Every Saturday at this eerie liminal studio, while munching on a Costco poppyseed muffin, I watched the same movie on a portable DVD player (which I considered the height of modern technology). The movie, An Ordinary Miracle, is a Soviet fever-dream of a musical fairytale that—although also funny, light-hearted, and beautiful—probably contributed to the somewhat surreal experience of this space.
Looking for the perfect surrogate is almost like dating: you have to get on an app, find someone you connect with, and pray your priorities match up. Magnus and Peter hope their story can showcase a positive surrogacy experience. They know the process looks intimidating from the outside, and can be exhausting and expensive, so they want to offer their success as hopeful evidence for other queer parents-to-be.
So when I came home and saw him boiling store-brand frozen vegetables, my food writer/Jewish mother heart stopped. I jumped in, asking what he planned to do with them and why the hell he decided to boil them instead of doing anything—anything!—else. He said they still had a little while to go, but when I stuck my fork in the pot, it went straight through the sad, wispy little cauliflower. I didn’t want to be overbearing, informing him I thought they were definitely ready. Then, I watched him strain them into a bowl and tuck in. No salt, no sauce, nothing. Just plain old despair in a bowl.
There comes a time in everyone’s life when they might need a little help. For many women in New York, or with access to the internet, the person they turn to for that help is Amy Fraser. Her company, OKREAL, can best be described as “inspiration,” but...real. What started with Fraser publishing insightful, no-holds-barred, longform interviews with women, has since expanded to focus more on real life mentorship and events.
We’ve all seen the headlines, the grainy shaking videos of ashen children and crumbling buildings, and the political discussions and theories of blame. Syria is a hot topic on most news platforms, but the overabundance of information means we may all be too prone to think of the bloodshed in mass terms. People can become no more than numbers, converted into political capital by whoever is choosing to play with the biggest bombs that day.