The Street Where I Live

British by birth, New Yorker by nature.



TGIFAlexandra king1 Comment
tracy emin

What a week. In case you missed it, here are some words I wrote about the Paris attacks in the immediate days after. I've felt a little self-conscious of posting too much this last week- it just hasn't felt right. As a journalist, I have many friends covering the attacks on the ground right now, and I've been worried for their wellbeing. Truly, the news has just felt like a series of punches, hasn't it? It's particularly tough here in America, where the 24-hour broadcast cycle reigns, meaning every excruciating detail is combed over, every hateful piece of explosive rhetoric from mad Senator Tom, Dick and Harry or whatever repeated. After spending what felt like the full 48 hours last weekend with Anderson Cooper and friends, fingers clenched hard into my coffee cup, for the next two days, I'm consciously turning off. I'll keep my candles burning for the too-many in Lebanon, and Syria and France who have suffered and are suffering now. I'll hug my beloved husband and our sweet kitties tight. I'll call my family and friends and tell those dopes how much I goddam love them. I've got big plans, I tell you. Have a beautiful weekend, cute readers. I'm sending you love.

A sweet ornament for an upcoming Christmas  tree

It's going to be okay

I realized this week that every girl in Brooklyn dresses like a member of Wilson Phillips (I'm totally fine with this, FYI) 

Happy accidents

Obsessed with this old-school love song (and Annie's minnie ears)  

Aiming to up Isaac's NFL snack game with this simple recipe

Gloria x Notorious RBG= amazing 

Christmas in 24 hours. I actually watched the entire thing and found it impossibly moving. Though it made me feel super super homesick, sniff.

After a horrible week of news, this was a welcome piece of relief. Almost dangerously hilarious

The belt I've been dreaming that someone would make. Elizabeth Suzann rose to the challenge, obvs

I'm eyeing up these PJs for cold season sleeping