"Dear Vegas, you suck.  Love, Balthazar."  Balthazar has checked into the United Club at Newark Liberty International.  I imagine him, young and single, hanging out in the first class lounge in a pair of Abercrombie jeans and vintage wash oxford, sipping a Bloody Mary, while I sit at my desk gulping coffee, in my yoga clothes, slightly damp from perspiration, seven a.m. on a Wednesday morning, while I enjoy a few last moments of quiet before the kids barrel down the stairs.  Balthazar's Facebook status stands out like a pearl among the suburban trifles in my newsfeed.  Recital photos, Pampered … Continue reading →