What I'm Writing

“Make a list of what you need to do,” a friend told me after a late-night phone call and before what would manifest into a manic episode. I had been deeply dissatisfied with the lack of control in my life for a few months and was now taking advice from someone living my ideal fantasy—a wandering traveler, a free agent. I had been traveling consistently every year and was rambling about how I yearned for some extended time...

I like making carbonara a little more than I like eating it. Mix the raw eggs and cheese into a paste so they’re ready to be combined the moment the pasta is done. Move, move, move, I tell myself, quick enough so that the residual heat tempers the eggs. I want the sauce to be a velvet draping.

I live life like carbonara. Nothing necessarily crazy...

The 5am flight from Madrid to San Sebastián was just over an hour long. I sat squeezed between a French boy with an aggressive man-spread and an older gentleman with long ear hairs—a small price to pay for the view over the Pyrenees and subsequently the cornucopia of pintxos...