My life and my heart were full -- a wonderful husband, three great children, a fantastic job with good benefits -- but in just one day I went from being a perfectly healthy 41-year-old woman to a breast cancer patient.
Essentially everyone I know has worked as a barista, including myself. So I understand that the barista is the unsung hero of the service industry. What I have issue grasping is why people insist on treating the slingers of their drug of choice so poorly.
With all the poppin' Molly references, sippin' syrup advocacy, swimming in pools of alcohol advertising, and chronic weed abuse promotion that hip hop has become the modern day vehicle for, it's refreshing to see health addressed positively from icons of Jay Z and Beyonce's status.
Our credit card number has been stolen at least three times in the past six months. I blame it on my husband who regularly leaves the card at various scuzzy food joints. He blames it on me for shopping online. It's probably both or neither or just the fact that credit card theft is on the rise.
If anyone still suspects that National Public Radio has a consistently liberal bias, listen to Robert Siegel's interview with Brigid Flaherty, organizing director for the Alliance for a Greater New York, a labor advocacy group, on Wednesday's All Things Considered.
Pope Francis' recent encyclical is sending shock waves around the world. In addition to exhortations to the faithful, Evangelii Gaudium ("The Joy of the Gospel") packs a scathing critique of "unbridled" capitalism and consumerism.
It was 1989, and I'd just told a former boyfriend that I was taking a break from my fundraising consulting practice to become the development director at Chicago House, a residential program for people living with AIDS. He was right: Nothing ruined the evening like telling a guy where I worked.
Hip-hop is in an interesting place right now and 2013 was a great year for the genre, however, a new OutKast album could shake up the music world more than a new Kanye, Drake, Eminem, or Jay Z album ever could in this day and age.
A political prisoner changed my life. That man, now free -- always free, really -- wore number 466 at Robben Island prison in South Africa. Today, he died. I know Nelson Mandela won't have the opportunity to read this. But I do need to write it.
This city is my Enchanted Cottage. If I don't get another man, well, I tried, and in any case I still have Man-hattan.
If you're in New York, you owe it to yourself to see the sexiest, most mind-blowing night of singing and sin you'll ever experience.
The pairing of No Man's Land with Godot is a stroke of genius, bringing the two masters of comedic and enigmatic incomprehension, Pinter and Beckett, to the stage in alternating performances that underscore the affinity between them.
Daniel Kitson is not only a marvelous story-teller. He may be our foremost meta-storyteller, and possibly because there is no other candidate. But he doesn't earn the title merely by default.
Today we are well accustomed to having some of the most enduring names in American letters long associated with The New Yorker: John Updike, appearing there for nearly sixty years; E. B. White; James Thurber; John Cheever; Rachel Carson; John McPhee; and many more. However, The New Yorker was a newcomer in 1925.
Truth is, Tyrell's effortlessly infallible phrasing has the effect of making what he does appealingly conversational. The emotion he's experiencing is a component of his seemingly off-handed -- smile-smile-smile -- style. Let's just say he's singing for all generations.
Mayor-elect de Blasio has already made that commitment a mainstay of his upcoming Administration. It's a commitment that he knows can reap huge economic returns for the city.
Mr. Escreet's Sabotage and Celebration is a complex and intriguing album that showcases the young pianist's increasing maturation as a composer. Like his playing, the album challenges the senses.