In Marfa, Texas, nothing is quite as it seems. Not in a PBS murder mystery kind of way, but literally.

Almost every building here seems to have been converted from something else, in most cases an old gas station or grain store. And the gas stations that still look like gas stations can’t be entirely trusted. You have to peer inside first, just in case you’re bumbling into some modern art installation that everyone but you knows about it. (more…)

I’ve made pacts with the devil before. There was the pregnancy scare when I promised to never drink again so long as I got my period. And the one where I’d definitely never drink again so long as the room would stop spinning. And of course the one where Erik and I would never get it on in the parking garage at AOL UK again, so long as Tony the mailroom guy didn’t tell everyone what he saw. But this one was different. It didn’t involve alcohol. (more…)