Winona Dimeo-Ediger
Bio
Winona Dimeo-Ediger Articles
Listen, we all have "bills" to pay and "jobs" to do and "families" to spend quality time with, but I'm going to tell you something right now and I
Read...5. No one person can meet all your needs. Expecting your partner to meet all your needs is a recipe for disaster. There is no one person on earth who can single handedly meet all your social, intellectual, sexual, physical, and emotional needs.
Read...For example, if you’re having gastrointenstinal distress, resist the urge to hashtag it with something generic like #diarrheacramps. Instead, include your first and last name and the date to make it your own: #LynnSmithDiarrheaCrampsFebruary2016.
Read...Half the fun (or maybe more than half? Maybe all the fun, actually) of going to the gym is getting decked out in cute workout clothes.
Read...Pinterest: “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.”
Me: Wait, so maybe I should carry an umbrella, in case it rains and I want to dance?
Toss back half a bottle of merlot while watching “Daredevil.” Pause it for a pee break. Glance in bathroom mirror, notice bangs are getting slightly unruly.
Read...If the weather has you cooped up with your partner, here's how to cope and bond instead of snap and split.
Read...Justin: I know you know that I made those mistakes maybe once or twice. Me: Once or twice? Really, Justin? Justin: And by once or twice I mean maybe a couple a hundred times. Me: Right. Now we’re on the same page.
Read...Have you guys tried those “adult” Lego sets? They’re not “adult” in, like, a “build your own dildo” way (although I’m sure that’s a thing on eBay) but in a “you follow instructions that are probably too advanced for your 3-year-old nephew to follow and feel super smart and accomplished when you put the final piece on the top of your small-scale replica of the Eiffel Tower” way.
Read..."These days, I don’t shop at the mall very often, but every once in a while when I find myself at a mall — any — I’m overcome by a wave of nostalgia for my salad days (although perhaps “Sbarro calzone days” would be a more fitting expression here). In many ways, I grew up in these chain stores and pretzel kiosks. And sometimes I feel compelled to write melodramatic poetry about it."
Read...
