Salty observations about life, love, and living abroad
Like many expat kids, my boys attend an international school. And while it has rubrics and complicated assessments instead of grades and smart boards instead of chalk, it is a school in the most traditional sense. There are students and teachers and classrooms. There are principals and secretaries and forms. There are discordant recorder sounds... Continue Reading →
When you live abroad and someone on the other side of the world is gravely ill or passes away, normal rules don't apply. No one pops round with a tuna casserole to help the family out. There is no Shiva sitting or sympathy cards with the promise of masses held on the behalf of the deceased.... Continue Reading →
I held in my hand ticket number 559. From what I can tell, it's possible the Danes are the world's biggest fans of the numbered ticket system. To Americans like me, the system is reminiscent of ordering sliced cheese and maple glazed ham at the deli counter or renewing your driver's license at the Department... Continue Reading →
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. A friend's recent blog post got me thinking about the concept of home, particularly about how it relates to those of us throwing darts at a map to see where we shall be living next. The ex-pat life is one of extremes and contradictions. On... Continue Reading →
Writer, Feminist, Expat
I'm a mom. I'm political. Give me coffee or give me death.
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What you need to know about roofing
a performative documentary project based on letters to the editor of Ms., 1972-1980
Predominately Books But Other Stuff Too
Seeking to read the pages of Earth's Book.
