Sam Gross, 1998, The New Yorker At an Arts and Fancy paper store on a Saturday morning, I came across this cartoon on a greeting card and instantly broke out into unbridled sputtering laughter. I had seen this cartoon years ago when I was in grad school and to see it again after all these[…]
The unbeatable combination of quiet desperation and being a romantic-dramatic leads to me identify most of my chance events as pure destiny. That everything that happened to me was meant to be. And that everything is about to happen to me will happen at the opportune time, over which I have very little control. This[…]
My mom would typically run a tight ship at home in terms of keeping things where they belong. However, she was never able to wage a successful war against the clutter on the dining table. The only time we would have the privilege of a clean sorted table was perhaps a half an hour before[…]
A hike amongst the lakes It feels nice to return to Michigan. It is allegedly spring here which brings with it oodles of cold rain, fairly reasonable chance of an occasional snow showers and freezing nights to ensure you don’t turn off your heater just yet. But after twenty odd days in the Swedish arctic,[…]
Spring in Michigan is decidedly pointless. While it does warm up from the frigid winter temperature it is still not warm enough to shed winter wear. The Sun is covered constantly by a cloud cover and there is always the threat of lingering snow showers or even worse, freezing rain. The occasional chirping of the[…]
I am hovering between feelings of astonishment, admiration and despair. A young adult, about the same age as me, has an idea for a website. Launches the site and within a few years he find himself and his website priced at $6 billion dollars by Google. Meanwhile, I worked a five years and after going[…]