For about a year I’ve had an inadvertent subscription to New York Magazine. Somehow it just started appearing in my mailbox. I kinda thought perhaps I had tried to subscribe to The New Yorker, made some ridiculous mistake, then forgotten about the episode. Strangely, none of my credit card or bank
Read the rest of From New York to Jollibee and Back Again
A few weeks ago I started typing on one of my dad’s old typewriters. The arms of each key on the Royal Arrow moved slowly, as if moving through molasses. My words tripped over themselves, caught in the








