Aquavitae: My Life in Four Drinks
Standing at the altar, holding hands, we repeated the ancient formula, and then we knelt, we opened our mouths to receive the host and took the chalice to our lips.
Standing at the altar, holding hands, we repeated the ancient formula, and then we knelt, we opened our mouths to receive the host and took the chalice to our lips.
Whether you agree with Judge Friedman’s decision or not, it must be stated that the tides are turning on the fight for marriage equality.
And what greater grocery store is there in this universe, I ask you? Its hours of operation: endless. Its selection of salty snacks: both wide and economical.
We were servers, carrying trays of bruschetta between the tables and out onto the veranda where the sun was bright on the Lake and the bare shoulders of the bridesmaids. I was 17.
The first of Adalbert Waffling’s Fundamental Laws of Magic: “Tamper with the deepest mysteries—the source of life, the essence of self—only if prepared for consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind.”
Ecologists hold that patches of land, when stripped of vegetation by natural or human processes, recover by shifting through a fairly predictable series of plant and animal communities.
For better or worse, movies are selling us hilarity for the price of a ticket and popcorn, and we’re buying it.
Bridges I have aplenty. What I crave is intersections. Intersections—those moments of synchrony, of serendipity, of crazy coincidence.