To Alanna, on Jirish Day

Of the things Alanna loved to tell people about herself, the fact that she was Jirish was probably her favorite. The first time she mentioned this term to me, I was a teenager – an angry, confused, and hateful teenager. I was sulking on the balcony of our shared godmother’s Upper East Side apartment, trying […]


I open my eyes, and see the same magazine clipping that’s been one strong wind away from being blown across the room – the one I keep telling myself I’m going to re-tape as soon as I get home from work. My arms extend back against my pillow, my toes past the covers and off […]