Where have I been?! Busy. Hugging my family. Sitting next to my dad, earnestly discussing work while he patiently listens. Watching my oldest sister turn from just her into a mother miraculously overnight. Weeping a lot of happy tears over said transformation. Laughing with my littlest sister (she lives in Maine and I have to absorb her physical presence when we're together, saving it up for when she leaves. I kiss her cheeks, I tackle her onto the couch, I hold her hand).Read More
Things I love: Almond butter studded with chewy bits of crystallized ginger. Very good, intensely dark chocolate, the sort that melts into velvety bitterness on your tongue. Vermont maple syrup, the real deal that glows amber in the bottle and tastes like you're standing outside in the crisp air, wearing Carhartts, breathing deeply in a stand of fir trees. Crisp rice cereal. The crunch of it, the way I like to add it to a bowl, pour cold skim milk over it, then float a layer of heavy cream on top. Oh, you think that defeats the point of skim milk? I think you're missing the point. (Pure pleasure, that's the point.)Read More
It's not exactly bright outside. Rain is streaming down past my window; the sky is growing gloomier by the minute.
A string of warm days has melted most of the snow in the city, leaving the sidewalks wet and icy. Stepping off the curb means dunking your foot into a rivulet of cold, dirty slush.Read More
Currently: listening to Etta James on stereo. Wearing a soft, oversized men’s J. Crew sweater in dark hunter green and obscenely comfortable sweatpants. Battling a headache, wondering: Would a glass of wine help or hurt? When the doctor said 'Advil', did he maybe mean to say 'Argentinian red'?
Never mind that. I’m going to put my feet up and pretend this entire city doesn’t exist. Some days I like to do that, between you and me, it’s a fun little trick, no losing our patience here! Just ignore it all!Read More
Life can be a difficult, slippery beast some days. Remember when you were in first grade? Before you even owned a real three-ring binder, and instead just carried your “papers” in a floppy manila folder? Problems at that age were concrete and clearly defined. They weren’t nebulous, sinister clouds in your head. They were numbers 1, 2, and 3 on your math worksheet. Write out the answers, done and done. Maybe you struggled (basic arithmetic can be so taxing when you want to be playing four square at recess), but the task was surmountable.Read More