• I moved from Chicago to San Diego to be with my long-distance boyfriend, who's now my husband.
• Although my friends were jealous I was moving to a sunny "paradise," San Diego wasn't for me.
• I found the weather to be boring, and I didn't like how hard it was to get around without a car.

After living in Chicago for six years, I had a fulfilling career, great friends, and was involved in several organizations.

I would've happily stayed there forever, but my then-boyfriend (now husband) was in the Navy. We'd been in a long-distance relationship for seven years, and we wanted to be together.

In July 2023, I moved to where he was currently located: San Diego.

When I told my Midwest friends and colleagues about my move to California, some of their eyes would grow wide with envy.

Many of them — some who'd never been to San Diego — would tell me how lucky I was to move to a sunny "paradise" with so many beaches.

I would smile and nod, but I was actually very reluctant to move. Eventually, I learned firsthand why the sunny city wasn't the right home for me.

San Diego's sunny weather bored me

Although many of my Midwest friends envied the idea of year-round beach weather — especially during frigid winters — I wasn't a fan of it.

Having grown up in California, I actually took perverse delight in the adversity of Chicago's cold and snowy winters. I was amazed at how the city carried on, no matter the weather conditions.

I loved having white Christmases like in the movies I watched as a kid. I reveled in Chicago's changing seasons, dining outdoors in the spring and summer, bundling up in the winter, and watching the leaves change in the fall.

Meanwhile, San Diego's weather is almost always sunny and in the 60s. Eventually, I even removed the weather app from my phone's home screen because I felt there was no point in checking it anymore.

Although the sunshine was nice when I wanted to visit the beach or one of the area's great hiking trails, I grew bored by the lack of seasonal change and even missed the difficulties Midwestern winters can bring.

I missed needing to wear the sweaters my nana had knit to keep me warm in Chicago — and being able to comfortably visit the beach on Christmas just felt wrong to me.

I struggled to adjust to living in a car-centric city

Before moving, I'd visited my partner many times, so I knew just how car-centric San Diego is. However, I didn't have (or need) a car in Chicago and had no desire to purchase or own one.

Since San Diego is also a sunny beach town, I assumed cycling to get around would be popular, convenient, and easy enough. I soon discovered that was not the case.

Unfortunately, many of the city's neighborhoods and downtown areas didn't feel well connected for biking. I struggled to find bike lanes, and my map apps often directed me to cycle on roads that were basically highways.

Eventually, I began trying to run or walk to places instead, but that, too, proved challenging as I often encountered missing sidewalks or busy roads.

On the bright side, I was pleasantly surprised by San Diego's public transportation. To be fair, coming from Chicago — a big city with extensive bus and train options — I had very low expectations.

Although it was nice to be able to take public transit, it sometimes took me an hour or more and several connections to travel throughout San Diego.

Eventually, I accepted that San Diego and I just don't have compatible priorities when it comes to getting around. Living here reminded me how much I prefer walkable cities to car-centric ones.

Sometimes it was even hard to enjoy the beaches

Many of my Midwestern friends were jealous of just how many beautiful local beaches I'd have access to in San Diego.

Unfortunately, these beaches also drew in many tourists and visitors — and I didn't always know if I'd be able to fully enjoy them.

I moved to California just before the Fourth of July 2023, and I still remember my run around Mission Bay the day after the holiday weekend that brought me to tears.

Our nearby beaches were covered in abandoned pool floaties, broken camping chairs, and food bags that couldn't fit in overflowing trashcans. Rummaging seagulls further dispersed the garbage as I gagged on the stench of stale beer.

Hundreds of people had come into my new home, partied all night, left their trash, and now the beach had a serious hangover.

Unfortunately, this incident in 2023 wasn't the first (or last) time locals and volunteers were left to clean up messes partygoers left behind during holiday weekends.

It never got easier to watch my home being treated so poorly.

After a year in California, I was excited to leave

I lived in San Diego for almost exactly one year before we relocated to the Washington, DC, area.

I couldn't have been more excited about the prospect of living in a walkable city with changing seasons and ample public-transportation options once more.

Although I understand why many love San Diego, it just wasn't for me — and I've been happy spending my days in DC exploring museums instead of lounging on the beach.

• After 20 years of spills, kids, and pets, most of the carpeting in our house needed to be replaced.
• Even though we hired professionals, the process required a lot of time, effort, and planning.
• We learned to purge while packing and get creative with storage solutions.

My family has lived in the same house for 20 years. It was a new build when we first moved in, but now it's endured five children, one grandkid, and a puppy.

As you can imagine, the carpet in our home got pretty gross over time, and it was well past time for us to replace over half of it.

Based on what we learned throughout the long and grueling renovation process, it may be another 20 years before we do it again.

Here are a few things I wish I'd known in advance.

We had more stuff than I realized, which made the prep work difficult.

Pulling up carpet and padding that's been lived on for 20 years is messy.

That meant anything we didn't want potentially covered in dust and debris had to be moved out of the rooms. Since we were tackling all the bedrooms, that also included everything in the closets.

I never realized how much fits in a closet until I was moving it all to a temporary home. We barely had enough room to store our belongings in other parts of our home during the renovation, so we got creative.

My teen also learned the hard way that it's much easier to start getting rid of things during the packing process.

Instead, they ended up packing their stuff, unpacking it, then packing it back up for donation or storage.

Cars are great storage vessels.

My eight-seat Honda Pilot became a full-blown closet.

We stacked clothes from dressers in suitcases and laundry baskets, piled shoes in the footwells, and used the middle row of seats to keep everything on hangers.

Alternating the hanger hooks on the seatbelt meant everything stayed in place whenever we had to actually use the car.

We couldn't paint our walls right before our carpet installation.

Since our decades of accumulated stuff would have to be moved out anyway, we also decided it was a great time to paint our walls and some doors.

The professionals told us we'd need to do this at least a week before the carpet removal flung dust all over. That time would allow the paint to fully cure and prevent it from getting messed up.

We originally planned on doing the whole renovation in two weeks, so once we learned this, that timeline had to change. It ended up taking about seven.

We unknowingly chose the perfect time of year for an installation.

Our professional installation was scheduled for early September.

We live in the Midwest, so luckily, that meant it was warm enough to use the garage as a storage space. On install day, everyone was also able to be outdoors to get out of the way.

None of that would've been a comfortable option during a frigid Chicago winter. Without knowing it, we picked the perfect time for the renovation.

The installers may not be willing to move all your furniture.

It's worth looking up the specifics of your carpet-installation agreement before booking a service, especially if you have some large furniture pieces.

In larger rooms, our installers were able to move most of the furniture while they worked.

However, they weren't allowed to move our beds because of some specific contract rule. We ended up having to figure out how to move and store those ourselves before the installers arrived.

One of the best things I did was create a note detailing where I'd packed our stuff.

By the time everything was packed up, stuff was everywhere (including in my car).

The living room and primary bath were full of primary bedroom furniture and boxes. The kids' bathroom had beds and bookshelves. The garage and basement were full of boxes.

So, throughout the renovation, I kept a note on my phone called, "Where's my stuff?" that had sections for each room that detailed where the furniture and boxes from it were in the house.

This note became invaluable when we moved everything back in, ensuring we knew where it all went before unpacking.

It was one of the best things I did throughout the renovation.

Putting all of our stuff back felt like the most difficult part of getting new carpets.

Although my note came in handy for locating items, putting everything back in its place felt like moving into a new house.

Even though all the stuff came out of our space, it was a bit of a headache trying to figure out how to make everything fit again. It reminded me of when TSA searches your zipped-up suitcase, but afterward, it won't close.

Despite a lot of purging during packing, there somehow didn't feel like we had enough space for our stuff.

I wished we'd more closely read the fine print of our carpet warranty.

Since we have a dog, we invested in a pet warranty. About a month after installation, our dog had an upset tummy and stained the new carpet.

Unfortunately, this was when we learned the nitty-gritty details of the warranty — for example, it's only valid if the carpets are steam-cleaned every 18 months. We also can't use carpet spray to clean stains if we want to keep the warranty.

These annoying specifics were a great reminder to always read the fine print before signing something.

• My dad was raised in North Ireland, and since I was pregnant, I wanted my child to know his heritage.
• When my child was born, my grandmother was 90 years old.
• We couldn't afford the trip but took it anyway because I needed him to meet my family.

From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I had an urge in me to make sure that my child would know about his Irish identity.

I began to ask my father, who was born and raised in the North of Ireland, to repeat old stories he had shared with us as children around the dinner table. I was also born in Ireland, and when I was 3, we moved from Belfast to Boston. My accent quickly faded and the ties to my former homeland were strengthened by regular visits to see family and hearing all of their stories.

I remember sitting on the edge of my seat as he retold stories. Hearing about my father, his five siblings, his Irish father, and his Italian mother getting on with life during a time of war was instantly special.

I wanted my child to know his family.

We couldn't afford the trip

When my son came into the world, it was nearly time for my grandmother's 90th birthday. I immediately knew I wanted to get him over to Belfast as soon as it was safe. But, because of medical expenses from disabilities that I gained post-childbirth and the cost of raising a child, I knew we could not afford this trip.

I had recently given my notice to my full-time job. I continued the side gig of writing and editing I had started years ago and scrambled to try to make enough each month to make our savings dwindle at a slower pace. My husband was finishing grad school, which we paid for out of pocket, and worked an administrative job where he was underpaid for his busy days.

But in May, I saw the flights were going down in price, in time for a potential trip before prices went up again for the summer. I wanted my son to meet his great-grandmother and insisted we go. We received some money when my husband graduated, pulled the rest from savings, and bought the tickets.

It was the right decision

From the start, there were so many signs that we made the right choice. At the gate, my husband got the email that he was hired for his first job out of graduate school. Then, my 7-month-old had the flight of our dreams. He entered the plane smiling and laughing, charmed our seat neighbors, and promptly fell asleep for the rest of the flight. But the best part was staying with my grandmother for a week and a half.

Though he was in his stranger-danger phrase, the baby instantly gave my grandmother a smile and reached his arms out for her to hold him. She sang him songs in Italian, told us old stories of her childhood and my father's, and insisted he always be fed at the kitchen table while we all ate together as a family.

The smallest parts of the trip stayed with my son, who is now a toddler. She taught him how to do the grasping Italian wave and give forehead kisses, which she called playing "zucca." When he sees her on Facetime, he still immediately beams at the sound of her voice.

One day, as I walked him down the river path with my aunt and partner I felt the familiar glowing feeling that I was home, that I belonged here. Judging from my baby's eyes sparkling with joy as he watched his aunt talk, I could tell he felt it, too.

Later that year, we took out my 401(k). It was painful but necessary. But no matter how much hardship has occurred since we made the trip, all I can do is watch our finances for the next safest time to take the plunge and go back.

• Walmart issued a conservative outlook for the year ahead in its latest earnings report.
• However, the company shared three key numbers that highlight how the company is growing.
• The retail giant has transformed itself over the years amid competition from rivals like Amazon and Target.

If you think you know Walmart, think again.

While investors weren't too thrilled when Walmart reported a conservative outlook during its fourth-quarter earnings this week, the company shared three key numbers that underscore just how much the company has grown in recent years.

Here's how the retail giant is transforming itself to take on rivals like Amazon and Target.

$681 billion in annual sales

That's the total sales last year — more than any other company in the world, including Amazon.

Perhaps more interestingly, Walmart's full-year revenue has grown by more than $121 billion over the last four years and is greater than the $107.5 billion Target has made in revenue over the past year.

In other words, Walmart has effectively grown by more than one whole Target since the pandemic, which is no small feat, nor is it sitting still when it comes to finding new sources of revenue.

There are signs, however, that Walmart could lose its crown. Amazon, for the first time, notched a stronger fourth quarter revenue and is projected to take the lead in sales this year as it leans harder into AI and web services, CNBC reported.

30% of Walmart's online shoppers pay to not wait

The company said nearly a third of e-commerce shoppers pay a fee to get delivery within a one- or three-hour window on items like groceries and pharmacy prescriptions.

Last year, that number was zero, since it was only introduced in March.

Walmart's ability to achieve this ultrafast same-day service is driven largely by its fleet of more than 4,600 US stores, which are within a short drive of 93% of US households.

"If I could change anything about how we're perceived today, it would be that more people know about our breadth of assortment online and are increasing delivery speed," CEO Doug McMillon said on the earnings call Thursday.

4 million developer hours

Walmart said its AI-enabled coding assistants and completion tools saved developers approximately 4 million hours last year.

Again, that number was nearly zero a year ago.

It's just one among several ways the 63-year-old retailer is morphing into a formidable 21st-century technology company, with an expanding e-commerce marketplace, growing advertising business, and an increasingly automated supply chain.

"As we become more productive and reduce the amount of time we work on routine tasks that gives us time to develop tools that help us grow the business and move faster," McMillon said.

With Amazon nipping at its heels, the Walmart of 2025 is fast becoming much more than your grandad's Superstore.

• I joined a Facebook group in 2009 for fans of "The Wheel of Time" fantasy series.
• In the group, I met Tyla, a woman from South Africa with whom I had a lot in common.
• Over the years, we chatted online, learning we had a strange amount in common, so we married.

This January, I stared outside, and there was still a part of me that didn't quite understand that I was seeing lush green grass instead of snowdrifts up to my chest. If, a few years ago, you had told me that I would be married and living in a wholly different hemisphere from where I grew up, I wouldn't have believed you. I would have believed you even less if you told me that it happened almost entirely by chance.

It all started by reading a book series, "The Wheel of Time," a fantasy opus where remarkable coincidences follow the three main characters for the series' 14-book run. I was a massive fan, and back in 2009, I joined a Facebook fan group dedicated to the series. In the late 2000s, Facebook groups also had discussion forums, and that's where I first met Tayla.

At one point, we were the only two people keeping one of these discussion threads alive, so I figured, why not add her as a friend? It would certainly be easier than continuing to take up space on a public forum. I hadn't added anyone else from the group as a friend, but she seemed cool.

Surprisingly, she became so much more than an online friend.

Tyla and I learned we had a lot in common

She was South African, and I was Canadian, living worlds apart, with these books being the only thing we seemingly had in common.

But our first coincidence came shortly after we began talking online. We had both been recently dumped, both by our first respective relationships. OK, fair enough. We were both teenagers, so no biggie, right?

But then it started getting weird. At the time, I lived in Ottawa, the capital of Canada. Strangely enough, Tayla actually had some family living in Ottawa. Unbeknownst to me, when I was driving across town to get to work, half of her extended family was on the route.

Of all the places in the world where her family could move to, where South Africans are likely to end up, I figured Ottawa was very low on the list. I had never even met a South African before, and now I knew one whose uncle and grandmother were a five-minute drive away.

That's where the coincidences started, but they certainly didn't end there. For the next few years, we chatted most weekends, but one weekend in 2011, we both appeared on the other end of Skype with our cheeks puffy and our eyes lidded. Turns out, we had both had our wisdom teeth removed on the same day and hadn't mentioned it to the other.

Over our years of online friendship, the coincidences started piling up, so much so that we didn't even get surprised anymore. We figured out quite quickly that we had finally met our match for "Lord of the Rings" trivia. One time, our respective aunts both had surgeries within a week of each other. Another time, I discovered that her best friend, the one who convinced her to read "The Wheel of Time," was born on the same day as me.

Our mutual love of travel, musicals, and animals eventually all signaled something larger.

It felt like we belonged together

Admittedly, for someone who had read "The Wheel of Time" saga and knew the significance of coincidence in the series that started our friendship, it took me a long time to realize that these coincidences pointed to one thing: We were perfect for each other.

We might have been born 8,000 miles and a hemisphere apart, but fate was pointing us toward each other.

We got married in 2017 in South Africa, where we live now, and we quoted "The Wheel of Time" in our wedding ceremony.

But the odd twists of fate and synchronicities haven't stopped in the years we've now been together. A couple of years ago, we visited Scotland, realizing on the trip that both of our grandfathers had roots in Scottish towns just two hours from each other. One of those towns also happened to be the hometown of The Proclaimers, whose song, "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)," Tayla walked down the aisle to on our wedding day years before.

Every couple of years, I re-read "The Wheel of Time," and I'm again struck by the sheer luck of it all. The random chance that I would find my future wife through a series of totally unrelated coincidences never fails to stagger me when I think about it. A few coincidences led me to trust my instincts, leave Canada, move 8,000 miles away, and find the love of my life.

• TV companies are helping feed YouTube's growth in long-form viewing.
• Some are distributing full-length episodes and even making originals for the frenemy platform.
• Companies like the UK's Channel 4 and Fremantle are finding new audiences and revenue there.

Many TV companies have stopped trying to fight YouTube and are embracing its rise instead.

TV has become the top place people watch YouTube in the US, beating out mobile and desktop. And increasingly, Hollywood is providing shows for viewers to watch there.

"Long-form content is now crushing on YouTube," media industry analyst Evan Shapiro told Business Insider. "Mainstream media companies are leaning into it by programming YouTube with their existing libraries of long-form TV."

This content ranges from full-length episodes and movies to original shows made for the platform.

Companies in the reality TV and game show space have been particularly active.

British broadcaster ITV recently struck a deal with YouTube to post hundreds of hours of popular shows like "Love Island" and "I'm a Celebrity" on the platform.

The production company Fremantle, known for long-running and popular formats like "The Price is Right" and "Too Hot to Handle," has been expanding its YouTube presence over the past several years and now has 1,500 channels on YouTube and 32 billion views across YouTube and Facebook combined. Unscripted production giant Banijay has 75,000 hours of full-length shows such as "Big Brother" and "Master Chef" on YouTube. And in the past year, the UK's Channel 4 has increased its sharing of full-length episodes of lifestyle shows and documentaries on YouTube.

The moves by media companies have gone beyond lifestyle content.

Warner Bros. Discovery this month began putting "Last Week Tonight with John Oliver" episodes on YouTube the day after they air on HBO and Max. Previously, viewers had to wait four days to catch new episodes on YouTube. WBD has also been making older, full-length movies available on YouTube for a few years and recently moved them to its own channel from YouTube's hub of free movies and TV shows to improve their visibility.

In another sign of YouTube's undeniable reach, some companies are even starting to make original shows for the platform.

Paramount Global's Nickelodeon just made its first animated series for YouTube, "Kid Cowboy," and said there would be more to come.

Fremantle has decided to start making originals for YouTube as well. It has two original shows in production, including a comedy video podcast, "High in the Sky," where the hosts riff on conspiracy theories, and several more in the pipeline.

"About 18 months ago, we decided we needed to future-proof ourselves," said Brian Lovett, head of content strategy for Fremantle's original productions. "Cable, broadcast, streaming, are a huge part of our business, and we do that really well. But what else can we do?"

YouTube has become harder to ignore

As YouTube has cemented itself as a destination on TV screens, it's changed the conversation around the platform in Hollywood. YouTube isn't just seen as a place for short, user-generated clips anymore.

The streaming data analysis company Digital i found that videos lasting 30 minutes or more accounted for 73% of total viewing on the platform in the US in October 2024, up 8% from a year earlier.

YouTube isn't the only game in town when it comes to free streaming TV. Publishers are also distributing full-length movies and TV on other free video platforms like The Roku Channel and Fox's Tubi. Some have even experimented with TikTok, which now allows videos up to 60 minutes long. But industry insiders generally say YouTube is the biggest opportunity because companies can easily upload videos there, control their publishing strategy, and reach a vast audience.

YouTube's appeal varies somewhat from publisher to publisher.

Kids media companies like Nickelodeon recognize YouTube is increasingly the platform of choice for their core audiences.

In the case of "Last Week Tonight," a person familiar with the decision said the call to move up the YouTube drops was made to satisfy Oliver. They added that delaying the YouTube release hadn't helped the show's viewership on WBD's own channels anyway. This person asked for anonymity because they weren't publicly authorized to discuss the strategy; their identity is known to BI.

For companies like Fremantle and WBD, with huge catalogs of older shows and movies, YouTube can unearth pockets of viewers for even the most niche shows.

"These are 10-year-old shows that were hugely popular," Lovett said. "Being able to air them on a [free, on-demand streaming] channel gave them a whole new revenue stream. This is pretty much passive income."

YouTube can also help a show find an audience it missed on TV.

Channel 4 put "Huge Homes with Hugh Dennis," where the comedian takes viewers inside big houses, on YouTube after it flopped elsewhere. The audience went bonkers for it on YouTube, and then viewership on streaming ticked up.

YouTube can offer new ad revenue and viewers but can be tricky to navigate

Republishing full-length content successfully on YouTube isn't always quick or easy.

Shows are often tangled up in a knot of local and overseas rights, preventing producers from dropping them straight on YouTube. It also can take a while to figure out how to package up old shows so they land with viewers.

Channel 4 tested for months to hone its strategy. The company bleeped swear words to avoid YouTube's age restrictions and worked to nail titles, thumbnails, and keywords so the platform's algorithm would surface the videos. And it had to curate its vast amount of material for a YouTube audience. It figured out that "blue light" emergency services docs about police and ambulance rescues played well with viewers, for example.

In publishing to YouTube, media companies also have to reckon with the potential loss of licensing or audience revenue. That's why viewers tend to see older shows on YouTube that are of less value to other platforms.

"I would be surprised if any legacy media business was not nervous about this or had any existential crisis," said Matt Risley, managing director of 4Studio at Channel 4. "We discussed it at length."

Despite that, many media companies, including Channel 4, feel they're getting meaningful ad revenue from YouTube and reaching new audiences.

Risley said that, as a premium publisher, the broadcaster is allowed to sell its own ads on YouTube. He said Channel 4 makes up to five times the ad rate that it would get if YouTube sold the ads programmatically, and that publishing across YouTube and other social channels combined is now an eight-figure business for the company.

"This is a way to create a much longer tail for our content," said Matt Creasey, EVP of sales, acquisitions, and coproductions for Banijay Rights. "And advertisers are moving to YouTube as well."

Other companies take a different tack

Disney has made some of its shows available on YouTube, like "Bluey," which was the top pre-schooler channel on the platform in 2024, per Digital i.

But don't expect media giants like Disney or NBCUniversal, which have spent billions to build their own streaming services, to shovel huge swaths of their full-length catalogs on YouTube anytime soon.

And Netflix and Amazon, with deep pockets and big audiences, have taken a different approach to YouTube than some traditional TV rivals. These companies are now licensing or making shows with popular YouTubers for their own platforms.

That said, some media execs say they only see the interplay between YouTube and paid streaming services increasing as the industry matures.

"The audience and power of YouTube is undeniable," Lovett said.

After all, distributing content to different audiences has been a mainstay of media for years. Some Hollywood companies have recently got back into the licensing game in a big way as they hunt for cash, after hoarding their content to power their own streamers. Valuable shows like HBO's "Sex and the City" and Disney's "Grey's Anatomy" are back on Netflix, for example.

Could they one day make their way to YouTube?

• My parents travel around the world in an RV while I'm in New York City, so we're often far apart.
• Trader Joe's keeps us connected because my mom and I often recommend products to each other.
• As a Japanese family, we love to connect over Trader Joe's offerings.

Seeking adventure runs in my blood. My father met my mother after he asked his friend if he knew a girl who scuba dives and rides motorcycles. My parents have been diving and riding together for more than 30 years now.

This also meant that as soon as I left my childhood home in California, my parents sold it, bought an RV, and have been on the road. Every time I call them, I'm not sure where they are. Every Thanksgiving, I have to call them and figure out where they would be. One year, they were in Utah, another in Florida.

I, on the other hand, settled down in New York City, which means I'm often thousands of miles away from my parents.

Unexpectedly, Trader Joe's has been invaluable in keeping my Japanese family connected.

Trader Joe's: Our surprising family anchor

My mother and I love Trader Joe's. I remember tagging along as a kid, always asking to get a bucket of the alliterative masterpiece that is the "Crispy Crunchy Chocolate Chip Cookies."

Perhaps it's the familiar handwritten chalkboard signs or the clanging of the bells calling for employees across the store, but today, every time I step into a Trader Joe's, I feel like I'm shopping with my mother.

Every time I grab a pack of Japanese fried rice or the amazing Kimbap (I excitedly told my mom a few months ago over the phone that my local store increased the customer limit from two to four), I'm reminded that my mother recommended those items to me.

Whenever I look for a new apartment in New York, I keep a separate Google Maps tab open on my browser that shows all the Trader Joe's locations nearby. When I moved into a new apartment a few years ago, the first question my mother asked me was whether a Trader Joe's was close.

Whenever my mother and father arrive in a new town, I ask my mother whether there's a Trader Joe's. Last time, somewhere in Wyoming, she responded, "That's the thing, it's beautiful here but no Trader Joe's. But don't worry, I stocked up on the Japanese fried rice, and it's in the freezer, so we're good."

When I visit, I've even offered to bring with me what I can from my local Trader Joe's when they're somewhere without easy access to one.

We keep in touch by recommending Trader Joe's products to each other

My mother recently sent me a photo of the brand's Butternut Squash Soup, Thai Yellow Curry Sauce, and a can of coconut milk. She texted, "Apparently, if you mix these up and throw in some veggies and some meat, it's really good."

Our relationship with national news is also shaped by Trader Joe's, too. The bird flu is causing egg prices to hit a record high. At my nearest grocery store, a dozen eggs were $10, nearly a dollar per egg. Meanwhile, my mother sent me a photo the other day from Trader Joe's showing that they've implemented a limit of one egg product per customer while keeping the egg prices at a much more reasonable $3.49 per dozen. She said, "Trader Joe's is so admirable! Check out this price."

Additionally, when I travel 5,000 miles away to Japan, Trader Joe's still manages to bring our family together. I found out that their "Daily Facial Sunscreen" works really well on my skin, not leaving a white cast. I bought a few and brought them over to Japan to give to my grandma, who loves skincare.

My grandmother loved it so much she told my mother about it. My mother then sent me a message asking where I got the sunscreen, and she got excited when she learned I bought it from our favorite store.

I'm glad we have something to bond over when we're so far apart

I doubt that Trader Joe's designed its products or its shopping experience to foster a sense of connection between members of a Japanese family scattered around the US.

But that's exactly what they've done.

Now, please excuse me. My mother just messaged me about Trader Jo's sea salt from Portugal, which comes "in a really cute container." She says she loves how it looks on her countertop, and 3000 miles away, I'd love to find out whether it looks good on mine.

• The CEOs of Google DeepMind and Anthropic spoke about feeling the weight of responsibilities in a recent interview.
• The executives advocated for the creation of regulatory bodies to oversee AI projects.
• Both AI leaders agree that people should better grasp and prepare for the risks posed by advanced AI.

When asked if he ever worried about "ending up like Robert Oppenheimer," Google DeepMind's CEO Demis Hassabis said that he loses sleep over the idea.

"I worry about those kinds of scenarios all the time. That's why I don't sleep very much," Hassabis said in an interview alongside Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei with The Economist editor in chief Zanny Minton Beddoes.

"I mean, there's a huge amount of responsibility on the people — probably too much — on the people leading this technology," he added.

Hassabis and Amodei agreed that advanced AI could present destructive potential whenever it becomes viable.

"Almost every decision that I make feels like it's kind of balanced on the edge of a knife — like, you know, if we don't build fast enough, then the authoritarian countries could win," Amodei said. "If we build too fast, then the kinds of risks that Demis is talking about and that we've written about a lot, you know, could prevail."

"Either way, I'll feel that it was my fault that, you know, that we didn't make exactly the right decision," the Anthropic CEO added.

Hassabis said that while AI appears "overhyped" in the short term, he worries that the mid-to-long-term consequences remain underappreciated. He promotes a balanced perspective — to recognize the "incredible opportunities" afforded by AI, particularly in the realms of science and medicine, while becoming more keenly aware of the accompanying risks.

"The two big risks that I talk about are bad actors repurposing this general purpose technology for harmful ends — how do we enable the good actors and restrict access to the bad actors?" Hassabis said. "And then, secondly, is the risk from AGI, or agentic systems themselves, getting out of control, or not having the right values or the right goals. And both of those things are critical to get right, and I think the whole world needs to focus on that."

Both Amodei and Hassabis advocated for a governing body to regulate AI projects, with Hassabis pointing to the International Atomic Energy Agency as one potential model.

"Ideally it would be something like the UN, but given the geopolitical complexities, that doesn't seem very possible," Hassabis said. "So, you know, I worry about all the time, and we just try to do at least, on our side, everything we can in the vicinity and influence that we have."

Hassabis views international cooperation as vital.

"My hope is, you know, I've talked a lot in the past about a kind of a CERN for AGI type setup, where basically an international research collaboration on the last sort of few steps that we need to take towards building the first AGIs," Hassabis said.

Both leaders urged a better understanding of the sheer force for change they expect AI to be — and for societies to begin planning accordingly.

"We're on the eve of something that has great challenges, right? It's going to greatly upend the balance of power," Amodei said. "If someone dropped a new country into the world — 10 million people smarter than any human alive today — you know, you'd ask the question, 'What is their intent? What are they actually going to do in the world, particularly if they're able to act autonomously?'"

Anthropic and Google DeepMind did not immediately respond to requests for comment from Business Insider.

"I also agree with Demis that this idea of, you know, governance structures outside ourselves — I think these kinds of decisions are too big for any one person," Amodei said.

• I met Joyce four years ago, when she was 80 and I was 25.
• We've become incredibly close, and our age difference is a positive in our relationship.
• We love hearing each other's perspectives and giving each other advice.

I had always been close with both of my grandmothers, maternal and paternal. However, during my sophomore year of college, my paternal grandmother stopped knowing who I was. Alzheimer's had taken hold, and though she's still alive, I've had to grieve what our relationship used to be. Not too much time later, just after I graduated from college, my maternal grandmother died suddenly, leaving me reeling from a different kind of grief, one that arrived without warning.

In the midst of feeling untethered after graduating, I decided to move in with my grandfather. We were both navigating uncharted territory: he was adjusting to life without the partner he'd had since he was 19, and I was stepping into the uncertainty of postgrad life, searching for direction in a career I had yet to define.

It was during this time that I met Joyce, and we became fast friends. Daily phone calls, gossip about the men in our lives, and a shared love for food and cooking quickly bonded us. Every Saturday, we met for dinner at the same restaurant, at the same table, a ritual as comforting as it was consistent. On the surface, it seemed like any ordinary friendship. But Joyce wasn't just a friend; she was my grandmother's closest friend. When our relationship began, she was 80, and I was 25.

Our age gap is a positive in our friendship

I no longer had my grandmothers in my life the way I wished I did, but, in Joyce, I found the wisdom of someone who has lived decades longer than me. She's taught me to care less about what others think while simultaneously teaching me about traditional Southern culture and home decor, and because she used to work in the wedding stationery industry, she's given me a wealth of knowledge about paper goods and etiquette.

I love hearing about what's trending in her world, from table-setting Facebook groups to the brand Johnny Was; I already love dissecting the trends of my age group, but I find it much more fascinating to learn about hers. I'm also so interested to hear her thoughts on my generation.

She has never made me feel inferior due to my age. But she's also taught me lessons only someone married for 60 years could know the answers to. When I first started dating my now-fiancé, I thought I was in love, but how does one really know? Of course, there's the excitement and the rush, but what constitutes a soul mate?

One afternoon, I couldn't shake the question. I needed to know the answer and if he was really "the one." I called Joyce and asked her. After all, she had been married for decades; she ought to know.

"It feels like there's never enough time in the day when you're with them, even when you're together for 24 hours," she said, and from then on, that sentence has stuck with me.

When I moved in with my fiancé, she gave me a folder of her favorite recipes, printed, annotated, and filled with her personal notes on how to make them better. To this day, it remains one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever received.

We learn from each other

Intergenerational friendships have a way of teaching you about yourself. There's a unique kind of introspection that happens when you hear about someone else's upbringing, the experiences that shaped them, and how they've handled life's challenges. Joyce grew up in the South during the depths of segregation; she has a photo with Elvis Presley, her home ec classes fascinate me, and she married at 21. Her life, when she was my age, was drastically different, and yet, we've found this very special common ground in our connection.

One day, I asked Joyce if she thought I'd taught her anything. I wasn't expecting much, but instead, she immediately said, "Chloe. You're smart."

I laughed, assuming she was kidding, but she shook her head. "You've taught me a great deal about how to deal with people."

When I asked her what that meant, she mentioned me moving in with my grandfather. "You do things out of love for your family. People should be more like you, look around them, and see what's important. It's family."

Our friendship, unconventional as it may seem, has been one of the most impacting relationships. She's so much a part of my life that I've asked her to sign my ketubah at my wedding, a moment that will symbolize just how much she means to me.

Joyce has shown me that love and companionship don't have to fit neatly into boxes. Or be just between peers. Sometimes, they come in the form of an 84-year-old woman who gossips with you at dinner, who gifts you recipes to build a home, and who reminds you, with simple but profound words, that friendship can feel like family.

• I'm from the US but had dreamed of living in the UK since I was young.
• I finally got my chance when I was accepted to study at the University of Manchester.
• While I enjoyed the slower pace of life, I was disappointed to experience hostility toward Americans.

I can still remember the day when I was 8 and my mother and I were at an estate sale. We discovered a tattered wooden chest filled with photo albums documenting a 1950s trip throughout Britain.

The images of Windsor Castle and the Royal Guard in their scarlet tunics and bearskin hats captivated me. I knew I would live there someday.

Then, when I was in my early 30s, my father died. I was in an unfulfilling job, and that, compounded with my grief, led me to that magical place I'd been thinking about for decades.

In the end, though, it wasn't as magical as I had envisioned, and I moved back to the US.

I was charmed by UK life but it wasn't perfect

I prepared a thesis proposal to study social media influencers and sent it to the University of Manchester. Four months later, I was standing inside Manchester Airport with two pet carriers, two suitcases, and one new life ahead of me.

I was immediately charmed. The university had tiny tea rooms with kettles, a sink, and space to store cups, saucers, and sugar cubes.

I marveled at the slower pace of life and work-life balance. "Read, read, read. Walk. Exercise. Contemplate. Then, you will write," one of my two German supervisors told me.

To that end, the university encouraged travel. Many of us took extended weekends to trek through Scotland, Wales, down to London, and elsewhere abroad. Transportation was cheap, and vacation time was plenty.

Despite Friday stops at the local chippy and regularly "going for a curry," I lost more than 20 pounds and reversed my insulin resistance thanks to the UK's pedestrian-friendly lifestyle.

In the US, I was a car-dependent gym rat who spent more than three hours commuting between Annapolis, Maryland, and DC's East End daily. In Manchester, my commute was 2 miles of walking and a 30-minute train ride each way.

It wasn't uncommon for me to log more than 25,000 steps a day as I walked to and from train stations, grabbed groceries, and found nature trails to clear my mind between daunting periods of research and writing.

Nonetheless, the UK was not without its problems. I was shocked when, during dinner with new friends, one abruptly asked me, "What are you?"

Taken aback, I responded, "American."

He gestured in a circular motion across his face and said, "No, but I mean what are you?"

Shocked, I struggled to describe my diverse ancestry — Ojibwe, Cree, German, and Irish — that contributed to the kaleidoscope of my identity.

He joked about whether men in war bonnets "still lived" in teepees. I was deeply offended by the suggestion that Native American culture was primitive. The conversation fizzled.

I was dissapointed by the negativity toward Americans

Being an American exposed me to frequent criticism.

Some Europeans openly attacked the US, expecting my agreement. They labeled Americans as ignorant and unintelligent.

In an online expat group, Americans were advised to report hate crimes when threatened with violence in public spaces due to their accents. I never reported a crime, but other expats did.

Beyond that, I found the bureaucracy inefficient. Everything from public services to higher education involved an arduous paperwork process, yet nothing seemed to be done on time.

NHS limitations became clear during a drug shortage. Deemed low priority, my heart medication was cut off. Only after an ER GP saw my blood pressure spike to 190/128 mmHg (120/80 is considered average) was I given an emergency prescription.

When the pandemic hit, the university moved learning online. I grew weary of British bureaucracy and isolated research and was homesick, so I moved back to the US.

I prefer living in the US but still think about life in the UK

Reverse culture shock is a real phenomenon. Upon returning to the US, I found grocery stores overwhelming, questioning the need for 18 milk options.

People seemed impatient, outdoor walking was scarce, and I couldn't find a café in my rural hometown that served cappuccinos in porcelain mugs.

Years after returning, I appreciate my time in the UK. It showed me a different way of life. However, I prefer living in the States.

I appreciate the simplicity with which I navigate my daily life in the US, something that is easy to take for granted until you are Alice in a very different Wonderland.

I consider my access to medical care better here. I'm thankful for Americans' efficiency, from streamlining signing up for public utilities to the administrative requirements of working for a university.

Nonetheless, my mind often wanders back to the Cornish coast, Trafalgar Square, and gritty Manchester. "Home," it turns out, is many places.

• This post originally appeared in the BI Today newsletter.
• You can sign up for Business Insider's daily newsletter here.

Happy Saturday! Don't want to splurge on eggs? One sports dietician figured out how to make high-protein meals without the hen fruit.

On the agenda:

• She developed Alzheimer's in her 30s. Now, her mother is watching her memory slip away.
• A billionaire's Aspen estate is on the market for a whopping $125 million.
• Therapists share what people-pleaser clients talk about.
• How Hailee Steinfeld spends her 5 to 9 — from turning off her phone to learning to cook.

But first: NBA All-Snooze.

If this was forwarded to you, sign up here. Download Business Insider's app here.

This week's dispatch

What happened to All-Star Weekend?

The year was 2001, and I was inside what was then known as Washington, DC's MCI Center with my dad, a lifelong NBA fan. Kobe Bryant, Stephon Marbury, and Allen Iverson, who'd be named MVP of the big game, were on the court at the NBA All-Star Game.

The building was electric, and the game was good — but that was 15 years ago. Ask any NBA fan today, and they'll tell you that last week's All-Star Weekend in San Francisco was boring, confusing, and didn't have enough (checks notes) actual basketball.

I won't belabor the critiques. They're everywhere if you look online. So, instead, here's what the NBA should do if they insist on making us watch. NBA Commissioner Adam Silver, I hope you're reading.

• Hire Jesse Collins, who's produced halftime shows and who's known for injecting fun into our favorite awards shows. At least he'd be able to create memorable TV moments and a flow that doesn't feel like we're sitting in a dentist's office in between shots.
• Incentivize the players to actually participate during the big game (cough, LeBron) and give us at least a few minutes of competitive basketball.
• Put on a show using fresh talent. While we all love Kevin Hart and MrBeast, who were part of this year's line-up, they've become staples in our lives and, thus, predictable picks. Who's up next? Book them!

Good luck next year! I'll be watching either way.

Battling dementia in her 30s

As a teenager, Jaime Bortz helped care for her father, who had Alzheimer's at a young age. Now at 39 years old, her memories are slipping away, much like they did for her dad and two half-brothers. They inherited a rare gene mutation called PSEN1, making them part of the 1% of people with dementia who have early-onset familial Alzheimer's.

Jaime's mother, Bonnie Bortz, now cares for Jaime and her 9-year-old daughter. Even though cases like Jaime's have helped to usher in a new class of Alzheimer's drugs, researchers still have a ways to go in understanding the disease.

Hoping for a cure.

A billionaire's Colorado compound

Bill Koch recently relisted his 53-acre Colorado property for sale. The Aspen compound consists of eight structures, with the main lodge alone measuring 16,600 square feet. Amenities include hot tubs, a fitness center, and ponds.

The property's asking price is a casual $125 million. Koch originally purchased the property in 2007 for $26.5 million. If the compound is sold at Koch's asking price, it would break the record for the most expensive sale in Aspen.

Take a look inside.

Inside the mind of a people pleaser

Putting others' needs first, struggling to make decisions, stressing over how to "keep everyone happy" — that's just a day in the life of a people pleaser. While this behavior — often learned in childhood — may seem positive, it can also be destructive. People pleasers usually ignore or discount their emotional needs.

Therapists shared with BI how people-pleasing can complicate relationships and life choices — and how to cope.

Keeping your people-pleasing tendencies in check.

Hailee Steinfeld's 5 to 9

The "Pitch Perfect" star is working hard, but she's also mastering the art of leaving work at the door. In the latest installment of BI's "5 to 9" series, the actor shared some of her go-to ways to decompress: shutting off her phone, experimenting with new recipes, and working out.

Still, balance is key to Steinfeld. She also likes to watch Netflix's "Peaky Blinders," whip up Sunday morning pancakes, and spend time with loved ones. And she appreciates a good margarita.

Striking a balance between work and play.

What we're watching this weekend

• "American Murder: Gabby Petito": A new Netflix docuseries explores the 2021 death of a 22-year-old aspiring influencer who vanished while on a road trip with her fiancé.
• "Sonic the Hedgehog 3": The hit sequel, featuring Jim Carrey in dual roles, is now on Paramount+.
• "Reacher": Amazon Prime Video's popular action crime series, starring Alan Ritchson as a former US Army veteran turned vigilante, returns for its third season.

See the full list

Deals we love

• Travel bags: Taking a trip soon? Check out our guide to the best carry-on luggage to help ensure more seamless travel. We ran our picks through the gamut: packed airplanes, busy airports, bumpy walkways, and flights of stairs and escalators.
• Don't sweat it: A good matching sweatsuit is cute enough for running errands but comfy enough for lounging around the house. We wore and washed over 20 sets. These are 12 of the best sweatsuits we recommend for your wardrobe.
• Coffee that stays hot: Tired of your coffee cooling before you reach your destination? We tested 20 coffee thermoses to find the best one for bringing on your next commute.

More of this week's top reads:

• I tried a $59 gadget to cut my phone screen time. It helped me completely break my TikTok habit.
• How to be fit past 100 without going to the gym, according to 6 centenarians.
• Beyoncé turned down a movie role 5 times. The film's producer says it taught him how to bounce back from rejection.
• A woman had no idea what style engagement ring she wanted until she found a $12 piece at a Japanese antique store.
• Netflix's 'Apple Cider Vinegar' is based on a 'true-ish story.' Here's what's fact and what's fiction in the hit show.
• I toured one of the most expensive safari villas in Tanzania. From the pool overlooking the Serengeti to the private gym, it took luxury to levels I'd never seen.
• 3 tips for cooking the best fish at home from a Michelin-starred chef who specializes in seafood.
• Here's how National Park Service cuts could impact your summer vacation.
• I'm a pediatrician working in the middle of Texas's measles outbreak. Here's what I want parents to know.
• I gave up my career at 55 to move to a cabin in Finland with my best friend. I get why locals are so happy — now I am, too.
• 'Reacher' actor Alan Ritchson shares how he got so ripped: corned beef, cookies, and push-ups.
• We spent $260 dining at a 100-year-old steakhouse chain. Our meal at the Orlando location was worth every penny.

The BI Today team: Dan DeFrancesco, deputy editor and anchor, in New York City. Grace Lett, editor, in New York. Lisa Ryan, executive editor, in New York. Amanda Yen, associate editor, in New York. Elizabeth Casolo, fellow, in Chicago.

• Juliet Stebbings walks a marathon every weekend with her son Harry, a prominent VC in London.
• She said she has always been close with her two sons thanks to learning about their interests.
• Stebbings shares the lessons she's learned raising two successful children.

This as-told-to essay is based on a transcribed conversation with Juliet Stebbings, the mother of Harry Stebbings, a prominent VC based in London and Charlie Stebbings, the host of "Business of Sport" podcast. The following has been edited for length and clarity

When I found out I was pregnant with my oldest, Charlie, I gave up my full-time job to be a mother. It wasn't a moral decision. I just adored children and adored being a mother. It wasn't a difficult choice for me.

Now that Harry and Charlie are adults, Charlie with a family of his own, I still work to connect with both the boys. Harry is a founder and managing partner of 20VC, a successful venture capital firm, and Charlie hosts the podcast "Business of Sport."

We still have a family holiday on the Essex coast each year, and I often make Sunday roasts for everyone to come enjoy. I'll talk to them on the phone throughout the week.

In lockdown, Harry and I were in the same bubble and started walking together. I was diagnosed with MS in 2009. I'd always been fit, but the doctors told me I had to rest. I wasn't able to run anymore, but I could walk, and I did it often with Harry.

These walks continued past lockdown. Every Saturday, Harry and I walk around London. In 2024, we walked 34 marathons together. In 2025, we will walk 52 — one a week. The time commitment is great, but it's never been a question.

Having a close relationship with my sons that involves lots of communication has impacted their development. It has given them grounding, security, and confidence.

I've tried to make a habit of quality time with my kids from an early age

I had Charlie when I was 28 and Harry two and a half years later.

As a girly girl with two boys, I had two options: either get left out or join in. I learned football, rugby, and cricket. I took them to watch airplanes take off at Heathrow. I'd collect them from school, and we'd have dinner around the table most evenings. These were precious times to hear them download about their days.

Charlie went to boarding school at 13, followed by Harry. I started working three days a week, making sure I still had time to see them on weekends. It was difficult to let them go.

Being a big part of their lives and listening to what they had to say has always been a priority. Parents are busy, but I always had 10 minutes to sit down, go for a walk, or have a cup of coffee together — just to listen. I think it's had a positive effect on their development as adults.

I learn my children's interests so I can have useful conversations with them

Though the boys are very close, they have always been different. Harry has been finance-oriented since he was 14, while Charlie wanted to have a career in sports.

I've never tried to make them into something they aren't. Instead, I embraced who they were and supported them in doing what they wanted. I don't think I shaped their career paths, I just tried to build their confidence.

When they were kids, I tried to expose them to what they were interested in. Whatever they were interested in, I learned about, so I could discuss with them.

When they were doing English exams at school, I would read the books they were studying so I could talk about them in the car. When Charlie showed an interest in sports, I learned all about Ronaldo.

I do the same now — learning about banking systems so I can talk to Harry about it on a walk. Sometimes it sounds like he is speaking a different language it's so technical. But now I've learned more about venture capital, I can ask him better questions and give him a different perspective. I listen to cricket on the radio, so that I can talk to Charlie about it. It's fantastic and gives us much more to talk about.

They also make an effort to show interest in what I love. Harry knows so much about Chanel and fashion. It's my passion. I think it's really important that they learn to listen as well as be heard.

Giving my kids space meant they came back to me

Although our bond was and is close, I've never been a helicopter parent. I knew if I wanted them to come back, I had to let them go. Although I had boundaries as a parent, I also trusted my kids.

After Harry's first term studying law, he told me university wasn't working for him. He told me he'd be wasting three years if he stayed in school. Instead, he planned a self-funded trip to San Francisco at 19, knowing he had a few contacts in venture capital out there.

I told him I would help him get back to London if he needed me. Kids need to know that you're always their mum and that you're always there for them. Security is important for them.

I trusted him when he left university for San Francisco. This opportunity helped him fulfill his dreams of working in VC. The trip introduced him to another level of working. He came home adopting the mindset, "Be so good they can't ignore you."

I've tried to strike a balance between being protective and supportive as my kids grow. We've always been close, but our relationship has evolved with age.

No matter what my children did with their lives, they knew I would be proud of them if they were happy, doing what they wanted, and working their hardest.

• Food delivery workers relied on tips for a majority of their gross pay last year, per a new study.
• Tips were also a major source of income for grocery delivery workers, according to Gridwise.
• Gig workers have said that pay from services like DoorDash and Uber Eats often isn't enough.

The person who delivers your restaurant order might be relying on your tips to make rent.

Food delivery drivers made 53.4% of their total earnings from tips on average last year, a report from data analytics company Gridwise published on Tuesday found.

The pay that companies such as DoorDash and Uber Eats offer to deliver orders can be as low as $2 or $3, gig workers have told Business Insider. That means that many delivery workers look to customers to make the deliveries they make profitable, said Ryan Green, CEO of Gridwise.

"It's relying on the consumer," Green told BI.

According to the report, tips represented 45.7% of the earnings of workers who delivered groceries. Ride-hailing drivers earned just 10.4% of their money from tips.

We want to hear from you. Are you a gig worker? What are the biggest benefits or challenges of gig work that you'd be comfortable sharing with a reporter? Please fill out this quick form.

Gridwise's report looked at several aspects of gig work, including gig workers' pay on each of the major ride-hailing and delivery apps. The company analyzed 171 million trips and $1.9 billion worth of gig worker earnings to compile its findings for 2024.

Uber declined to comment on Gridwise's finding. A company spokesperson told BI that Uber offers a suggested tip on food orders — most commonly 15% — though customers decide the amount. It also encourages customers to tip more during inclement weather, such as snow storms.

An Instacart spokesperson called Gridwise's conclusion "inaccurate and misleading." Instacart asks customers if they want to increase their tips when they give a shopper a five-star rating. Since 2022, the company has also offered to pay shoppers up to $10 when a customer takes their tip away after delivery.

DoorDash did not respond to a request for comment on the findings from BI.

Tips have long been a big focus for gig workers. Some have told BI that they decide which orders to take depending on how much the tip is. But that can be risky: Some drivers for Walmart's Spark delivery service said last year that customers sometimes take back their tips after their order arrives — a tactic that the workers call "tip baiting."

Other apps, including Instacart and DoorDash, have countered that practice by shortening the time that customers have to adjust their tip amount.

In late 2023, DoorDash started telling some customers that their orders might take longer to arrive if they didn't tip. A company spokesperson told BI at the time that DoorDash's gig workers can choose which orders they take.

Do you work for Uber, Lyft, DoorDash, Instacart, or another company as a gig worker and have a story idea to share? Reach out to this reporter via encrypted messaging app Signal at 808-854-4501.

When Jaime Bortz was a teenager, she'd gently take hold of her dad's hand while they walked through the mall in Buffalo, New York. She'd guide him along to prevent him from getting lost, as if he were the child, she the parent.

Then her dad, Steve Bortz, went to live in a nursing home. Jaime, a high schooler at the time, was embarrassed to tell her friends where her dad lived. She knew she never wanted to end up in a place like that.

But time is making it harder for Jaime to live at home. She's 39 now. As the clock ticks on, the gaps in her brain widen, and she becomes more confused. Memories are rapidly slipping away, much as they did for her dad. She forgets how to dress herself, can't speak in full sentences, and cries a lot, perhaps because she's still aware enough to be frustrated by what's happening.

Jaime's half-brother Todd went through this decline a decade ago. A father to three young kids at the time, he started forgetting how to drive his own bus route, often getting lost with passengers on board. In a matter of a few years, memories of who he married, what he liked to eat, and even his own shy nature were erased. He died of sepsis at 43. A year later, Todd's brother, Aaron, died at 40, with many of the same memory issues.

Jaime, Todd, and Aaron all inherited a rare PSEN1 gene mutation from their father that guaranteed they'd develop Alzheimer's at a young age. They are members of an unlucky tribe, the 1% of people with dementia who have early-onset familial Alzheimer's.

"Even with the family history, no one believed that someone her age would have it," Bonnie Bortz, Jaime's mother and Steve's widow, told me when I visited her at home in Buffalo last year. By "no one" she meant friends, family, even some doctors.

Bonnie has been a default caretaker at every turn. As a young mom, she handled Steve's decline. Years later, she helped Todd's wife, Michelle, go through it. Now 64, she's the anchor of a bustling household, caring for Jaime and her 9-year-old daughter.

"I am feeling desperate," Bonnie said. "I try to stay optimistic and positive, and I just kind of put on a harder exterior — I have to do what I got to do to get everybody through."

Bonnie is foreshadowing the burden many families will soon experience. An article published in Nature Medicine in January suggests America is set to weather a cascade of dementia cases, a doubling of Alzheimer's patients by 2060. It predicts that by then, the country will gain 1 million new dementia patients each year.

Families like the Bortzes are rare and warrant attention. There are just 45,000 cases like theirs worldwide. This small circle of people can offer researchers a glimpse into how Alzheimer's develops. Because they develop the first signs at early ages, researchers can separate the disease itself from other issues common among older people, like heart disease or type 2 diabetes. Early-onset cases have helped usher in a new class of Alzheimer's drugs, which have started to become available in recent years. While these antibody treatments don't cure the disease, they can slow its progression, buying families a little more time.

Still, there is much to learn. Researchers don't understand what causes the disease. Ultimately, there probably isn't just one kind of Alzheimer's that can be fixed by one single prescription. Families like the Bortzes show how far researchers still have to go in understanding dementia and developing treatments.

"It's like cancer," Fred "Rusty" Gage, who researches dementia and neurodegenerative diseases at the Salk Institute, told Business Insider. "This is not a single disease. There are different forms of it, and they're not just genetic forms versus nongenetic."

A 50/50 shot at dementia in your 30s

Bonnie knew something was wrong when Jaime moved back home in her early 30s. She kept forgetting her keys and phone and repeated herself a lot.

"The repeating of stories — that was definitely something my husband did," Bonnie said. "And it was subtle, little things." Jaime lost the insurance job she'd had for over a decade. Finally, around the time of Jaime's 36th birthday, they agreed it was time to get Jaime tested.

The type of dementia that runs in the Bortz family is genetically preordained. Someone who inherits a genetic mutation from one of their parents will almost certainly develop dementia, progressively forgetting what they've learned over a lifetime. It generally starts with short-term memories, then expands to erase aspects of who they are and how they function. People with this early-onset genetic form of the disease suffer a much earlier and faster descent than people with "regular," meaning sporadic, Alzheimer's.

Gage says that to categorically separate nongenetic forms of Alzheimer's from the forms that families like the Bortzes have is naive. Each person's genetics shape their case. For example, roughly 60% of people who carry two copies of the APOE4 gene will develop Alzheimer's during their lifetime. (The actor Chris Hemsworth, who carries a copy of the gene from each of his parents, has been open about his "4-4" status.) Other folks, through some kind of genetic luck, can carry the same genes, and may even develop the amyloid plaques or tau tangles characteristic of Alzheimer's and yet never show signs of dementia. Of Steve's four children, only one did not develop his rare form of early dementia.

"There's dozens of genes that have been found to be associated with Alzheimer's disease," Gage said. Few of them single-handedly control a person's cognitive destiny. If most dementia diagnoses are colored in shades of gray, the Bortzes' cases are harshly black and white.

In 2023, as life at the Bortzes' house was getting more difficult, new Alzheimer's drugs were starting to become available. The blockbuster was Leqembi, a Japanese drug brought to market in the US, designed to clear out the clumps of protein, or amyloid plaques, that form between brain cells in people with dementia.

New drugs haven't been found to halt or prevent the disease, but data from one of Leqembi's clinical trials suggested it could slow progression down by about 27%. In practical terms, that means people might gain an extra four or five months of independence — of driving, perhaps, or cooking, shopping, dressing themselves, and remembering their families.

"The pessimist would look at the data as it stands and say: 'Well, we tried that. It obviously doesn't work very well, so maybe we should start looking at something else,'" Gage said.

Jaime was on early Medicare for her disability. Legally she was still allowed to drive, but her mom took her keys away after she failed a driving evaluation funded by the Alzheimer's Association. It was getting harder to remember daily minutia, like the fact that her daughter likes peanut butter toast now, or how to put a paper filter into a coffee maker.

Still, Bonnie decided not to put Jaime on antibody drugs. She knew that they presented a small risk of brain bleeds and that Jaime, because she's a woman and because of her genetics, would be at a higher risk of developing them.

"I don't want to cause more problems," Bonnie said. In 2023, Jaime was developing some muscle jerks, prompted by one of the other medications she was on. "I've never seen these medications help her in any way," Bonnie said. "Not with memory, not with anything."

After years of focusing on drugs that target amyloid plaques, scientists are starting to try new tactics. More than 100 new Alzheimer's drugs are in later-stage clinical trials. If those trials are successful, the drugs could become available to patients in the next couple of years. They include therapies designed to target neuronal tau tangles, which pulverize and kill brain cells from the inside, and others that go after the inflammation tied to Alzheimer's. Increasingly, doctors are wondering whether the anti-inflammatory effects of GLP-1 drugs such as Ozempic and Mounjaro may prove effective against dementia.

"I would hope that we'd get to a good point where we look at where you are in the disease and we can fine-tune a cocktail," said Lindsay Hohsfield, an Alzheimer's researcher and associate professor at the University of California, Irvine, who cofounded a nonprofit called Youngtimers to support families like the Bortzes.

Can you build a brain back?

Jaime's condition has progressed dramatically over the past year. When I visited her at home in snowy Buffalo in early 2024, it was harder to tell something was amiss. She could carry on a simple conversation, exchanging pleasantries with a new houseguest — but if you spent more than a few minutes with her, you might notice her start to repeat questions ("Where do you live again?") or variations of them. Sometimes, she'd nod and quickly backtrack, insisting she already knew.

Reminiscing about old memories, like her favorite '90s TV shows or her pink prom dress, was much easier than recalling newly acquired information.

I asked how her speech therapy was going, and she turned to her mom blankly. I can't know what was going on in her mind, but it seemed like she was scanning our faces for hints about how to answer and where the conversation should go next. Bonnie sensed the difference in her daughter, in the way a mother can.

Later, sitting with me in the privacy of her SUV, Bonnie pointed out Jaime's repetition. That, she told me, is what it's like everyday.

Bonnie's been there through it all, managing the appointments, fighting to get Medicare payments, and evaluating which drugs and treatments to put her daughter on and which to skip. Driving often gives her some of her few solo moments of the day. She relishes going to work, rare time by herself. Recently she hired Michelle, Todd's wife, as an aide — a familiar face who can come help take care of Jaime for about 10 hours a week.

Bonnie tries to keep thoughts of the future to a minimum. Jaime's asked her, many times, not to put her in a nursing home.

"I pray to God it doesn't get to that point, because I would hate to do that to my daughter," she said. "With that being said, I am older. I don't know. I just, I don't know."

Bonnie doesn't know how Jaime's condition will develop and what kind of support she'll require. Jaime has told Bonnie that her biggest fears are the nursing home and death.

"The difficult thing about Alzheimer's, all brain diseases, if you truly wanted to reverse, you would also not only have to clear out disease, you'd actually have to build the brain back," said Dr. Nathaniel Chin, the medical director at the Wisconsin Alzheimer's Disease Research Center. "This is not an infection where if you identify it, you kill it, you go back to being yourself. I mean, the disease has destroyed parts of your brain."

Hoping for a cure

Bonnie understands there's not much you can do to stop this disease. That doesn't stop her from being a mom — from trying to do something, anything, to help her daughter.

A man sometimes comes to her house for 10-minute sessions of cold laser therapy, designed to nourish and energize Jaime's cells.

"They're not working," Bonnie tells me, laughing out loud, probably realizing how ridiculous it sounds. Still, there's a quiet optimism. "Part of me is like, well, maybe we should keep trying, you know? As a mom."

Recently Bonnie joined an online support group for families with early-onset familial Alzheimer's. There she got sucked into another tantalizing promise that a product could somehow help Jaime. She ended up sending about $600 to a man offering specialty herbal supplements before she realized he'd never send her any medicine.

"You get yourself suckered in because you want to believe that there's something out there," Bonnie said. She's also ordered expensive memory supplements advertised on TV.

In a moment of desperation, while Todd was in decline in the early 2010s, Michelle sent a letter to Dr. Phil, begging for his help. Maybe this wasn't really Alzheimer's, she wrote. Maybe, hopefully, it was some other rare, undiagnosed condition that could be cured once it could be properly identified. "It sounds stupid, but I see that he does all these different testings," she said. Deep down, she knew she wouldn't hear back, and knew he wouldn't be able to help. Still, she's contacted Dr. Phil a few times since then, including once recently, worrying about what's in store for the next generation of the family.

The throughline is a flicker of hope. Isn't there something that can help?

Before Jaime's diagnosis, Bonnie was considering moving out of the house where she'd raised her kids and into a smaller home, enjoying a new empty nest. Now her old nest is full of boisterous daily activity again.

Jaime is the last of her generation going through this rapid, fatal decline, but her young daughter is sometimes angry and embarrassed about her mom's condition. She lashes out — a kid grappling with losing pieces of her mother, one day at a time.

Michelle's 20-year-old daughter, Emma, wonders whether she should get tested before deciding whether she wants to have her own children. New genetic tests, in conjunction with IVF, are allowing some people with familial Alzheimer's to choose embryos to implant that don't carry the genetic mutation.

"I want to know, but then I don't want to know — I don't want to be worried about it all the time," Emma said. "It just should be taken out of the gene pool, probably. I don't want to do that to my kids."

• I visited Utah's Silicon Slopes in January 2025. I toured tech offices and chatted with locals.
• One office has cool features, including a gym, pickleball court, and mountain bike rentals.
• Employees also rave about the dining options that they can order using an app.

If you're even remotely involved in the tech world, you've probably heard the buzzy term "Silicon Slopes." It refers to a stretch of land in Utah's Wasatch Front region that's grown into a hub for the tech industry.

When I visited the area in January, I realized it wasn't always this way. After touring modern tech offices and speaking with longtime locals, I learned exactly how this once-rural area became the Silicon Slopes.

I also saw firsthand why it's top-rated for its work environment. One of the offices I toured came with really cool perks, such as being able to rent a mountain bike to use on the campus' nearby trails.

The Silicon Slopes is a place where techies collaborate in modern, glass offices with a mountain backdrop.

The roughly 50-mile area, including Salt Lake City, Park City, Draper, Provo, and Lehi, among other towns, is home to over 1,000 tech companies.

Longtime Utah residents say they remember a very different Wasatch Front.

Saul Andrade, BambooHR's senior events manager, told Business Insider he's lived in Utah for about 30 years and has spent the past decade living in the Silicon Slopes. Driving to Salt Lake City as a kid, he said the area was mostly farmland before the boom.

"Nowadays, when my wife and I drive by, we look over, and we just cannot believe how much it's grown," Andrade said. "There was a time when we got pumpkins at this farm. There's no farm now — not even a trace of the farm. It's all living accommodations and complexes."

Mark Overdevest, a Sotheby's real-estate agent, moved to the Wasatch Front in 2004 when "property values were very low."

"It seemed like a great place to invest," he told BI. "And to have access to such great skiing, I just felt like it was too good to be true."

Over the years, he's seen many modern luxury homes with glass and steel architectural designs pop up in Salt Lake City as residents have moved in from California, Texas, and Illinois.

Hosting the 2002 Olympics pushed Salt Lake City infrastructure forward, putting the Wasatch Front on everyone's radar.

When Michelle Ercanbrack, a lifelong Utah resident who has spent her entire career working in tech, found out that Salt Lake City would be hosting the 2002 Olympics, she remembers her grandma saying, "The secret's out," in reference to Utah's beautiful landscapes and world-class skiing getting global attention.

The tech boom started with a startup acquisition in 2009.

In 2009, Adobe purchased the Utah tech startup Omniture for $1.8 billion and built a campus in Lehi, which opened three years later.

Ercanbrack said that a company as well-known as Adobe was a big deal for Utah.

"The Omniture acquisition was the tipping point in my mind for when the tech space, the innovation space, and overall the economy of Utah began to shift," she told BI. "That showed an investment in our state and in the potential innovation of the people that lived here."

To Ercanbrack, the Adobe campus is "the heart of the Silicon Slopes." She added, "Everything is congregated or radiated around it."

Other big companies followed.

Utah drew tech giants with its tax incentives for businesses. In 2020, the state loosened its licensing regulations, making it one of the easiest states to launch a new business in.

Companies including Google, PayPal, Overstock.com, and Goldman Sachs, among others, now have a footprint in the Silicon Slopes.

A decade after Adobe's acquisition, the pandemic drove up wealth and population.

The pandemic furthered Utah's growth as more Silicon Valley tech companies moved to the state.

"Remote work opened up a lot of opportunities for people to move around, but also, the pandemic was when a lot of economies were struggling, and Utah's economy remained exceptionally resilient," Ercanbrack said. "So people were willing to relocate for jobs."

Overdevest said the wealthy have gotten wealthier since then.

"Their wealth has just ballooned with the pandemic," he said, adding that many of his clients in Salt Lake City are young techies and entrepreneurs.

During my recent trip to the Silicon Slopes, I got an inside look at what the tech scene is like today.

In 2024, WalletHub ranked Utah's work environment the best in the country.

After touring a modern tech office building in Draper, which sits between Salt Lake City and Lehi, it was easy to see why.

"I think Draper is such a growing location because it's right between those two major business hubs," Ercanbrack said. "It connects Lehi to what's happening in Salt Lake."

The building is owned by the online education company Pluralsight.

In 2020, Pluralsight built the corporate campus, which houses several other tech companies.

The human resources software company BambooHR is also headquartered in the building.

Pluralsight rents out a portion of the building to BambooHR. I toured offices for both companies, which offer hybrid work environments for their employees.

Most of the building's first floor is a communal space. One side is filled with dining and refreshments.

From a coffee shop and soda fountains to premade meals and restaurants with cooked-to-order food, there was no shortage of breakfast and lunch options for employees.

Employees can order on an app or use one of the smart tablets set up in the café area.

The other side is a coworking space filled with long tables, cozy nooks, and plenty of natural light.

"The common area is a great place to mingle with some of your coworkers that you may not see because they work on a different floor or people from the other companies," Andrade said. "I get to network and create new connections."

Pluralsight product marketer Austin Bagley agreed.

"It's fun to be in a place where it's vibrant, it's bright, and I can talk to people," Bagley said.

There's also a communal gym, a pickleball court, and rentable mountain bikes for employees to use on the trails just outside the building.

All the employees I spoke with described Utah as an active place and said they feel like their campus reflects and supports that lifestyle.

Bagley said that he bought a bike after joining Pluralsight to ride the nearby trails with other employees in the summers.

Both offices had open-concept floor plans.

Bagley has been at Pluralsight for six years and said the new office has a different feel than their old one.

"The first office was similar but a lot smaller," Bagley said. "It felt like every day, you'd walk in, and there'd be less space from desks and things getting crammed in."

Bagely said in this new building, he gets to enjoy the open-concept floor plan.

"It makes it a little bit more of a community versus just hanging out in the office all day by yourself," he said, adding that he likes having the option of moving from his desk to comfy couches around the office.

Both offices also have single and group-sized meeting rooms.

Employees book blocks of time for the rooms. At Pluralsight, room availability varies, Bagley said.

"I have a number of colleagues here, but I also have people on my team in Florida and Pennsylvania, and so a lot of the work we do is still remote," he said. "This office will go from being fairly quiet to then having weeks where you can't find any meeting room because we have a lot of people who travel and spend time here on-site."

Employees at each office had fun, unique ways to take breaks.

From pool and shuffleboard to arcade games and ping-pong tables, there was plenty to take a break within these two offices.

BambooHR was especially impressive with its golf simulator.

"Sometimes you see amenities in an office, and they just sit there like show and tell," Bagley said. "I'm impressed that people here actually use it."

Employees at both companies seem motivated to collaborate in person

"The first thing that strikes me about Pluralsight is how collaborative it is," Bagley said.

At most jobs, Bagley said he's talked to co-workers across two to three different functions within the company. At Pluralsight, he said he communicates between 15 to 20.

"You get to connect to a lot of different people and understand a lot of different contexts that move the work forward," he said, adding that an additional perk is "you end up becoming friends with a lot more people."

Andrade, who goes in most days of the workweek, said he, too, appreciates the workplace environment at BambooHR.

"The flexibility where you can work remote and then come into the office and be able to build those relationships with some of your coworkers doesn't compare to working remotely full-time," he said. "And doing it in a beautiful building in a centralized location makes it even better."

Growth has come with some challenges, but locals predict that the Silicon Slopes will continue flourishing.

Ercanbrack and Overdevest both think the Silicon Slopes will continue to grow.

"Just driving along the interstate, you'll see the amount of building that's happening — and a lot of it is housing," Ercanbrack said. "The amount of apartments and condos has been significant, and it's been needed because, like everywhere else, there's an entire generation of millennials that need a place to live."

Ercanbrack remains hopeful that although growth has caused housing costs to skyrocket — in 2022, ABC4 Utah reported that housing was 200% more expensive than in 2000 — Utah will still be a great place to live and work.

"I just have this sense that communities are like plants — they're either growing or dying," she said. "And I'm grateful to live in a place that is experiencing such growth."

• The US Space Force needs a "warfighting ethos" to compete with China in space, a new report has said.
• Failure to adapt could threaten the force's long-term chances of success in the space domain, it said.
• The Space Force also lacks a clearly defined role and resources, the authors said.

The US Space Force needs a change in mindset and increased funding to compete with China in the space domain, two retired US colonels argued in a new report for the Mitchell Institute for Aerospace Studies.

The report, which was released earlier this week, summarizes the findings and recommendations from a two-day workshop held in October at the Mitchell Institute's Spacepower Advantage Center of Excellence.

The event brought together 55 space experts to examine the Space Force Chief of Space Operations' theory of success — called "Competitive Endurance" — against a set of potential crises over the next 25 years, including the Russian deployment of a nuclear antisatellite weapon and an attempted Chinese space blockade.

The workshop found that the role of the Space Force was not well understood by many Americans and that it lacked resources and a "warfighting ethos," which the authors of the new report said threatened its long-term chances of success against China in the space domain.

"Systemic issues exist within the Space Force and Department of Defense that threaten the success of the Space Force in a long-term competition with China," Charles Galbreath, a retired US Space Force colonel, and Jennifer Reeves, a retired US Air Force colonel, wrote.

"Chief among these are: inadequate authorities and resources, a lack of clearly defined and understood roles and missions, and the need for increased warfighting ethos."

Drawing on the workshop's findings, the authors, both senior fellows at the Mitchell Institute, called on Congress to increase funding to the USSF and loosen policy restrictions to allow the deployment of offensive and defensive weapons, which they said would enable the force to "create a stronger posture, capable of deterring hostile actions and conflict."

They also urged the force to develop educational and training programs that aimed to "foster an assertive, warfighting culture," adding that Space Force members — known as Guardians — "must see themselves as warfighters and project a war-winning ethos."

While Galbreath and Reeves praised the "three tenets of Competitive Endurance" — avoiding operational surprise, denying first-mover advantage, and undertaking responsible counter-space campaigning — they said the theory did not "normalize space as a warfighting domain" or allow Guardians to "pursue victory and space superiority," which they said made it difficult for the public and Congress to grasp its military importance.

"If this loophole is not addressed, the Space Force and U.S. Space Command could find itself in a death spiral of waning support and funding, ultimately precluding the fielding of capabilities and conducting of operations necessary to secure U.S. interests in space," they added.

A Space Force spokesperson told Business Insider that "as China and Russia accelerate the development of counter-space capabilities, the need for a well-resourced Space Force has never been more critical."

"Our Guardians remain committed to ensuring space superiority while safeguarding the long-term stability and sustainability of the domain," they said.

Maj. Gen. Timothy Sejba, commander of Space Training and Readiness Command (STARCOM), said in 2023 that a warfighting mindset was vital to the USSF's work.

Speaking to attendees at the Air & Space Forces Association's 2023 Air, Space & Cyber Conference, Sejba, then Brigadier General, said that STARCOM's mission was to instill the warfighting mindset in every Space Force recruit.

"Even though the Space Force is only four years old, we've built the warfighting mindset for almost 40 years," he said, adding that he thought it was "critical" for the force to train "like we potentially have to fight in the future."

"I think that exists in other domains and other services, but it's one that we just haven't necessarily had to put into place for space in the past," he added.

Officials have long warned of growing international threats facing the US in the space domain.

In an interview with Politico in October, Gen. B. Chance Saltzman, the Chief of Space Operations, said China was developing counter-space capabilities at a "mind-boggling" pace and was of particular concern for the US.

John Plumb, a former assistant secretary of defense for space policy, also warned in 2023 of the increasing quantity and quality of global counter-space threats.

Plumb pointed to China fielding ground-based counter-space weapons and Russia developing its own systems designed at "degrading and denying US space-based services."

"Our competitors have watched us, they have learned from us, they've stolen from us, and they have developed capabilities to hold us at risk. But they are not ready for us. They're not ready for us today," he said.

• Kevin Hart accumulated a lot of debt after opening his own insurance branch.
• He got out of the red by flipping homes and now does real estate full-time.
• Hart recommends new investors get started with a flip, but cautions against costly mistakes.

Kevin Hart found himself in the red when, after working as a sales rep for State Farm for a few years, he opened his own branch in 2017.

"I was dead broke and at a failing insurance business," the Louisville native told Business Insider. "I had a $50,000 business loan I had to pay back at some point. I had a bunch of credit card debt from trying to get that business going."

Hart wasn't in a financial hole for long. In 2019, he flipped his first home. He said it profited about $30,000, which he split with his business partner at the time. Before the end of that summer, he purchased two more flips and left insurance to work in real estate full time.

He said that his success flipping, and later wholesaling, helped him pay off his debt in two years: "There's not much else out there where you can make lump sum checks to help you pay off that debt."

Hart now works alongside a different business partner, Mike Gorius. They formed an official business partnership in 2024 under the Joe Homebuyer franchise and, in their first full year working together, did 50 transactions between wholesales, wholetails, and flips. They also own more than 20 rental properties, including short-, mid-, and long-term, in the Lousiville area. BI verified their property ownership and deal history by looking at settlement statements and closing documents.

They agree that rookie investors should consider starting with a flip for a "quick capital boost to help you get going," said Hart, whose two-pronged real estate strategy involves flipping and wholesaling to bring in cash, and then buying and holding rentals.

Of course, when it comes to flipping homes, there's always risk involved. To minimize risk and avoid losing money on your first flip, Hart and Gorius highlighted three costly mistakes.

1. Hiring the first contractor you find. Unless you're planning on doing all of the renovation work yourself, you're going to need to work with a general contractor — and finding the right person for the job is key to a successful flip. This is the person you'll be relying on to transform a fixer-upper into a marketable home.

Avoid selecting "some random contractor you find online," said Hart. "You definitely don't want to hire the cheapest one you find. They're probably cheap and available for a reason."

Instead, interview multiple contractors, call references, and look at their previous work. The more due diligence, the better off you'll be.

Keep in mind that there are residential contractors and contractors who work with investors. You want to work with the latter because "they understand what flippers are looking for," said Hart.

2. Biting off more than you can chew. "Don't take on a project that's way bigger than you can handle," said Hart, acknowledging that it's easier said than done, especially if you draw inspiration from HGTV shows that tend to feature full gut renovations. "That's not what you want on your first flip."

If he was starting from scratch in Louisville, he said he'd target a 3-bedroom, 1-bath ranch-style house that could use cosmetic upgrades: "Floors, paint, kitchen cabinets, update the bathroom and a few minor things like light fixtures and call it a day. You don't want to start a huge construction project when you have no experience doing construction."

Stick to the basics, added Gorius: "Don't pretend that you're the one moving into this house and start putting finishes on there that are overpriced or don't make sense. Stick with what works, talk to contractors, and walk other people's flips to see what finishes and paint colors and materials they're using, because they're doing that for a reason."

Their goal with a flip is to create a home that appeals to the most amount of people possible, which means neutral colors and flooring.

"In reality, if you're doing a lot of flips, flipping is a pretty boring business," said Hart. "You're using the same paint colors, you're using similar flooring. Whatever's in style that year, we're like, 'Okay, for the next five houses, this is what we're doing.'"

3. Running your numbers too optimistically. Assume the project will cost more money and take more time than you think.

"Get really good at running your numbers, and be realistic about it," said Hart, who built his own flipping calculator in Excel. That means, if you're running comps and see that one home in your market sold for $250,000 but the rest are selling for $220,000, "you can't get too excited and think, 'my house is going to be worth 250.' More likely, it'll be 220 or 230. Don't try to force the numbers to work."

Allow yourself a financial cushion because, especially as a new flipper, "something inevitably is going to go wrong or you're going to miss something in the rehab," he said. "It always happens. You can't go out there and project a flip is going to make $10,000 off the bat, and all of a sudden, you buy it and miss this $10,000 foundation issue and now you're in the hole. So you just have to make sure you're buying correctly and getting your rehab cost as accurate as possible."

• My pregnancy was planned — possibly even over-planned.
• I was surprised I wasn't happy when I got a positive test after trying for five months.
• What I was really worried about was whether I would be a good mom.

My husband and I knew when we got married that we wanted kids. And I'm a planner, so we immediately started preparing for the eventuality. We began to get our financial ducks in a row, making spreadsheets, considering the costs of the birth, of diapers, of outfitting a nursery.

We started trying after being married for about a year and a half. I cried for several months when it was just not happening. Waiting each month was torture.

I was surprised at my reaction to a positive test

After the disappointment of many negative tests, I was surprised when a test finally came back positive, and my response in the hotel bathroom was, "Oh crap." We were on a road trip on the Pacific Coast Highway, and I had started to suspect I may be pregnant when I felt like vomiting every time we passed a hot dog vendor or a subway grate in San Francisco.

I was supposed to be excited about this, obviously. It wasn't a surprise pregnancy. We had been planning for months, so things were financially on track. I had been taking prenatal vitamins. But I didn't feel excited. My first thought was, "Are we ready for this?" even though we had discussed that exact question (and about a hundred others) in the months before.

I hated being pregnant

I was not one of those women who enjoyed being pregnant. I did not feel like a fertility goddess.

What I did feel for most of my pregnancy was sick, exhausted, and emotionally conflicted. I didn't expect to hate being pregnant. I didn't expect to want to hide what I felt. I didn't feel justified not being happy when there were other people who were struggling with infertility or miscarriage.

I had no desire to celebrate my pregnancy with a photo shoot. In fact, I have very few photos of myself when I was pregnant. I bought one of those cute pregnancy journals and then gave up on it at about 20 weeks. I felt I had to fake being excited while writing in it, just like I felt I had to do with people in the real world. It was a journal for people who were happy to be creating life, not a grumpy mom-to-be who was having an existential crisis.

I wasn't feeling physically well and I wasn't mentally well either. I had a history of depression and anxiety, and my anxiety was starting to increase again as the weeks passed. I was constantly thinking about how this was going to affect me and my marriage. Had we really saved enough money? Would I hate breastfeeding? What elementary school would we send our daughter to? Pregnancy was an anxiety spiral as I tried to field all these questions and doubts.

I was wondering whether I would be a good mom

The question that was on my mind the most, however, is the one that I now know every mom-to-be has: Will I be a good mom? Because even if you've planned your pregnancy, saved your pennies, taken the classes, and read all the books, motherhood itself is still a daunting prospect. It's not something you can fully prepare for, and well, it continues to be full of surprises.

One of the most beneficial things for me during pregnancy and after was finding someone trustworthy with whom I could talk about what felt like taboo feelings. At first, it was just my therapist. As my daughter has grown, I've also found like-minded friends, and we are able to share our doubts and fears about motherhood with each other. And that's made all the difference.

• So many of our daughter's friends had cell phones, some even got them in elementary school.
• She was able to get by without one for a while, but I became her default social coordinator.
• We reevaluated our needs in 8th grade and got her a phone when she was 14.

Several years ago, my husband and I found ourselves facing a big parenting decision: At what age should we get our oldest child, who was 11 at the time, her own phone? Up until this point in parenting, our choices regarding devices had been relatively conservative. We did not have tablets for our young toddlers, and we did not have any gaming consoles or iPads for our children as they grew older. But we quickly realized that with middle school on the horizon, there was the social assumption that our child will have her own phone.

I recall my daughter being in her last year of elementary school (fifth grade where we are) and telling me that all the kids in her class had phones and brought them to school. Now, I'm sure not all of them did, but she certainly felt like she was in the minority by not having one. Turns out, she was right. From watching YouTube videos on the bus to school to sharing selfies and browsing TikTok, many of her classmates were already equipped with their own phones and social media accounts — in elementary school!

The timing wasn't right for us

We had always told our daughter that she'd get a phone when she was older. We didn't know if it would be when she was in middle school or when she was a teenager, we just knew it would be sometime later. It felt way too early for her to have access to the world in her pocket. Plus, who was she going to call or text anyway? She saw her friends at school or sports practice every day and was often able to play in the neighborhood with her buddies.

This, of course, was met with some frustration initially, but she understood our stance as parents and didn't seem to mind not having her own phone, honestly. We coordinated her time with friends as we always had, since those very first preschool playdates with other moms and her classmates. I took care of it.

At some point along the way, while she was still in elementary school, I learned about the "Wait Until 8th" pledge and how it encourages parents to wait to get their kids a smartphone until the end of eighth grade. Initially, this sounded like an amazing idea to both my husband and me. By following this pledge, we would preserve our daughter's childhood through middle school and would delay the inevitable issues that will come with her having access to much-older content via a smartphone. We pledged to each other that this was our plan. Little did we know that we'd be some of the only parents in our social group doing this.

Things started to change in middle school

When middle school started, we asked around to see which kids had phones and which didn't. It seemed that nearly three out of four kids did. Our decision really wasn't influenced by those results; rather, we made our decision based on personal values and research we had done around children and access to phones and social media. Sixth and seventh grade went by, and we found it was manageable to communicate with our daughter when we needed to, she'd often ask another parent to text us or call from a phone in her school's office.

What I wasn't prepared for, however, was how I was stuck coordinating all her social plans, and often with her own friends! The majority of her friends' parents stopped being as involved with social planning because they had gotten their kids phones, and they were now managing it on their own. My daughter not only felt left out of the planning, she was sometimes left out all together when she wasn't invited to group gatherings because her friends didn't have direct access to her.

I also often felt irritated and annoyed trying to get a hold of parents who used to do the planning with me. They had cut out the middleman and moved on to a different social landscape without us. Eventually, the frustration seemed to outweigh the negatives of having a phone in our eyes, so we thought long and hard and decided to reevaluate our stance.

For 8th grade, we reevaluated our needs

Fast-forward to the summer before eighth grade, and we realized that our daughter really did need a phone. Not for social media, mindless scrolling, or binge-watching shows, but just to be able to take her own photos and communicate with us and with her friends on her own terms (with parental guidance in place).

We surprised her with a phone this past fall and she has been extremely grateful, responsible, and mindful about its usage. She texts and FaceTimes her friends, takes a ton of photos, has an app that tells her when to water her plants, and sometimes sneaks in an episode or two of "The Office" before bed. She does not have any social media apps and we do not plan to allow her to have any until she is 16, she's 14 now. I'm curious to see if we make it to eighth grade with our younger child, or if we will shift perspectives on access to technology with this ever-changing world.

• Billionaire Bill Koch has relisted his huge Aspen compound for $125 million, its highest-ever price.
• He tried to sell it before with no luck, but he thinks the market is strong enough this time around.
• See the estate, which has a 16,631-square-foot main cabin and other amenities across 53 acres.

Winters in Colorado are cold, but real estate in the Centennial State is anything but.

One of the billionaire Koch brothers is trying again to sell his lavish Aspen compound — this time for its highest-ever price: $125 million.

If the estate were to sell for anywhere close to its asking price, it would be the most expensive home ever sold in Colorado.

Two other billionaires, former casino mogul Steve Wynn and financier Thomas Peterffy, set the current record in April 2024, paying $108 million for a 22,405-square-foot Aspen home. It marked the first time a sale in the state reached nine digits, placing Aspen among other rarified communities where properties trade for that much, including New York, LA, Palm Beach, and Miami.

William "Bill" Koch sold his stake in the family conglomerate, Koch Industries, to his brothersfor $470 million in 1983. Fast forward to 2007, when Koch spent a relatively small sum — $26.5 million — on a former dude ranch just outside the posh ski town of Aspen.

Today, after extensive renovations, it has a 16,600-square-foot main lodge and seven cabins, one of which is a home gym. The total square footage of all the structures is about 25,300. The 53-acre property also offers ample Aspen-suitable amenities, including hot tubs, hiking trails, and an altitude-acclimation room.

Koch — who is worth $2 billion as of February 21, according to Forbes — told The Wall Street Journal that the $125 million asking price is fitting given that a few of the area's ultraluxury homes have sold for around $6,000 per square foot.

"If we applied that to our 25,000 square feet, our asking price would be $150 million," Koch told the Journal.

"Scarcity fuels luxury sales in Aspen's real estate market. Just as high-end brands like Hermès and Rolex create demand through limited availability, Aspen's appeal outpaces its real estate demand," Koch's listing agent Steven Shane, of Compass, said in an email.

Take a look inside Koch's massive compound for sale and read about his journey to find a new buyer.

Bill Koch purchased the 53-acre property for $26.5 million in 2007.

According to Architectural Digest, the property was used as a dude ranch and an event venue before Koch bought it.

He added 31 more parcels onto the property in 2015.

Later in 2015, he listed the entire property for $100 million.

He dropped the price to $80 million in 2016, but it didn't sell.

Koch was able to sell the 31 acres he added on for $14.5 million in 2020.

At various points, he's tried renting out the remaining property for $35,000 per night or $300,000 a month.

There are eight structures spread out across the compound.

The main lodge is 16,600 square feet.

It has eight bedrooms and eight bathrooms.

Counting the other buildings, there are 14 total bedrooms and 17 total bathrooms.

The lodge, also known as the primary cabin, is two stories with 30-foot-tall ceilings.

It has a dining room that seats 20 people, a screening room, and a living room with a wall of windows that faces the mountains.

Other amenities around the property include a gym, hiking trails, two hot tubs, and an altitude-acclimation room.

If there's not enough to do on the grounds, the estate is only 11 miles away from Aspen by car.