Choosing Figs | Neurotic as Hell | A Travel, Lifestyle, and Life List Blog

It fell behind the bed.

Josh on why it was OK for Will to bake him cookies:

“But he hasn’t had a date in nine months.”

Me on why it was not OK for Will to bake him cookies:

“So, that means he hasn’t done other things with a woman in 9 months, does that make it OK for him to do those with a man?”


Last night we went to the Ram bar and not the goat bar and I got a peach tea that’s one of those danger drinks and got an alien ice skater plate and ate bacon cheesey garlic sour cream chips that were yummy because Josh needs bacon.


Jack Bauer doesn’t seem like the type to go for all these women with no hair. That’s all I have.


Sometimes you go to Caribou to write and put at the top of the blank page a simple question: “Did he ever find that remote control?” And 183 unanswerable questions about your life later, you leave either more confused or more clarified than ever.

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Hi, I'm Val. I spent most of my 20s in a standstill, unable to pick which path in life I wanted to take. I wanted the nomadic life of a traveler but also wanted the husband, the condo, and the kitten. Unable to decide which life I wanted more, I did nothing. When I turned 30 I’d had enough of putting my life on hold and decided to start “choosing my figs.” So, I quit my job, bought a one-way ticket to Europe, and traveled for three years. Now I'm back in Chicago, decorating my apartment in all the teal, petting my cats, and planning my next adventure.

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