What are you up to tonight? We are going to dinner with friends tonight and having a “family fun night” tomorrow, which is Toby’s invention and basically means they get to eat candy and watch a movie:) Hope you have a good one, and here are a few fun links from around the web…
Into this serum that makes your skin look “luminous like a pane of glass.”
Bravo for this awesome math professor.
Rob Delaney on deep grief: “If it’s raining out, the people who don’t want to acknowledge that or understand it are offering you sunscreen. If you could just hand me an umbrella or even be like, ‘Wow, it’s pissing out,’ then I’d feel sane.”
A few ingredients, infinite possibilities.
What’s behind this secret bookcase?
What a pretty City Hall wedding.
Are you addicted to being busy? “In Chinese, the word ‘busy’ consists of two [characters], one meaning heart, the other death. More explanation is not needed. The busier we get, the more energy flows to the head and away from the heart. The busier we get, the more we tend to distance ourselves from others and their emotions. Action addiction keeps us busy and away from asking why.”
How to make a winter fruit salad.
The 8 best things to do before a trip.
Plus, two reader comments:
Says Lisa on not-so-strangers: “I used to see the same man every day while I walked the 12-minute route from home to the subway, as he walked from the subway to work. For seven years, we’d pass each other, nod and smile. We would usually pass each other as I approached the train, but if we passed when we were closer to my house, then we both knew I was running late and that would always make us laugh. Well, eventually I was moving out the apartment and I wondered if I should tell him, or if I should fade away like some NYC mystery. Since he didn’t seem to speak English, I decide mystery was better. Well, fast forward a year or so: I was running with a friend in a completely different part of the city, when who do I see? My not-so-stranger, but this time I was by his house. We both were so excited. I started saying, ‘I moved, I moved!” and he kept pointing at a building, and in broken English saying, ‘My house, my house.’ We hugged and laughed and took a selfie… and then I continued running back to the land of mystery.”
Says AK on not-so-strangers: “When I lived in New York, I’d walk through the East Village every evening, heading to my night classes. I’d pass by the fire station, where there was always a big, burly fireman with a giant mustache and tattoos up and down his arms. We’d smile but never spoke. About a year later, September 11th happened, and when life had returned to somewhat normal, I passed by the fire station again. He wasn’t there, but there was a memorial poster taped to the station door, with his smiling face looking back at me, and I finally learned his name — Manny Mojica, motorcycle enthusiast, father of two, Squad 18 and first responder.”