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The Secret to Growing Up

As a kid, I loved having options.

Most mornings I would wake up, stand in front of my closet, and throw on whatever outfit spoke to me.

I’d head downstairs and my mom would ask “what would you like for breakfast this morning Heath Beath?”

Squirming my way up onto a stool, I’d pleasantly muse over a few of my favorites: Bagel with cream cheese…mini waffles with butter…cereal and milk.

Carb with dairy, carb with dairy, or…carb with dairy.

(Obviously my two preferred food groups, which I’ll be forever in the gym fighting against).

Not much rhyme or reason past “I feel like choosing this” went into my decision, but my day just seemed to start off best with a sense of freedom in my routine.

As it goes with most kids, a perceived abundance of choice made me quite happy, and a lack of it…well let’s just say hell hath no fury that compares. (Big Fisch would probably tell you I haven’t changed one bit in that regard.)

Back then, options felt like luxuries, probably because as a child there were far less of them. But if only we had known that all too soon we’d be flooded with more decisions then at times we felt like we could handle, perhaps we would have been a bit less eager to grow up and take on a whole lot more responsibility.…

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Boston Eats

Last week, my life long bestie left the warmth of Savannah and flew up for a visit.

Julie and I had two main objectives: talk a lot; eat a lot.

Those were also pretty much our favorite things to do when we were 6. Some things never change.

Boston has a lot to offer, even for a “small city”, and many incredible restaurants. So when I had the chance to venture out with Julie for a mini vacation, I tried to squeeze as much in as possible. Whether you’re local or just in the area visiting, here’s a few favorite spots we tried that I’d highly recommend:


I’m quickly learning that the restaurants around Little Italy in the North End do not disappoint.  We were on a quest for a good, buttery lobster roll and stumbled into Pauli’s when the wait at Neptune’s Oyster next door was too long. But man oh man were we glad we did. We ordered the hot lobster roll and the lobster grilled cheese. Both were good, but the lobster roll was to die for. Hot and buttery on fresh bread, it hit the spot. The grilled cheese was a bit heavy, but if you’re a fan of the traditional American kid sandwich, it’s a fun one to try.…

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When two isn’t as easy as one.

This is the view to the right of me while sitting at my desk.

My living space (and 50% of my house tour).

I thought about fluffing the pillows, straightening the objects on the coffee table, and moving the charger cord so that it looks closer to perfect. But it’s never actually perfect in here, so I left it as is with the addition of a nice filter that captures the natural sunlight coming in.

When I sat down to write and first looked around, it struck me that there is always this urge – if only for a second – to depict life, whether in words or photos, as neatly packaged.

Perhaps that is because we often wish life worked that way…presenting only positive events and opportunities to us, one after another. And if we can convince others, maybe we can convince ourselves.

But you know (without needing me to draw the conclusion) that life just doesn’t work that way.

So because of that fact, I like to keep it real here as I continue on sharing my life story.


After Big Fisch’s acceptance to Harvard in the spring, the next several months turned into some of the most stressful months for us yet, before packing up and officially saying goodbye to Delaware.…

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Observations of small-space, HBS living

We’re about two weeks into Harvard Business School life, and about one week into life at Harvard Business school.

Big Fisch and I moved into an apartment on campus for the convenient location to his classes and the glamour of feeling like college students again.

That last part was sarcastic, in case you missed it, but I do have to say that the short walk to the gym has been nice.

(Don’t make me work out before I work out, you feel me?)

So far, I’ve been most intrigued by the trash chute and the eerie halls that smell constantly like play-dough. Trash just seems to disappear magically down the small pipe with one simple push, and every time I walk down the hall I feel like I’m walking through the Sesame Street Alphaquest hallway, wondering what is behind the mystery doors.  You remember the song, right?

“I’ve got to ABC decide, where’s the door I haven’t tried?” Watch this if you don’t know what I’m talking about.

I just. want. to open. ALL OF THEM.

Not socially acceptable, however. So I refrain.

Needless to say, transitioning to a new way of life takes some time, and there’s inevitable kinks to work out along the way.…

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Wicked Ahwesome. Day 1 in Boston

It’s been less than 24 hours in Yankee town, and I think we’re doing alright at acclimating to “wicked ahwesome” city life.

I ate brunch in a pub at the bar next to a smoker puffing on his cigarette and ordered a cup of coffee in hopes that the server would repeat it back to me in a Bostonian accent.

“Would ya like cweam in ya cahffee?”

I would have fit in well here when I was 6 and couldn’t say my “Rs” properly.

Our temporary housing for the week is a small apartment above a tiny foot salon (is that even a thing?). Complete with a door buzzer, two flights of stairs, no central AC, and a Belgium waffle shop next door, it feels like the real deal.

But what do I know? I’m just a poser at this point.

Cambridge is beautiful. Old and historic, it leaves you in awe as you look around  and realize how many influential men and women have studied here…lived here. Presidents, leaders, world changers, Elle Woods. It’s incredible.

I think my IQ rises slightly each time I breathe in the air.

We feel really blessed to be here yet at the same time keep thinking what are we doing?

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