Allow me to set the stage here. Paint you a picture so you can catch a glimpse of how big of a dork I am.
It’s a Wednesday evening. 6:30, and I’m in my little NYC kitchen, making a big, beautiful salad.
I was super jazzed because I had bought some ~fancy~ ingredients to really spoil myself: red cabbage, kalamata olives and sun-dried tomatoes.
I know. Frickin’ Gordon Ramsey over here.
And even though I’m a singer (I was the lead singer of a latin cover band as my first NYC gig, so there’s another great mental image for ya) – but even though I’m a singer, I never just belt out songs on the reg. I…
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