I have an estranged relationship with eggs. We aren’t completely cut off from each other—we still cross paths on occasion—but our encounters are awkward, fleeting, and never quite right. At most, I’m allowed to see them once every couple of weeks, and when I do, they always insist on showing up in some strange outfit. Sometimes they’re draped in a heavy coat of soy sauce, other times they’re wrapped in a knitted avocado-green sweater of their own making, smugly nestled agains

John Cage’s 4’33” is pinned at the top of my playlist, containing no intentional sound of instruments and leaving a space that prompts audiences to notice the ambient sounds we may ignore—breathing, footsteps, wind—the sounds of nature and surroundings. One summer night, I hit play on this musical piece. While staring at my computer and struggling to finish a research essay, I suddenly heard rain pounding heavily against the window. A seasonal typhoon made landfall in my city

At a naturalization ceremony in Charlottesville, where 75 immigrants became American citizens, Debee Arvind Bouch, who came from India nine years ago, said there was "nowhere else I'd rather call home." I felt a bit jealous reading that. I don't know if I'll ever feel that certain about anywhere — not even the place I was born. I happened to be in New York during America’s 250th birthday this year - not as a citizen, just someone hoping to go to college here one day. I only c