I have two good things to report: It’s fall. I got a radio. Considering the fact that I’ve always wanted to be the type of person who wears oversized wool sweaters and listens to NPR, I’ve made quite a dent in my bucket list. I can take no credit, of course, for the weather. Summer in New… Read more »
Posts Tagged: Emily Sproch
Last week, I found myself concurrently reading two books by two different men named Hedges. I found the coincidence extraordinary. 1. Peter Hedges, The Heights If you are one of my regular readers, you may recall that before my illustrious career as a writer, I dabbled in the theatre. My undergraduate degree is, in fact, in… Read more »
When I was a child, my best friend Beth and I loved to play a game called Teenagers. The object of the game was to act like teenagers and involved props (lip-gloss, pocketbooks). Beth always wanted her alter-ego to be nineteen, but I felt there was something brassy and garish about that number. For me,… Read more »
When I took stock of my schedule last week, I was pleased to note that the first installation of my new blog “Almost Cultured” would coincide with a truly refined and urbane experience: dinner at Café Boulud. My husband and I were in possession of a $100 gift certificate to Café Boulud, and—since Monday was… Read more »
Men as socks. Some men are argyles. Safe socks. This column socks. Thus begins Carrie’s brainstorming in the second episode of the fifth season, Unoriginal Sin. “I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here, ladies,” she says. “Last week, I wrote about my search for the perfect French fry.” I am both sorry and relieved… Read more »
Who’s that petite single New York writer I keep seeing on TV with the fabulous sense of style? You know, the one with the rocking bod and kind of unconventional face who so breezily mixes glamour with sarcasm and wit? I think her name starts with a C… Meet Carole Radziwill—Emmy and Peabody-award winning journalist,… Read more »
Big and Carrie had red balloons and “Moon River” and absofuckinlutely. My husband and I haveThe Wall. Nick and I met during our freshman year at Syracuse University. I was a nervous girl from Maine with a bad haircut and a boyfriend back home; he was a bandana-wearing, Marlboro Reds-smoking force of nature, swooping anyone… Read more »
