The last day of February means one thing: Six months until I move. That's what this date has meant for most of my adult life. I thought I would be sticking around longer, but it turns out that the siren call of the road is just too enticing. Even New York City couldn't silence it. … Continue reading Six More Months in New York City
For a variety of reasons over the years, I've held on to a great many items. Some for practical purposes, some because they function as a surrogate for my memory and, yes, even some for sentimental reasons. It happens.
Come with me on a journey into the ancient past: 2005.