There is something about Italy that makes me more conservative. After arriving yesterday, for instance, I donned a long flowing skirt and body concealing t-shirt before heading over to Santa Maria Maggiore to attend mass. Since I was raised Catholic, I joined right in with the genuflecting and self crossing. Continue reading
‘You are a shitty girlfriend,’ declares my partner. I can hardly disagree. After returning from a week-long research trip to England, I have explained that I will shortly depart for another conference and then leave again for six weeks of teaching in Europe. ‘I hope you will still make the bed and clean the bathroom when I am away,’ I say wistfully, knowing that my house will soon be covered in man arm-hair and tiny cat litter crystals. Still, he does not merit such neglect. Openly admitting that I deserve punishment, I suggest the following: ‘Why don’t you recite all of the things that suck about me? I promise to listen silently for ten minutes.’ In a surprising move, my partner declines this offer, noting his well honed will to survive.
My soon-to-be-lonely fur-bearing roommates. At least they have each other.
I know damned well what would cure this jet lag, I think while sitting in a cramped dorm room on the Royal Holloway campus, some 19 kilometres west of London: a good workout. It is midnight and I have suddenly woken up from a gravol-induced sleep, busying myself by sorting receipts and writing this post. I decide to do back, bis, and some cardio at the university sports centre tomorrow afternoon, Continue reading
The scene is domestic. One woman kneels beside a cauldron of boiling water, ready to scrub linen, while another towers over her, offering advice. Other references to housework include a shaken mat hanging on a wooden fence in the middleground, and the water faucet, bucket, and bristly broom occupying the right foreground. Continue reading
While I sweat into a hoodie that protects my delicate lady shoulders from the heavy hack squat machine, PDDs announces: ‘I am going to start having nightmares after watching The Walking Dead series that you recommended.’ ‘Raaah!’ I respond, grunting out my last rep. Stepping off the platform, I remark: ‘Oh I am already having them. Last night I dreamt that my neighbour was hanging from a noose inside the communal laundry room. I screamed for help and tried to support his legs, but then I considered that those vulnerable appendages might taste quite delicious, like chicken.’ PDDs nods and continues: ‘I thought it was terrible when the guy who is kind of cute but has a big nose shot that fat guy in the leg, just to save himself. I don’t think I could ever do that, no matter what the situation.’ ‘I would do that,’ I flatly declare, Continue reading
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