My Dog is Chelsea

Location: A bar stool at my favorite watering hole. Time: Late Friday night/early Saturday morning. I hate talking about my job. Why? Because I don’t like my job, and therefore any conversation regarding it is inevitably horrible. But when you first meet someone, almost always, you have to discuss your job. I think this is [...]

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I will put a real post here when I get home from work, but this is just to say that my Internet connection lately�has been quite shoddy—even my modem has decided to go haywire, not just my wireless card—and so I’m a) behind in my blog reading and b) behind in my blogging. Sincerest apologies. [...]

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Because New York City has the wonderful ability to fly through time on Saturdays (or, rather, because the Sunday New York Times is so large here that half of it arrives on Saturday), I have insider information about this week’s crossword puzzle. It has a strange theme! More on this later…

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Walking my dog yesterday, I saw something in the corner of my eye: a blue and red sign in someone’s window proclaiming, “W Stands For Women.” Above it, a faded, half-fallen Bush/Cheney campaign sign was clinging with all its might to the cold window glass. W stands for a lot of things: Women. Warmonger. Weapons. [...]

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“He’s the kind of guy who flies coach,” said the man two stools down from me. I knew immediately that I was in the wrong bar. His friend nodded. “It’s so embarrassing to be back there with all those people.” I looked away and sipped my $13 glass of wine, described by the menu as [...]

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