in which I don’t go bogging and regret it

When I was in elementary school I attended Girl Scout camp one summer and completely hated it. I was an introverted homebody as a kid and not designed for the instant kumbaya-style friendships that Hayley Mills movies train camp-goers to expect. The end of the summer found me not crying and swapping homemade lanyards with […]

in which I talk about pony poop

It took me two tries to get into graduate school. Year One was a wash, ending in an offer with no money to an institution in a city I couldn’t afford to live in — and an admit to the MA program, not the PhD program to which I’d applied. Year Two involved an awkward […]