Winona Dimeo-Ediger
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Winona Dimeo-Ediger Articles
6. You would never DREAM of talking on your phone during a transaction, because you know from experience how uniquely dehumanizing and soul-crushing it is to try to engage with someone who is chatting idly with their sister and not making eye contact with you.
Read...1. Only eat salad and grilled chicken. Salad and grilled chicken, as a general rule, don’t ruin lives. Salad and grilled chicken are great... sometimes. Unless you’re going to amazing restaurants all the time and ordering nothing but salad and grilled chicken — then salad is definitely ruining your life.
Read...While flipping through a fashion magazine the other day, I was shocked at the revelation that “beachy hair at the beach” is now co
Read...You’re washing dishes or sorting laundry or grocery shopping, half-listening to a random Pandora station when it happens: Your favorite song from 7th grade starts playing.
Read...I’d been so busy patting myself on the back for conquering my big fears, I failed to acknowledge that the types of things that scare me had shifted. A lot of the obvious stuff didn’t bother me anymore — but what about all the smaller, more personal things that still scared the living shit out of me?
Read...I regularly call upon personal saints for help. Really specific ones whose sainthood only exists in my own mind, but they’re very effective. Today I’d like to introduce you to a few of them; feel free to call on them as often as needed.
Read...The hardest thing about transitioning to an in-office job after working from home for a long time? Not being able to tell your boss, “I’m gonna take a quick shower to clear my head” after a stressful team meeting.
Read...Me: Alright, hit me with some suggestions.
Holiday Gift Guide: Drum roll, please! How about… a tie?!?
Read...This woman has serious swagger. It’s a slightly more subtle swagger than, say, Snoop Lion, but it’s there: in the nonchalant flick of her wrist while tossing garlic cloves into a food processor; in her decision to throw a spontaneous formal garden party just because she made a frittata, and in her firm pronouncements to use only “good” ingredients — without ever defining what that means.
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