Apparently, it’s not the fact that the unemployment rate for black college graduates is twice as high as the unemployment rate for white grads. Black college graduates are paid 80 cents for every dollar a white person with the same education earns. White people leave college with lower debt and higher earnings.

“ In the past few years, the concept of emotional labor has gone mainstream on social media and in articles that revive and expand the idea, with the term moving out of the workplace and insidiously into our homes.”

Yes, that sometimes happens with words in a language. A word that started with a particular definition…

hot take

We lived in Scales House, in the Quad. This all happened on the 4th floor of that dorm, where there are only six rooms. It was my senior years. The housing arrangement was perfect because I had exactly five close friends and we all lived together in this pretty private section of the house that was only accessible…

Amazing! I lived in Morris House my first year (2nd floor, one of the beautiful fireplace rooms). I didn’t experience anything ghostly, but I do agree that portions of the house are a bit creepy, especially the old dining room and the guest bedroom area.    I also lived in Tyler and finally Scales.   Smith is the best!

Yeah, it seems weird to treat his relationship to Dylan as nearly an aside.

This is a winner! Smith College (totally fine if you don’t want to give it away)?

I also get annoyed anytime Mayor Pete talks about “people in the Midwest” like like the Midwest is a monolith or like Elizabeth Warren can’t grasp the Midwest. He uses “the Midwest” as a code word for conservative, rural, working class, etc. in an attempt to paint Warren as an out-of-touch East Coast liberal. Well,…

I made this account to say this because I am positively freaking out reading this. I went to a women’s college whose housing system is the same and my friends and I experienced pretty much exactly this in our dorm there. Like, this literally reads exactly like what we all felt/saw there, the only difference being that…

At my Mom’s house, there is this shed that her father built a long time ago. We never really used it growing up, and it’s gone to waste really. My Mom just keeps gardening stuff in there now, and the lawnmower.
My sister and I were staying there at Christmas, and one night I had this really weird dream about the shed.…

Yay! My favourite time of year. I’ve been devouring these stories for the past five years, but this is my first time sharing one of my own. This happened to my mum, not to me, but I’ve heard it so many times I feel like I was there. My mum swears this is absolutely true. I should note she was devoutly Catholic at the…

The TV Standoff

I think I might have written this before, but I can’t find it in my post history! My dad’s dad owned a grocery store in Southern Ontario. This was back in the 60’s & 70’s – a little corner grocery with five shopping carts that were on the cutting edge of the grocery store experience at the time.

I lived in this tiny patchwork cottage in Sacramento for a few years. The front bedroom, livingroom, and kitchen were all originally built over 100 years ago. In the expansive backyard, planks of wood covered the now defunct outhouse hole— it was that old. My bedroom and attached half bathroom were at the back of the…

*cracks knuckles* I have a few stories to share so sit tight!

Apologies in advance for the length. This story happened about 6 months ago, and I’ve gone back and forth on whether I should even post it. Last April, I decided to take advantage of one of the last cool evenings of the year and go for a walk while my husband waited for our food to arrive (we relied heavily…

I spontaneously posted this last year, but am sharing again because the guy whom it’s about would kind of love that I’m doing it.

When I was 15, I got a job at Wendy’s. The usual, kind of shitty but mundane fast food job, where you work your way up from cleaning restrooms to tables to restocking the salad bar and the Frosty machine, until finally you get to either flip burgers or take orders. I wasn’t technically old enough to flip burgers (you…

I hope I’m not too late, or too gray! But anyway here is my spoooookkkkyyyyy story.

Our house is probably haunted. We don’t talk about it often because my husband and I share the philosophy that the more attention you give to something the more energy and power you give it. If we spent a lot of time thinking about how haunted the house might be, we would probably see more evidence because we’d…