Monday mornings are bad, but this week's was exceptional—in addition to the usual dread of the numerous obstacles between me and the next weekend, it was marked by distinct feelings of loss and despair. First I was informed that the young man who cuts my hair—the only person I've ever trusted not to make a clown out of me—is moving back to Australia "forever, and never coming back." Then, even worse, I confirmed a fear I had had since the previous Friday evening—my favorite Chinatown... More >>>