• My partner and I started a non-alcoholic drink brand called (parentheses) together.
• At first, we were worried about working together, and didn't want to 'mix business with pleasure.'
• But our relationship had a strong foundation, and it has only gotten stronger.

Almost all business books will tell you not to mix business with pleasure. We're in a place as a society where folks can decide which axioms make sense for our own lives and which just didn't age well. To me, hearing "Don't start a business with your partner" sounds as outdated as "Choose a company with a good pension, and you're set for life." While pensions are a relic in the private sector, US Census data shows that 10% of American businesses are owned by couples. My husband and I are in that 10% — and we're stronger than ever.

Countless couples, friends, and family members run successful businesses together. Complications are bound to arise from all interpersonal relationship dynamics, so why not start a business with someone who knows you inside and out? Someone who understands your tendency to bite off more than you can chew or knows which activities help you relax or possess the skills and knowledge that are so complementary to yours that you decided to make them your person until death do you part. For all the aforementioned reasons, starting a business with my husband has actually strengthened our relationship.

We tried not to work together, but realized it was a great fit

Nick and I actively tried not to work together because we obviously both knew that mixing business with pleasure could be risky. But hey, starting a business is one of the riskiest adventures anyway. Go hard or go home, right? We built such a strong foundation as a couple that the possibility of anything, especially work, breaking down our bond felt overwhelming. Then we asked ourselves an important question: Who else could sell this extremely niche seaweed vinegar non-alcoholic drink we created but us? That realization gave us the courage to start a business together.

We started a non-alcoholic drink brand called (parentheses) that was born out of our own personal recovery journeys. Nick and I met in an AA meeting when we both had a few years of sobriety under our belts. Those years before we met (and after!) were filled with peer support and mental health support, unpacking why we each relied on alcohol so heavily in the past.

In addition to my personal experience, I spent years researching, studying, and interviewing people about how their relationship patterns intersect with their alcohol use while writing a book. Nick and I, like many of my subjects, dealt with the emotional upheaval and required boundary-setting that often comes from changing one's relationship with alcohol. After going through emotional hell and back, creating a marketing plan together or debating over bottle sizes just isn't that big of a deal.

Communication is key

Individually, we've learned healthy coping skills — many of which can be distilled into one word: communication. Learning how to communicate before we met each other makes us a strong couple; identifying and accommodating our individual communication styles makes us excellent business partners.

Clear communication only works when you trust the person you're communicating with. How clear can your communication be without honesty? Nick and I learned that admitting that we needed to reevaluate our relationships with booze requires a great deal of honesty with ourselves and others — a virtue we bring into the ethos of our business. That humility also taught us an even more valuable lesson: It's OK to ask for help.

We ask for help all the time, both as a couple and as business partners. Whether asking for assistance with a project or getting advice from people more established in our industry, we don't feel "weak" for knowing we can't do it all. We know which skills we each have, which skills the other has, and which skills we need to outsource or learn.

Having self-awareness about what we each bring to the table helps us work more efficiently (and happily!). Being stubborn just doesn't work. Trust us; we've tried. We often joke that Nick would rather be covered in vinegar-mother slime while making our drink, and I'd much rather make a TikTok of him covered in said slime.

The arduous work we do in our personal recovery programs teaches us to focus on what we can control. We bring this mindful life approach to running a small business, too. We can control producing our small-batch, artisanal product and creating intentional marketing plans, so that's where the bulk of our energy goes.

We can't control that we're an indie brand swimming in a sea of VC-backed brands. We also can't control who likes or dislikes our drink. There will always be drink brands with more capital and stores that don't want to sell our product. The trick to staying (relatively) sane when working with your spouse or romantic partner is finding the nuggets of controllability when life happens on life's terms. Those nuggets also lead to forming a stronger bond as a couple.

The most important aspect of running a business with a spouse or partner is knowing when to clock out to make time for life's other pleasures. There are evenings when we both feel defeated after a day filled with low sales or getting lost in bureaucratic red tape with the Department of Agriculture that makes us want to scratch our eyes out.

But we have each other, a beautiful home, and fur babies who remind us that being silly can alleviate much of life's stressors. We have our healthy, learned coping skills. And we have a nice drink to sip, reminding us why we decided to sell this thing in the first place. Running a business, especially with your partner, is one day at a time, too.

• Donald Trump says he's decided his vice presidential pick but hasn't revealed the name.
• Trump hinted the chosen running mate will attend Thursday's debate against Biden.
• Trump said he plans to announce his pick around the Republican National Convention, which begins July 15.

Donald Trump says he's already decided who his running mate will be but that nobody else knows who it is.

At a stop along the campaign trail in Philadelphia on Saturday, NBC News asked Trump if he knows yet who he'll pick as his vice presidential candidate.

"In my mind, yeah," the former president answered.

He said that his pick will be at the presidential debate against incumbent Joe Biden on Thursday. "They'll be there," he told NBC. "I think we have a lot of people coming."

But not even the VP knows yet they've been chosen in Trump.

Trump was asked if his pick knows they've been selected, and Trump responded, "No, nobody knows," according to Fox News.

Trump has been considering four top contenders for the nomination: North Dakota Gov. Doug Burgum, Sen. Marco Rubio of Florida, Sen. JD Vance of Ohio, and Sen. Tim Scott of South Carolina.

Burgum and Vance have recently emerged as finalists from that list, sources told NBC News last week. Sources told the outlet that Rubio is also still a possibility, but the issue with Rubio is that either he or Trump would likely need to establish residency outside of Florida as both candidates hailing from the same state could pose a problem if the election is a close call.

Though the mystery running mate is expected to be present at the debate, their selection will most likely not be publicly announced at or ahead of the debate, according to Trump.

Trump told NBC News he plans to make the VP announcement "right around the convention," where he is expected to receive his party's formal nomination. The Republican National Convention begins in Milwaukee on July 15 and runs until July 18.

"Maybe a little before, but could be at the convention," Trump said. "But we'll have some great people."

• Netflix added a new line about its "keeper test" in an updated version of its culture memo.
• The test is when a manager asks themselves if they would fight to keep an employee. If the answer is no, they're fired.
• Netflix's culture deck is famous in the corporate world for its directness in stating company values.

Netflix overhauled its famous culture memo — and that means a new line added about its "keeper test" used by managers to determine if they should fire an employee.

The keeper test was previously defined as when a manager asks "If a team member was leaving for a similar role at another company, would the manager try to keep them?"

If the answer was "No," the employee was given generous severance and cut so that a stronger replacement could be found.

Netflix has long been known to operate its business like a sports team, not a family, and the keeper test is part of that culture. This also means tenures can be brief as the company seeks out top talent and is quick to cut underperformers.

The keeper test has since evolved to, "If X wanted to leave, would I fight to keep them?" Or, "Knowing everything I know today, would I hire X again?" If the answer is no, the memo says it's fairer for everyone to part ways.

So, the same idea just worded a bit differently — but it also now includes a disclaimer.

"In the abstract, the keeper test can sound scary," Netflix says in the latest version of its culture memo. "In reality, we encourage everyone to speak to their managers about what's going well and what's not on a regular basis. This helps avoid surprises."

In the abstract, the keeper test can sound scary. In reality, we encourage everyone to speak to their managers about what's going well and what's not on a regular basis. This helps avoid surprises. Managers also evaluate team members on their whole record, rather than focusing on the mistakes or bets that didn't pay off. On the Dream Team, you need people who challenge the status quo and try new things. So we stick with employees through short-term bumps.

Netflix's keeper test was first introduced in an over 100-page memo published in 2009. Netflix used to encourage managers to do the test once per quarter, founder and former CEO Reed Hastings said. He reportedly used it to fire his product chief and longtime friend after 18 years.

The memo, which was originally regarded as fairly blunt for a public corporate document, has had several revisions since it was first released and is now only five pages.

Netflix co-CEO Greg Peters said in an interview with The Verge's "Decoder" podcast that the memo is shorter because the company got "better at articulating" its practices.

In the interview published Monday, Peters said that the original memo may have also incorrectly communicated that Netflix "was a harsh and maybe cutthroat place," which he said it isn't. In the three versions after, Peters said the company may have swung too far on the other side of the pendulum and went too soft.

The co-CEO said that in the versions that followed the original, employees also misinterpreted the company's statement on "freedom and responsibility" — which essentially said Netflix employees were trusted to act in the company's best interest and weren't micro-managed — and acted in ways that weren't in line with its collective corporate goals. It has since deleted that section and its new section, "People Over Process," includes a statement about hiring "unusually responsible people who thrive on this openness and freedom."

The new memo also says "Not all opinions are created equal" and that, as the company has grown, it's no longer possible for everyone to weigh in on every decision.

The latest memo was made publicly available on June 24 and went through eight months of vetting and 1,500 comments from employees, according to a report from The New York Times.

You can read the newest version of Netflix's culture memo here.

• Ukraine and Russia are in an arms race to produce more drones to fuel their war efforts.
• One senior Ukrainian official described this as a kind of "cat-and-mouse game."
• "We do our best to be five steps ahead," Mykhailo Fedorov told Business Insider.

Away from the front lines in Ukraine, an unprecedented arms race is underway.

Kyiv and Moscow have both sought to significantly ramp up production of unmanned systems as each side looks to out-produce their enemy and score a numerical advantage. But it's not just numbers. One senior Ukrainian official said technology is making a difference on the battlefield and is constantly going through evolutions.

"For the first time in human history, the tech war has moved at such a pace," Mykhailo Fedorov, Ukraine's minister of digital transformation, said in translated remarks shared with Business Insider. He added "it's more like a cat-and-mouse game now, with one side advancing over the other."

Drones of all kinds have been invaluable in this war, with both sides using them to regularly to complete a variety of battlefield tasks, including carrying out attacks, conducting surveillance, monitoring enemy troop movements, laying mines, dropping bombs, delivering supplies, and evacuating casualties.

Both Ukraine and Russia have prioritized unmanned systems as a cheap but effective way to keep pace with the ever-evolving nature of this grinding conflict.

Russia has dramatically ramped up drone production, including its first-person-view drones, and trained thousands of operators, putting pressure on the Ukrainians to keep up.

"In terms of drone production, we see that Russia produces rather quickly," explained Fedorov, who has been at the forefront of Ukraine's war-time efforts to strengthen domestic innovation and procure unmanned systems.

"But at the same time, we do our best to be five steps ahead," he added.

Ukrainian officials said in December that Kyiv plans to produce one million first-person-view, or FPV, drones by the end of this year. These relatively cheap systems have had a tremendous impact, but building that many would be a monumental effort that would require the country to boost its already-elevated production levels. Ukraine also aims to produce thousands of other systems.

FPV drones, specifically, have emerged as an ever-present threat on the modern battlefield. Both Ukraine and Russia have relied on these systems, oftentimes nothing more than a small quadcopter drone loaded up with explosives, as a cheap way to deliver precision strikes on enemy personnel, positions, and armor.

In February, Fedorov said Ukraine will reach its FPV production goals by the end of the year. Some officials have said that Kyiv may actually eclipse these figures because the country is capable of producing 150,000 drones a month.

Even though Ukraine has its eyes set on 1 million FPV drones, Fedorov told BI that Kyiv still plans on producing other unmanned systems like exploding naval drones and long-range attack drones.

"Different missions require different drones," he said.

Naval drones and long-range attack drones, in particular, have emerged as innovative — and successful — solutions for Ukraine in areas where Kyiv had been lacking earlier in the war due to its essentially nonexistent navy and a shortage of missiles.

Ukraine doesn't have any warships of its own, but it has leaned on two types of naval drones to damage Russia's Black Sea Fleet, effectively forcing Moscow to relocate its vulnerable assets away from its long-held headquarters in the occupied Crimean peninsula. Initially, these naval drones were just packed with explosives, but now they also feature rocket launchers and heat-seeking missiles.

Long-range attack drones, meanwhile, emerged as a way for Ukraine to skirt restrictions on using Western weapons and conduct strikes deep inside Russian territory. Using domestically produced unmanned aircraft, Kyiv has gone after strategic military and energy facilities hundreds of miles from the front lines.

"You can track the successes of Ukraine's long-range program by the surprising news coming from Russia," Fedorov said.

• Someone finally mentioned Daeron Targaryen "House of the Dragon."
• Daeron is Alicent and Viserys' youngest son, sent as a ward to Oldtown — the seat of House Hightower.
• We won't see Daeron this season, but here's what role he plays in "Fire and Blood."

Warning: Spoilers ahead for "House of the Dragon" season two, episode two and for the book "Fire and Blood."

On this week's "House of the Dragon," Alicent and Otto Hightower finally remember that there's one more Targaryen/Hightower child floating around in Westeros.

That kid is Daeron, the youngest of Alicent and Viserys' four children and their third son. In both "Fire and Blood" and "House of the Dragon," Daeron was sent off as a ward to Oldtown, the seat of House Hightower. Now that Aegon II has removed Otto as his Hand (for those who are keeping score at home, this is the second time that's happened), Otto suggests going back to Oldtown to mentor Daeron. Alicent sends him instead to Highgarden, to bring House Tyrell in line.

Hearing about Daeron is a bit abrupt, given that we never saw him in season one. And you shouldn't expect to see him in season two: Showrunner Ryan Condal told Variety that Daeron hadn't yet been cast, and that at this point in the show, the character hadn't yet had his first dragon ride.

"He will come to the narrative and have a role to play, just as he does in the book — we're just not there yet in the storytelling," Condal said.

However, if you're curious about what may be to come, here's what happens to Daeron in "Fire and Blood." That doesn't necessarily mean these events will unfold in the same manner on "House of the Dragon," which has tweaked things (and even made some big changes) in the past.

But if you're concerned about major spoilers for either, it's best not to read ahead.

Daeron is Alicent and Viserys' youngest child

In "Fire and Blood," Alicent gives birth to Daeron around the same time Rhaenyra gives birth to her first child, Jacaerys. While "House of the Dragon" doesn't exactly follow the "Fire and Blood" timelines, Condal said that by season one, episode eight, all of the older Targaryen children are around the 17 to 21 age range. It's probably safe to assume that Daeron is, at minimum, in his late teens on the show.

In the book, Daeron is also bonded to Tessarion, who's described in the book as a "lovely blue she-dragon." Daeron, George R. R. Martin writes in "Fire and Blood," the most charming and well-liked of Alicent's sons, and was sent to serve as a cupbearer and squire to Lord Ormund Hightower in Oldtown at age 12.

Daeron's positioning in Oldtown came into play during the war, after Otto Hightower asked Ormund to quell several rebelling lords in the Reach. When Ormund was overwhelmed at the Battle of the Honeywine, Daeron saved him by entering the battle on Tessarion. After the battle, Ormund named Daeron a knight, bestowing upon him the title "Ser Daeron the Daring."

Daeron continued fighting with Lord Hightower in the Reach, eventually advancing on King's Landing after Rhaenyra claimed it during the war.

Daeron's fate was tied to the town of Tumbleton

During the war, the town of Tumbleton was one of the last strongholds between Ormund Hightower's march and King's Landing. Two of Rhaenyra's dragon riders, Hugh Hammer and Ulf White (bonded to Vermithor and Silverwing, respectively) were sent to defend it. However, after Daeron and Tessarion arrived, Hugh and Ulf switched sides and razed the town.

After the conquest, soldiers continued to menace the people of Tumbletown, though two historical accounts in "Fire and Blood" claim that Daeron attempted to stop the pillaging. The forces languished in the city rather than marching on King's Landing, and Hugh and Ulf began to make demands — in Hugh's case, to become a king himself.

Offput by Hugh and Ulf's ambition, lords serving under Prince Daeron conspired to kill them, and Daeron co-signed the plan. But before they could carry it out, Addam Velaryon (previously Addam of Hull) attacked the city on his dragon Seasmoke, eager to reclaim it and prove his loyalty to Rhaenyra's cause.

Addam's attack kicked off the Second Battle of Tumbleton while Daeron was still sleeping in his tent. Though the historical records referenced in "Fire and Blood" don't agree with the manner of his death, he was killed at some point during the subsequent battle.

Tessarion, Seasmoke, and eventually Vermithor fought, and all three dragons died as a result. Addam Velaryon also died during the battle.

• I spent four nights on Carnival Cruise Line's new Carnival Firenze cruise ship.
• The quality of the vacation reflects its relatively affordable fares.
• I have two major gripes about my experience: the lackluster food and incessant upselling.

People love to hate Carnival Cruise Line. After sailing on the new Carnival Firenze, I now understand why: The food was as bad as the incessant upselling.

The company's ships have a reputation for being affordable but rowdy, so much so that it had once threatened to fine unruly travelers $500.

But this sour standing doesn't seem to be negatively impacting business. Lately, it's been the opposite. Its parent company, Carnival Corp, experienced "record" deposits and high-priced bookings in the first quarter of 2024.

Despite its growing popularity, I don't think I'll willingly book another Carnival cruise, or at least Carnival Firenze, again.

And it's not for the reasons you might expect.

My four nights on Carnival Firenze weren't stellar — not because of the rambunctious crowd (shocker, I know), but because of the terrible food and annoyingly endless upselling.

Carnival certainly lives up to its reputation of having affordable cruises.

The cheapest Carnival Firenze itinerary in 2024 is a four-night sailing for $359 per person, including taxes and fees. That's less than $90 a night for a hotel room at sea, unlimited food, onboard activities, and the chance to see Catalina Island and Ensenada, Mexico.

Not bad, considering that new ships typically have a steep pricing premium (Royal Caribbean's new Icon of the Seas mega-ship starts at more than $260 a night).

The fares can’t be beat. And the quality of the food reflects that.

Look, I'm not expecting caviar and freshly shaved truffles on every plate. I can respect a sloppy burger and simple pasta, as I expected for a Carnival cruise. And seeing complimentary dishes like beef tartare was unexpectedly welcomed.

Unfortunately, everything I ate was mediocre.

The best word to describe most of my Carnival Firenze meals is "sweet."

The honey mustard dressing at the buffet salad station was so sugary it could've been a dessert. But even the thick, saccharine texture couldn't moisten up the incredibly bone-dry chicken.

Sure, sure. Honey mustard is supposed to be jam-packed with sugar, and I poured it with a heavy hand. But I think a salad dressing shouldn't send diners into a sugar rush.

Some savory dishes were overpowered by unnecessary sweetness.

My main dining room entrée of shrimp and fish cake could've been great. The shrimp was perfectly bouncy, and while the fish cake was questionably mushy, it was seasoned well with a dried garlicky, oniony spice mix.

Unfortunately, the accompanying tomato sauce, sweetened like it was meant to be a sorbet, lost all of the dish's accolades.

A good tomato sauce strikes a delicate balance between sweetness and acidity. This was just sugar — and a profound ability to make decent seafood taste bad.

The dining room's clams and linguini could've also been a win if not for some major issues.

I didn't love that it came with only four or five clams, but I do love pasta dishes with a contrasting texture!

Unfortunately, said "texture" was a hard, small piece of plastic hidden among the mound of noodles.

If the food wasn’t sweet, it was heavy.

The Guy Fieri-branded burger joint accrued lines before it opened for lunch. I, drawn to hyped food places like a moth to a light, was excited by its popularity.

Unfortunately, I couldn't enjoy it for long. I hit a food coma about four bites into the decadently greasy pepperoni pizza burger, served with a thick slab of fried mozzarella.

By day two, I began dreaming of light vegetables, freshness, and fiber.

But the two complimentary dining venues that catered to these needs — the Fresh Creations salad stand and La Strada Grill with sandwiches and sides — were only open during the last day of the sailing. At that point, the lack of fiber had already done its damage.

I even tried ordering off the vegan menu for breakfast one morning. Unfortunately, I was denied my meatless dish: The waiter said vegan breakfasts had to be ordered the night before, a restriction I've yet to see on another cruise.

The mediocre food marred my experience, but it wasn't the worst part of my Carnival cruise.

That title goes to the incessant, in-your-face upselling, done with a persistent annoyance reminiscent of an annoying fly buzzing around your home.

On paper, Carnival offers some ultra-cheap cruise fares. In reality, once you board the ship, you'll be met with an unsavory amount of pay-to-play options that could quickly double your vacation cost.

Mass-market cruise lines have been increasingly upselling on-board amenities and activities.

On Norwegian's newer ships, this includes slapping a $10 fee on the mini-golf course. On Royal Caribbean's latest vessel, this means paying $49 for a ropes course that could be completed in less than a minute.

But on Carnival, even complimentary venues had pay-to-play options.

For example, the buffet, where guests had to pay for chicken wings.

Or the free dining room, where breakfast juices — shown by a waiter at each table — could be purchased for $5.

Looking for a midday snack? You could hit complimentary venues like Il Mercato for sausages or the pizza stand for, well, pizza. Just be prepared to pay $6 if you want a Korean barbecue steak pie instead of pepperoni.

The dreaded dollar sign symbol followed me day to night, on and off the ship.

The nightly movie screenings were free to attend. But if you want a bag of buttery popcorn, you'll have to pay $4.

That's the same price guests had to pay if they wanted to take a shuttle from the port in Ensenada, Mexico, to downtown.

Even scheduled on-board activities had unnecessarily gratuitous upcharges.

Tea bags during "Tea Time" were $1.50. Unaware of the price before being approached by the server, I declined on the principle of not wanting to pay.

A few minutes later, he returned to inform me that he did, in fact, have two free options stashed behind the up-charged ones: Lipton and Bigelow's green tea — the only tea bags available at the buffet.

At breakfast, a server joked that my croissant and Lipton tea would cost $20.

If I didn't know any better, I would've believed him. It seemed like almost everything I wanted came with a sneaky price tag, as intended by its parent company.

Travelers spent more money aboard Carnival Corp's ships in the first quarter of 2024 than in the same time last year. To continue this success, Josh Weinstein, president and CEO of Carnival Corp, told investors in March that the company will continue to "push and press" its cruise lines to "optimize and maximize both on the ticket and onboard spending."

In truth, the ship does have some redeeming qualities.

The mini-golf course, waterslides, board games, and elevated ropes course were complimentary and a great way for families to pass sea days.

I arrogantly found the whole Italy-themed decor (it is called Firenze, after all) a bit tacky. But if you love the idea of a garish Las Vegas-ified Italy — think, the Walmart version of the Venetian — you could find some joy in the kitsch.

But these amenities weren’t enough to overlook the mediocre food and difficult-to-resist upselling.

Cruises are meant to be relaxing and fun. There's nothing relaxing about having to think about your finances whenever you're met with a pay-to-play option, which felt constant on Carnival Firenze. Nor is there anything fun about chewing into a piece of hidden plastic.

If you want the vacation of your dreams on Carnival's new ship, be prepared to pay up. But at that point, you might as well save that money for another ship — or cruise line.