single day. I watched the number go up or down, and called that "health tracking." It wasn't. After nearly a decade in the fitness industry, having free access to an InBody and several years coaching people toward better health, I finally bought a GE Smart Body Fat Scale to have at home. Apparently I've been measuring the least interesting thing on my body. Fair warning... This thing sends a tiny electrical current through your body every morning. Weird? Absolutely. Alarming? Not at all.  Keep reading... THE FIRST WEIGH-IN The first time I stepped on it, I expected... Weight. Instead, it handed me what felt like my annual performance review. Weight. Body fat. Muscle mass. Body water. Bone mass. Visceral fat. BMI. BMR. Metabolic age. At one point I expected it to ask if I'd flossed recently. 😂 THE OLD SCALE.... A regular scale measures gravity's opinion of your body. That's it. It can't tell whether ...

My life flashed before my eyes today. Again. It's the second time in a month. There's a busy intersection in Woodside that we cross every day to walk the dogs. A few weeks ago, the walk signal came on. We stepped toward the crosswalk when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a driver in the car to my left glance left, tap the brakes, and gun it right (without even looking to the right.) He missed us by inches. I may have yelled something less than inspirational. Since then, even when the walk signal says "Go," I wait a beat. Today, that one little habit may have saved us - again! The walk signal came on. I paused. A split second later, a car came flying through the red light. If we'd started walking when we were supposed to, we would have been standing in the middle of the intersection.  A few months ago I watched the cutest little chipmunk get hit by a car on this same street. The driver never stopped. I was convinced he was dead. He didn't move. Not an inch. ...

Last weekend we bought a bag of pears at the Pear Fair. As we were loading them into the car, Don looked at the bag and said, "There's no way we're going to eat all of these before they go bad." I looked at the same bag and thought... "We'll make a dessert and share it with our neighbors at Wine Down on Friday." Same pears. Completely different perspectives. Don saw fruit that might end up in the compost. I saw Friday night's dessert. It made me realize that's how I've always moved through life. When I discover a buttery Chardonnay, I immediately think of my mom because I know she'd love it. If I find a great restaurant, I text a friend. If I visit a museum, a winery, or a little festival that's worth the drive, I usually end up sharing it—not because I want people to know where I've been, but because I'm already thinking about who else might enjoy it. I've realized I don't just collect experiences. I collect things wo...

Years ago, someone told me that if you wear pink on Monday, you'll have a better day and a better start to the week. Is it true? I have absolutely no idea. I've never looked for a scientific study. I don't know if psychologists have measured the mood-boosting effects of a pink sweater or whether wearing a rosy blouse increases productivity by 17%. But I kind of hope no one ever disproves it. Because every Sunday night, when I'm deciding what to wear, I still think about it. And more often than not, I reach for something pink. Maybe it's because pink feels optimistic. It's hard to be in a bad mood wearing a color that reminds you of spring flowers, sunsets, cotton candy, and birthday frosting. Or maybe it's because the ritual itself matters. We all have little things we do that probably don't change the outcome—but they change us . A favorite coffee mug. A lucky pen. The same playlist before a big meeting. Walking the dog before opening the laptop. Sittin...

Shortly after we moved to Sacramento last August, Instagram started serving us ads for Ruth's Chris Steak House happy hour. A burger. A drink. Walking distance from our house from 4pm - 6pm.  One Friday we finally decided to check it out. We walked in around 5pm, looked around for the bar...and immediately realized every seat was taken. "Wow," we thought. "Happy hour must be popular." As we stood there deciding whether to stay or leave, we turned around. That's when we saw them. About a dozen people sitting quietly in chairs near the entrance. Toes tapping. Hands clenched.  All staring directly at us. They had been waiting for a table. We had unknowingly walked right past the entire line. There are few feelings more awkward than realizing an entire room thinks you just cut in front of them. We looked at each other, quietly backed out, and went to the restaurant next door for happy hour. Fast forward to this morning. After walking the dogs, we s...

What years of skipping breakfast, sugar cravings, and learning about food taught me about feeling like myself again. I remember pulling on my favorite pair of jeans one morning. I got them buttoned. Barely. Then I looked down. The dreaded muffin top. A few days later I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror...from the back. Where did those rolls come from? The muffin top had invited friends. And somewhere along the way... My butt packed up and moved out. What the fudge? I stood there thinking, I miss me. Not the wrinkle-free me. Not the twenty-five-year-old me. Just the woman who felt comfortable in her own skin. The woman who wasn't wondering if her shirt was long enough or promising herself that this Monday she'd finally start another diet. Then I realized something. I've had an unhealthy relationship with food for most of my life. As a kid, my mom handed me a piece of toast every morning as I walked out the door. Every morning... I'd throw it in the bushes. The bir...

One of the best marketing tools doesn't cost a thing. Well, maybe it costs a little. But it's worth the investment in a tank of gas. So, what is it? Leave the office. Go visit your stores. Walk your clubs. Spend time where your customers actually experience your brand. Watch what they do. What do they notice first? Where do they hesitate? Which team members create great interactions without anyone asking them to? What questions are customers asking? What are they taking photos of? Ignoring? Talking about? Dashboards tell you what happened. Your customers will show you why. Some of the best ideas I've implemented over the years didn't come from a conference room. They came from walking a club floor, talking with members, listening to team members, or simply noticing something that didn't feel quite right. Those visits have influenced everything from marketing campaigns and sales tools to club layouts, member communications, and training. It's easy to get buried i...

Making friends as an adult feels hard. It doesn't have to be. Here's the whole system. Get a dog Go outside and walk. You will meet so many people. Dog people talk to dog people. It's basically a cheat code. A dog gives you an instant, low-stakes reason to stop and chat with a total stranger. Don't want a dog? Doesn't matter Go outside and walk anyway. Talk to the dog people. They're friendly, I promise. Most people with dogs are happy to stop for thirty seconds and let you say hi. I'm telling you, in a week you'll meet 5 new people. Next time you see them they are already an acquaintance. Double down and go to a local neighborhood coffee shop. Sit by the dog people. You'll have the best neighborly conversation ever. Here in Sac, if you go to Temple, Peet's or Chez Luc you will find your people. One catch: take notes You're going to meet a lot of people fast, and you will forget names. So take notes. Like today. Don and I were walking, and we...

Last night I attended a Celebration of Life for a former colleague from my BevMo! days. Brian was our spirits buyer. He was also my self-appointed annoying brother—always teasing me, playing pranks, and finding new ways to make my job just a little more difficult...and a lot more fun. I left BevMo! in 2015. What surprised me most wasn't just hearing the stories about Brian. It was walking into a room filled with people I hadn't seen in more than a decade. I had forgotten how much history you can share with people you haven't seen in years. Within minutes, we were laughing like no time had passed. As the evening came to an end, we all found ourselves saying the same thing: "We should do this again...under happier circumstances." I hope we do. But I also know life has a way of getting busy. On the drive home, I called Melissa, another BevMo! coworker and friend who couldn't make it. Several people had asked about her throughout the evening. We talked the whole w...

A few weeks ago, my mom had been in the hospital for several days, so I flew to Surprise, Arizona, to stay with my 95-year-old dad. My parents live in a wonderful retirement community. Their apartment is small—one bedroom, one-and-a-half baths, a cozy little patio, and just enough room for my dad's books and all of my mom's holiday decorations. It's a constant negotiation. I slept on the sofa bed in the living room. Before going to bed that night, I turned off the lights around 11:30. I never even checked to see if the front door was locked. In their community, neighbors stop by, doors are often open during the day, and it simply felt...safe. The next morning, I was sitting on their little patio enjoying a cup of coffee before Dad woke up and our day began. Suddenly I heard him call from inside the apartment. "Kris... Mom's home." I froze. Home? How was that possible? She couldn't drive. She didn't even have the car. Why would the hospital release her ...

Last weekend we went wine tasting at a winery where we've been members for years. Or...were members. One of the first things we've done since I lost my job is pause the extras. Wine clubs, subscriptions, little luxuries. They're wonderful when life is steady. Right now, they can wait. While we were tasting, the gentleman pouring our wine asked the question everyone asks when they're making small talk. "So, what do you do?" Without even thinking, I answered with my old job. The words came out before my brain had a chance to catch them. The minute he walked away I thought, *Why did I say that?* The answer surprised me. Because I don't know what to say now. I'm no longer the title I've carried for years. I'm not ready to introduce myself as "unemployed." And "I'm looking for my next opportunity" somehow feels like an explanation instead of an introduction. It's strange how much of our identity gets wrapped up in our wor...

Yesterday, someone said something kind.   "I hope you can enjoy this time off." He meant well. I know he did. But the truth? I can't. Not yet. When you're employed, it's easy to assume that if someone is laid off with severance, they've been given a chance to breathe. Maybe they can sleep in, catch up on projects around the house, take a vacation, finish writing their book (hint, hint!), fill the calendar with fun day trips and hiking adventures, or simply enjoy the summer.  I used to think that too. Now I'm living it. Here's what it actually feels like. It feels like waking up every morning with uncertainty sitting at the edge of the bed. It feels like wondering how long it will take to find the next opportunity. It feels like doing mental math about mortgage payments, insurance, and all the responsibilities that don't stop just because your job did. People ask how I'm doing. I smile. "I'm exploring new opportunities." "I...

It started with a birthday gift.  I found my husband the cutest American flag T-shirt at the J.Crew Outlet. (It was going to be the gift from the dogs to Don, lol.) It wasn't loud or flashy. The stripes of the flag were made from old wooden boat oars—a clever nod to summer, the coast, and Americana. I thought it was perfect to wear on the 4th of July. His response surprised me. "I don't know if I can wear this." Not because he didn't like it. Because he wasn't sure what people would assume about him if they saw an American flag on his shirt. That stopped me. Somewhere along the way, a symbol that was once broadly understood has become something people feel they have to explain. Whether you see that as good, bad, or inevitable isn't really my point. What fascinated me was how quickly we all start asking the same question: **What story will people tell about me before I ever get a chance to tell it myself?** That's not just a political question. It's...

Dolly Parton is opening a business to compete with Buc-ee's. I honestly didn't see that coming. Now, if you've never been to Buc-ee's, you're probably thinking, it's a gas station. A convenience store.  That's where you are wrong. Oh so wrong. This majestic retail destination sits up on a hill and beckons you to go out of your way to get there. You are pulled to it like a magnet. My first Buc-ee's experience was in Sevierville, Tennessee, Dolly's hometown. I'm from Northern California and had never heard of the place. Within five minutes, I understood why people plan road trips around it. Imagine Disneyland if Disneyland sold beef jerky. Gas pumps as far as you can see. A giant sign out front telling you exactly what they pay their team — including the general manager. The wages are impressive. It has you second-guessing your career before you've even walked inside. Then you do walk inside. First stop: the bathrooms. Spacious. Spotless. Atten...

I went to an event a few weeks ago. One of the giveaways was this little crocheted duck. He came with a tiny sign that says, Waddle with purpose. Success is just around the pond. Cute. I threw him in my bag. When I got home, I set him on my desk. And that's where things got weird. Because of the angle of his face... ...he's looking up at me. Not straight ahead. Not at my computer. At me. Every morning, I sit down at my desk and there he is. Just... Looking. Waiting. Like, "Okay...what are we accomplishing today?" At first I thought it was funny. Now I catch myself looking back at him. Like I somehow owe him progress. I swear I'm trying to make the little duck proud. ps. If you want your own duck, you can order one on cheer-space.com

A funny thing happened after I reached my goal weight. I changed my mind. Back in 2021, I decided it was time to get serious about my health. Like so many people, I'd picked up the "Covid 15" (okay...more like the Covid 13 in my case), and I wasn't feeling like myself anymore. I started a health program, lost the weight, and eventually reached 121 pounds. At the time, I thought I'd made it. That was the number I'd been chasing. Mission accomplished. Or so I thought. What I discovered over the next few years surprised me. Being at my lowest weight wasn't the same as being at my healthiest weight. Or my happiest. To stay at 121 pounds, I had to think about food all the time. Every meal. Every dinner out. Every vacation. Every glass of wine. Every piece of birthday cake. And yes...every slice of Blueberry Boy Bait. That's not how I wanted to live. These days, I weigh about 135ish pounds. I'm still in a healthy BMI. I feel strong. I have energy. I slee...

I recently visited my parents in Phoenix to celebrate my dad’s birthday. He just turned 95. My mom is 88. So, as you can imagine, things are moving at a slightly different pace. We spent a few days having nice meals, visiting with their friends, and helping them get a little more organized. My sister and I were only there for four days, but we decided this would also double as a light decluttering initiative. That part did not go as planned. My parents moved into a retirement community about six years ago. They have a one-bedroom, one and a half bath apartment. It is actually perfect. Just enough space, easy to manage, everything they need. Except. As the years go on, the stuff continues to grow. More holiday décor. More books. More things. And now, a surprising amount of front door décor. Every resident takes their front door very seriously. It is how they show their personality. How they welcome friends. How they say, “This is me.” Without it, the hall would feel like a hall. With it...