Made for 9/12/13, this captured something about my city I didn’t know I needed when I saw it last year. Breaks your heart open, but it’s a fitting, hopeful start to a somber day.
I thought that killer drones were silent and practically invisible – until I counted seven of the silver objects circling in the summer sky overhead, buzzing endlessly like angry bees. If you believe that all guns sound the same and one explosion is much like another, then Gaza’s ceaseless symphony of war will provide an […]
Somewhere between shoveling down handfuls of peanut butter M&Ms and almost missing my stop on the train home because I was falling asleep, I crossed over from stressed out zombie human to stressed out zombie human that cannot layer any more stress on top of what already exists so chose instead to find the fun in the insanity. The insanity of course being the looming midnight Monday deadline for getting host families for the first wave of our 2,360 exchange students. Every time I slogged through a phone call with an overly chatty reference, or left that 14th voicemail about needing a picture of a family’s bathroom, it was all in the name of getting to hit that ‘family placement confirm’ button to make another kid’s dream come true.
"Dude, nah, I’m not famous on Facebook. You’re thinking of Instagram- I’m totally famous on Instagram."
"He can’t ever go back to Williamsburg, he’s getting married."
New Yorkers, please be better than this.