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About Houston

In my head, I’d be ramblin’, “Marge, you’re too soft for this!” But I’d push on, askin’ her stuff—like, “What’s your day like?” She’d shrug, “Same old, same old.” I’d nod, feelin’ that *Blue* vibe—life’s messy, raw, real. “I’m not enough,” Adèle cries in the movie, and I’d think, “Candy prolly feels that too.” Deep, huh?

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I gotta mention Eagle’s Nest Park too, a serene spot with ancient oak trees that shelter more confessions than a therapist’s couch. I've sat there so many times, watching couples argue and then passionately reconcile under the lazy afternoon sun. It's nature’s own soap opera, chaotic and beautiful.

Columbia Journalism Review Faces the Kind of Crisis It Usually Covers