Growing up, my parents used to force me to hang out with a girl. They felt bad for her because her life was pretty rough, and she was legitimately a caring and funny girl. So far, so good. Then the sleepovers started and holy crap did that change everything. She lived in a house that constantly smelled like feet, sweat and pee. Her mom didn't believe in seasoning food because it "hid the natural flavor." She had a brother who did a lot of staring and groaning, a dad who chewed his toenails, a serious bug problem, and she herself always stunk like vinegar because she couldn't smell her own funk and showers were "too boring" to bother with.

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Thankfully, most of my professional life has happened outside of the typical corporate world. That means I've only ever been to a single glorious office holiday party. It was a perfect storm of a party. The event had an open bar and was held at an interactive museum that was within walking distance of several popular bars and night clubs. The higher-ups thought it would be a great idea to ask partygoers to share images using a specific hashtag - they figured it would make the company seem hip to potential new recruits.

We made it four hours into the night before HR sent out an email asking us to please stop using the hashtag. The company had severely underestimated the sort of stuff drunk 20-somethings are willing to share on social media - and that screenshots are forever.

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About an hour and a half ago I finally felt like an adult. Sure, I'm 36 and I have a few kids and I'm married and in the middle of a divorce - I've even hosted a holiday dinner or two! But up until today I have always felt like a kid just sort of making things up as I go. Winging it was the battle plan and there was no safety net to be found. We don't have college funds, we don't have retirement plans, we don't have wills or anything like that. What I do have, though, is the ability to say my dad just called and asked to borrow 20 bucks so he wouldn't have to drive all the way back home and get his debit card.

And I totally had it to give him.

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Cooking a really great meal doesn't have to be complicated. Sure, binge-watching Chopped has us all convinced we need vaccuum sealers, ice cream machines and an anti-griddle, but some of the best recipes in the world are actually just a few really good ingredients put together simply. Like guacamole! Yeah, you can get fancy on it but a classic recipe really only calls for avocado, tomato, onion, salt and lime juice. It's so simple that it's almost impossible to screw it up.

Almost.

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I am an absolute out-and-proud Daddy's girl. My dad and I share the same ridiculous sense of humor. He was only 19 when I came along, so he has often been more of a friend than a true "dad." We have spent decades tormenting my poor mother with poorly sung renditions of Bon Jovi songs, and when things in life go sideways a hug from my Dad is everything I need to feel okay again. One of my favorite things about my dad is how absolutely stereotypically Dad-ish he has gotten now that he's older.

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I've never been a landlord, but I did run a property management company. Part of our job was to clean up and clear out properties after tenants had been evicted or abandoned the place. They say you can tell a lot about a person based on what they leave behind and how they live. Sometimes, though, you'd honestly rather not know.

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