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Back in my college days, or as some might call them, "the salad days of youth," I liked to go to the Mall of America, affectionately referred to as the Deathmall, and just...amble around. (I had also not yet perfected my abuse of the comma, but that's another story) This was also a time when, thanks to abundant student aid and a student job, I ( Read more... )

From a NYT article about a World Bank oil proposal ( Read more... )

My skin smells of sandalwood, but my wrists are bare of bangles, and when I look out the window, I do not see the Himalayan mountains.

I haven't had Rice Krispies for breakfast in a really long time. Because we had guests, I picked up some extra cereal the other day. This morning, it took only one spoonful of milk-sodden, crackling rice krispies to send me back down memory lane. To me, Rice Krispies is a camp breakfast. It's never something that we had at home. The only ( Read more... )