Sometimes, when work is slow, I rent my apartment to make some extra cash. Yes that’s right—I allow strangers to have sex in my bed, and I am totally okay with it. I actually feel really good about my apartment getting some ass. So if you’re running low on money and you’re okay with strangers doing it where you… Read more »
Frantic about the possibility of bedbugs? Contributor Kelly Moore finds them in her apartment and lives to tell about it… My worst New York City nightmare came true. About two weeks ago, I woke up and found a bedbug in my bathroom sink. Yes, my bathroom sink. The moment I saw, it I knew what it was…. Read more »
By the light the silvery moon, New York in June. Zero Mostel sang it best in the 1968 film The Producers. This past week, I experienced Manhattan in June. Pictured here is a cloud-swirled full moon over Washington Square; Gramercy Park balconies & ivy; Sheep Meadow squirrels; East River clouds, boats, lighthouses and bridges; the… Read more »
Last night I went to the theatre to see a wonderful play called Venus in Fur. My friend Ross was the assistant director, so I hung around afterwards to congratulate him. I was waiting on the sidewalk outside of the theatre, innocently chatting with my theatre date about love, life, and the pursuit of happiness, when… Read more »
Yesterday, a hawk soared over Central Park’s Sailboat Lake (aka the Conservatory) for twenty minutes without a landing. The British were at the Band Shell celebrating the Olympics, charity, rugby, and the Queen’s 60th year on the throne. They also brought along a beautiful classic car just because. Near the statue of the Union soldier… Read more »
Anyone who has ever given me a haphazard pat on the back knows the consequences of that simple gesture. Touching my back—out of necessity or concern or coincidence—means subjecting yourself to one of my full meltdowns. Literally I melt—my spine curves into a hump, my shoulder blades poke upward, and my chin falls to my… Read more »
There is a reason why I live in an apartment in New York, a reason that goes far beyond the reaches of Sex and the City, a reason so old and so dear it is now imprinted in my DNA. *** My father’s siblings, four in all, are a special lot, wholly different than my… Read more »
I love Lower Manhattan this time of year. I have at least 50 (no exaggeration) different spots along the water where I can sit and watch boats, or the sun, or children playing. I never get tired of seeking out new vantage points on the Hudson and East rivers because, like my ancestors of long… Read more »
Just jump on the moving train and try not to die. —Chris Rock, What to Expect When You’re Expecting I’ve been on a speeding train for the last couple of months, but I think (key word: think) it’s going to slow down a bit this summer—a mixed blessing. While it would be nice to unpack… Read more »
I lost both my hips. Their decline was due to poor genetic lotto and a thousand games played on concrete and asphalt. One stood out: Johnny on the Pony, a game of immense endurance and stupidity. The game’s strategy involved one team (“The Pony”) forming a long bent-over row like a Chinese New Year’s dragon, while the other… Read more »
