ETA: Trigger warning for sexual assault/rape.
Dear Davis Museum and Cultural Center,
You probably don’t remember me, but I worked for you during my time at Wellesley. I was in the technology department, if you can call one full-time employee and a work-study student a department. The bulk of my job consisted of a) importing digital photographs of artwork into your new database and b) updating your website, particularly whenever there was a new exhibition on. Because of these two activities, I am extensively acquainted with the vast majority of your 10,000+ works collection, and I am also pretty familiar with special exhibits you put on between 2005 and 2009. I remember some of these being more controversial than others—for instance, your “On The Edge” exhibit definitely sparked conversations around campus when you decided to advertise by sticking postcards of this guy in every mailbox:
Continue reading An open letter to Wellesley College’s Art Museum
Last week, when I was chatting with E and F about life, they made a confession of tragic proportions. Apparently, back in February, they sent me a birthday present by way of USPS. Unfortunately, two months passed, my birthday came and went, and no package arrived. I checked with the friendly Scottish man who trades in parcels at my apartment complex, but he had no trace of it either.
En route to moving to Scotland, I spent a couple weeks at my parents’ house. Most of what I remember from that trip was a very alarming meltdown my last night in town (I couldn’t fit everything into my suitcases). The rest of my visit was pretty uneventful. I grew up in a town where you have to drive everywhere, but I essentially haven’t driven a car in in the past five years. When my parents replaced their automatic with a stick shift, I defaulted back to my fifteen-year-old self, waiting for an adult to ferry me about town.
Continue reading ‘Cause I’m Looking Through The Yearbook, And I Just Can’t Find Your Face
So yeah, I lied. What can I say? I’m very busy and important. The once a week thing was super unrealistic. The only way I could actually accomplish that is to relinquish my paltry remaining social life. Not only am I unwilling to do that, it would be counterproductive as I’d have nothing left to blog about.
Continue reading Happy Easter!
Yesterday, the pope put in his two weeks notice. Despite my uncharacteristically Baptist love of Lent, I am not Catholic, have never been Catholic, and do not plan to become Catholic anytime soon. But pope-deaths (or in this case, resignations), will always have a special place in my heart. Pope-deaths will forever remind me of the first time I got drunk.
Continue reading And It Was Fun, Fun, Fun, When We Were Drinking…