My name is Laura ( Read more... )

I'm home. There's no food in the fridge. And this is how the rest of the journey looked.


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I come home.

The A train, English, bodega grilled cheese, pad thai, high heels, cheeseburgers, cupcakes, Tartine, Focaccia, Malatesta, the bridge, Century 21, the Met for 5 cents, cucumber sake martinis, the Hudson, Housing Works, book group, Shake Shack, celebrity sightings, OHNY, Central Park, 'Ino, Cafe Henri, workshop, monologues, Media Bistro, the ( Read more... )

It's funny to me sometimes that I spent so many of my youthful hours trying to be the Voice of Reason in the Hanson fan community ( Read more... )

Who wanted to know what I was reading in Europe:

Paris
Eat, Pray, Love
Wuthering Heights

Italy
Invisible Cities
The Book of Exodus

Ireland
The Pearl
A Wizard of Earthsea

South of France, Italy Again, Greece
A short story collection by Toni Cade Bambara
1,001 NightsSome Greek myths ( Read more... )

I could write about Paris but I won't. How I'm almost done here. How I broke a spell on Sunday night. How I have no idea what's next. So I thought I'd just show you.


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There is a couple. A man and a woman. Speaking German. And the woman is young, sharp-featured, and the chemotherapy has taken everything. Her eyebrows. The color from her cheeks so she looks sallow and wan despite her smile. And they hold hands and chatter and kiss as they wait in the queue. And my friend says ( Read more... )

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