This afternoon, I sat in O’Hare airport for hours.
A longing for one’s home during a period of absence from it.
I went to my hometown salon this week, to see the stylist who had been taking care of hair (owning it, in his words) since I was in junior high, and we did something we’d never done before: We cut my hair.
Fire is the greatest alchemist the world has ever known.
No doors ever stay permanently closed. No matter how far you go, how fast you run, your past is always nipping at your heels.
Recently, I have been finding it difficult to write about most subjects. Whether it’s subjects that are personal: dating, friendships, family, and work, or subjects that are broader: politics, community, global affairs, the economy… I find myself in a state of partial paranoia and heightened sensitivity. Maybe it’s because I feel that the orthodoxies are […]
I grew up wanting to live in Forest Hills. I grew up wanting more.