Slow Love: A Playlist
I used to sing this song as if I actually believed its message: I used to love him. But I still did. Love him, that is. So I kept listening to the song in the hopes that it would somehow exorcise the feeling.
I used to sing this song as if I actually believed its message: I used to love him. But I still did. Love him, that is. So I kept listening to the song in the hopes that it would somehow exorcise the feeling.
The one great flaw of The Mindy Project might be that it can’t seem to stop making jokes.
We shouldn’t be using technology just because it makes our lives easier, or because it entertains us. We should being using it to improve our lives.
The experience of feeling death, of seeing it approach, and then at the last minute retreat, is not easily shaken.
I may be an outlier here, but I was actually sold on The Taste, ABC’s new cooking competition, when I learned that Nigella Lawson was one of the judges.
Everything — housing, food, drinks, activities — is more expensive. Places are harder to get tables at, harder to get into. Lines are longer. But isn’t that part of the thrill? That this love is never totally requited?
Pretty much everywhere on Halcyon, Goulding makes it easy for us to see ourselves in her songs, to acutely feel what she has gone through, to feel old memories of heartbreak bubbling back up to the surface.
In the past year I have consolidated most of my online activity onto Facebook. This is as surprising to me as it is to any Facebook naysayer reading this. I used to be one of you.
Some of my biggest loves, the most consuming connections, arose from cryptic, terse text messages and opportunistic late-night calls. And I have felt heartbreak and disappointment in places where there was no technology of any kind save for a landline.
“Our Symptoms, Ourselves” Alexandra Kimball Hazlitt November 29, 2012 “It is as if she lives each moment twice: first through direct…