Nearly two weeks ago, I’d come out of a horrible fever, and Scotland had changed entirely. With my head no longer throbbing, I headed down to the city center for some fresh air with two of my flat mates....

The people I meet studying abroad come in many different servings. Some, in the infamous words of Patrick Bateman in “American Psycho,” are single-serving friends, whose paths cross mine only for a...

I pass at least four dead men on my way to class every morning, the number varying by the route I take. If I take the long way, looping around Edinburgh’s Royal Mile, past the spires of St. Giles’...

Halfway through the second act, amid the browbeating and emotional turmoil that comes with this kind of existential crisis, my gaze shifted to the ceiling. Hidden high above the stage lights, far from...

At home, on weekends, during snow days, or really whenever the mood strikes her, my mom will wake us up by singing. Some days she’s Glinda the Good Witch beckoning her munchkins to get up and “meet...

She said “I loved you like my favorite armchair” and the room fell silent. Her voice grew louder and louder and her pace quicker and quicker as if the words were burning inside her and she needed...

While writing this column, I’m currently sitting at the epicenter of an explosion of clothes in my childhood bedroom. The collage of photographs, magazine cut-outs and concert tickets plastering my walls,...