Three months ago, I decided to move back to the States. Two months ago, I decided to move back to DC. And shortly after that, I decided, hey, why not, I’ll just be a professional baker now. Which is how, one month ago now, I have come to be living on my friend Pats’ couch, conveniently located four blocks from the job I have to start at 3:30am every morning.
A couple weeks back, I wrote a post for Forever Young Adult about the Fun Home controversy at the College of Charleston. In it, I illustrated some legislative transcripts from my home state, depicting a very few of the many appalling statements College of Charleston Trustees made while up for (re)appointment to the Board. If you haven’t already seen it, I would strongly encourage you to read my whole post. Not only will this gratify my own vanity, but it’s also a horrifying look into South Carolina politics. Plus, Fun Home is one of my favorite books, so EVERYONE SHOULD GO BUY A COPY, NOW.
A few weeks ago, I was talking with a good friend who is also a trauma survivor and has grown to hate the ubiquity that is trigger warnings. My own feelings on such disclaimers are very ambivalent at the moment, but I guess all I’m trying to say is: this piece is going to go to some very dark places, but I promise we’ll come out the other end ok. Consider yourself warned.
Yesterday, I celebrated my 27th birthday, or rather, my last day of being 26, by walking along the Fife Coastal Path between St Andrews and Kingsbarns. The Coastal Path is a 117-mile stretch of trail that runs along the edge of Fife, roughly between Edinburgh and Dundee. It is my favorite thing about living here. I took my sister and brother-in-law there last July, and I remember my sister saying, “anywhere you live after this is going to be incredibly disappointing in comparison.” She is not wrong. I would run along the path in spring and summer, and I used to do eight to ten mile walks along it with a group of friends from my graduate program. We’d take the bus to our starting point and make our way along the coast to the next town. I’d bring scones, and we’d stop often to lay in the sun or watch dolphins and seals in the sea. After one trip, I badly Photoshopped some dolphins (and myself) into a group picture. Hilariously, some people on Facebook thought it was real.
Just a typical evening at the pub.
Following my post on Thursday, I’ve a had a modest but nonetheless steady stream of traffic to this site. It mostly seemed to be coming from within the Wellesley community, so I was a little surprised when my mom sent me a link to a PBS article in which I am quoted. It’s a short piece without any particularly new or noteworthy information, and for whatever reason, the author only included my quote from the side that’s trying to get the sculpture moved inside.