[Content warning: suicide] I have had a blog post draft that I have been avoiding since last fall. I remember opening and closing it a few times back then, trying to put into words how I felt after losing a friend in mid-October. It is not the first or only time in recent memory that… Continue reading I don’t know what to title this
Category: Personal Narrative
Job hunting real talk: second edition
At the beginning of 2015, I posted a roundup of all the job applications I sent out and the responses I received. Several friends responded in person that it was helpful for them to see my ratios of applications to interviews to offers. As I noted in my previous post, when you're in the midst of… Continue reading Job hunting real talk: second edition
Reading Terminal Market gothic
[Originally posted on Trimmings, my now-abandoned Tumblr blog.] There are maps, but it’s still easy to lose yourself: you pass the honey seller, the flower seller, the baker, the fishmonger, and there is such a riot of smells and colors that it’s no use remembering which way you came. There are shops in the center… Continue reading Reading Terminal Market gothic
Circles and Traces
For a side project, I've been scouring over the notes and bibliographies of books I haven't read in some years. For example: Cooking, Eating, Thinking, an anthology of philosophical approaches to food studies which I came across early in my research and haven't revisited since, though I thought it was a solid collection. As I… Continue reading Circles and Traces
Where did we come from? What are we? Where are we going?
Ten years ago, I conducted ghost tours in New Orleans. This era of my life has become one of my party tricks, an ace tucked in the sleeve: the job title itself is an attention grabber, but with it comes a cast of colorful characters, a louche lifestyle, and a sort of appealing tenebrousness that… Continue reading Where did we come from? What are we? Where are we going?
On not caring if you like it
This afternoon, I visited a building across campus for a lunchtime meeting. It's not a familiar place, so I don't have a sense of who comes and goes during the day, but just then the lobby was fairly deserted. Even the security guard was away from his desk; in fact, he'd taken the elevator to another floor just… Continue reading On not caring if you like it
Sara Davis 