Growing up in suburban Chicago, I didn't listen to country music. It was either my father's symphonic music on WFMT, or my mother's bobby-soxer/50s crooners, or local pop radio on the radio in my room. Occasionally, we'd click past HeeHaw on TV, but we never stayed to watch. I learned early that that wasn't *our*... Continue Reading →
Calm Sea
It will come as a surprise only to people who don't know him, but my husband Tim was hired shortly after putting out his resume. He found an employer that matches his conscientious work ethic, substantially increased Tim's annual salary, and is near enough to our home for Tim to ride his bike. Plus, Tim... Continue Reading →
Watching “Shrill”
Preparing to go out is a practice of expecting judgement--explicit or implicit--about my person. Once past the initial introduction, I am powerfully charming, capably playful, and intellectually stimulating. But the judgement phase comes first, and withstanding that onslaught while maintaining my natural effervescence is emotionally draining.
Socks and Sandals, or Things I Would Never Have Done When I Lived in the Midwest
My acrylic socks make my feet snug and happy inside my Keen sandals. When it rains later today, I'll change into waterproof shoes, but right now I'm enjoying the delicious embrace of webbed shoes. There's a bunch of stuff I have done in Oregon that I would never even have considered while living in the... Continue Reading →
Dear White Trash
Your ignorance coupled with your hatred has created a monster that shits and pukes on everything in its path, and the rest of the world -- the world that has chosen to learn and grow and listen to people who don't look like us -- are sick of cleaning up your mess.
Meg Currell 