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My Most Recent Posts


Not knowing what's going on

I May Speak French But I’ll Never Speak Scottish

A demonstration of the importance of local lingo: Scottish Man: Show me your puppies. Me: Well, okay… Flips through photos of my adorable puppies.   Me: Aren’t they cute? Scottish Man: Rolls eyes and laughs.  Your dogs are cute but I meant your boobs. Why didn’t anyone tell me that puppies means boobs?  So this…

paris sunset

Why I’ll Always Return to Paris

You can never return to another time in your life.  Not the way you imagined it, not the way you hoped.  Most of you probably have memories in which you were a different person, living a life unrecognizable from your current path. It’s not bad, it’s not good, it just is, and I believe our…

drinks - Leeds

But actually, what are you doing with your life?

I’m traveling! And writing!  Right, so, that actually wasn’t much of a surprise. Proclaiming it feels a little different this time, though.  I’ve always inexplicably understood that I need to write, and I need to see the world – discover new places, taste new foods, watch Turkey disappear from the tenuous confines of a hot…


Leaving A Place You Love Behind

I didn’t cry when I left Scotland. That may not sound like an accomplishment to you, but given the fact that I cried while watching an old episode of One Tree Hill the other night (don’t judge me), I was shocked at my own unemotional goodbye. When I left Paris, my former home, I sniffled…

elephant house

Chasing Stories in Edinburgh

If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m kind of in love with books.  I will be the first person to tell you that you can appreciate the wonderment of stories without leaving your bed, couch, or if you’re lucky, window seat.  The worlds of Harry Potter and Wuthering Heights can materialize before your eyes no…


Edinburgh’s Secret Gardens

It was on Edinburgh’s Royal Mile when I discovered my very first secret garden. I’ve always dreamt of my own secret garden.  Of a hidden place among the roses and lavender, where I could lay in the sun like an overgrown cat. Perhaps it’s the innocuous nature of a garden.  Secret passageways, secret codes, secret…


The Road isn’t Always as it Seems

Not all roads lead to the funeral home. Last week I wrote about Scottish roads, and their correlation with the highs and lows of life.  Just a few days later, my family and I drove to an overwhelming church for an overwhelming funeral. As we jostled along towards the Milwaukee Marquette Campus, I closed my…

Scottish Roads

Scottish Roads – the highs and lows of life

In loving memory of Marc Marotta When I close my eyes and imagine Scotland, I remember the weathered roads.  I remember sitting in a car, listening to the surrounding Scottish winds.  I remember passing in and out of sunlit rain showers, eyes wide open, seeing and feeling every ounce of every minute. I remember stumbling…

st andrews

To the Sea

I wanted to feel the winds of the sea.  Ever since catching a glimpse of the North Sea atop Arthur’s Seat, I’ve needed to feel the salty air soak into my skin.  Even if that meant freezing my fingers and toes on the coast of St. Andrews. But I didn’t care where I ended up. …

camera photo

An Open Letter To The People I’ve Met While Traveling

Dear People I’ve Met While Traveling, Just this morning, I glanced up from my laptop as a couple sauntered into my little cafe.  They spoke in languid Italian as the couple beside me labored on in stilted English-German / Englerman. Scottish burrs and English lilts, pops of French and Polish, German, Japanese – it’s my…

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