A Return to Babysitting

I’ve been a babysitter for more than half my life. I grew up in Hartland, Michigan—a town of about 15,000 people between Detroit and Lansing—and my babysitting career began pretty typically for a suburban kid: I went from watching my younger brothers and cousins on occasion, to babysitting children in my subdivision, to babysitting all around my hometown after I got my driver’s license. I continued babysitting on and off for the next few years, but had stopped almost entirely by the time I graduated college.

Profit and Authenticity in a Racing Community

Late last year, Facebook-for-runners was abuzz with the announcement that the San Diego-based Competitor Group will be putting on a Rock and Roll half marathon in Brooklyn in October.

The Poverty-Stricken Half-Jewish Brooklyn Christmases Of Our Youth

I didn’t really understand the import of the food pantries and the free gift grab bags at the church, but I could sense the desperation of my mom’s situation.

AirBnb Ruined Our Lives and Turned Us Into Entitled City Dwellers

If you live in New York, you’ve probably seen the subway ads for AirBnb. They display hosts who have made serious money through the tech company—the king of the “sharing economy.” AirBnb has recently won significant legal battle by proving its own legality. It was ruled that AirBnb hosts who live in the apartment or house they are renting out are within the boundaries of the law. Well, that’s us. We’re legal. And yet, if I’m honest with myself, AirBnb has basically ruined my life. And it can ruin yours, too.

The Roommates I’ve Had at the Places I’ve Lived

Remembering the people we’ve lived with.

The Very Anecdotal Demographics Of My Neighborhood CSA

Last Wednesday marked a very momentous occasion in our house: we had our annual volunteer shift for my CSA share. CSA being the very utopian and nice-in-theory thing where you pay money up front and get produce, eggs, flowers, sometimes meat and cheese, from local farms. And like all utopian enterprises, there’s an obligatory volunteer shift.

I ended up actually enjoying my shift last year, if for no other reason than it let me pretend for those few dozen trips carrying pallets of root vegetables that I was actually part of something, like I was some sort of adorably ineffective farmhand who kept her complaints to herself and smiled for the shareholders.

Leaving Atlanta and Landing in New York

We’re doing fine. I keep meaning to write an update, but I never seem to have the time. Things have been pretty crazy and overwhelming and exhilarating and scary and fun.

My Last Hundred Bucks: Books, Books, Books, Cigs

Where did you last hundred bucks go, Bennett Madison?

Why Is a Candy Bar More Expensive in Manhattan? (Some Theories)

Candy bar at the bodega near my house in Brooklyn: $1. Candy bar at the bodega near my office in Midtown Manhattan: $1.25.

Place I’ve Lived: Broken Leases, Okay Credit Score

Liz Goodfellow has lived in some places.