Lindsay Pugh

By the time you're reading this, I'll be on my way back from Brimfield (an outdoor antique flea market) hopefully with a car full of lamps and plant stands. Someone on Instagram called it "Coachella for people over 29 who live in NYC and own

The rain has been merciless this week, forcing me to take long, wet walks around the neighborhood followed by nightly baths. I love this time of year when everything is newly green and it feels like something good might possibly happen. My allergies are so bad that every waking moment

Do long newsletters feel like homework? Samantha Irby has me worried, so I'm going to try throwing a few short ones into the mix. I can't waste prime "taking my cat outside on a leash" weather with too much yapping, so onto the recommendations!

Another bullshit week in suck city. But you know what... the sun is shining, it's warm enough to sit outside with "Notes to John," and the universe has blessed us with a new Palladino show. There are still bright spots even when it's awful.

Approximately 10,000 horrible things happened this week, so I asked some friends to send me pictures of their pets as a palate cleanser: Leia uses buttons to communicate and once kicked guests out of her house by repeatedly pressing the "all done" button until they vamoosed. Mouse

"Sending emails two Fridays in a row? Is she on a new brain drug?" No, I'm simply using my leisure time wisely to avoid crushing ennui and spiritual vacancy. Whether or not it's working is up for debate, but it's been fun

Picture it: you're at my house for Friday night dinner. I've guzzled 1 dirty martini and now we're sitting down to glazed woodcock with a side of truffled goose head. Because I'm just as smart and worldly as the Kennedys, I'