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- Barbarella Fokos on Film Festivals, Art Exhibitions, All the Things
- Ellen on Film Festivals, Art Exhibitions, All the Things
- Sarah on Film Festivals, Art Exhibitions, All the Things
- Michele Brown on Film Festivals, Art Exhibitions, All the Things
- Tales from the Vineyard | Diva Barbarella on Tales from the Vineyard Part 1: The Film Premiere
Beauties and Beasts at MoPA
It was Rosa who suggested we check out the show. At first I was hesitant: I hadn’t been to MoPA in years, and the last few shows I’d seen had been all about the history of
Tales from the Vineyard Part 3: Finally, a bit of vacation
After we returned home from the island, a few friends and family members joked that we probably needed a “vacation from our vacation.” To which I said, in a serious tone, “That was not a vacation.” Sure,
Shut Up Already (Why I hate Supermarkets)
I have this tendency to fool myself into thinking my chronic anxiety is a ruse, something I claim hyperbolically for attention, like someone declaring she has OCD because she prefers a dirty-dish-free sink. When I mention
A New Stellar Order
I wrote this story about my awesome friend, Melissa Walter. There’s a an artistic universe squeezed into a little gallery space tucked between a residential home and a tattoo parlor on the eastern edge of North
The Brain Trust Book Club
I recently joined an elite book club. There was a vetting process prior to my being invited to join this group of learned women — clearly, they were working off an inflated version of my qualifications.
Dinner Party Two-Step
The people were new, but the dance was familiar. It was the same sort of structured dinner party freestyle where most of the people know only the host but not each other. Guests begin with showy
Cocktail Caviar (playing with molecular gastronomy)
“I brought the emotion blender,” Jordan said with a smirk. He held up a box containing his immersion blender, which I’d erroneously thought was called an emulsion blender, and which my phone autocorrected to emotion blender when I’d texted my
A Room with a CLUE
The unknown is a frightful beast. It feeds on fret; if it is to remain peaceful and sated, it must be constantly dwelled upon, ideally by a vigilant worrier such as myself. It’s a bitch of
Love and falconry
“The invitation says there will be ‘picnic blanket seating,’” I said. “What do you think that means?” I expected my sister Jenny to have a better handle than I would on wedding stuff. I may have
Natural flavors
Nature abhors a vacuum, and thus it is within the lulls in conversation that the most random bits of trivia are blurted out. Usually, I’m the one doing the blurting, to mixed results: I receive the