There’s No Such Thing as Race
As an adjunct professor of cultural anthropology, I’ve grown accustomed to my white students blaming their black classmates for their own failure to qualify for financial…
Above Average
The average American male, upon finding himself in the kitchen of a woman he’s just met on the morning after their second date, would probably skedaddle…
The 12 Hour Marathon Date
You know those people who go on first dates that last like for 12 hours? With men they meet on the internet? Those people confound me.…
The De-Stringing
So where were we? Right. The street corner, Starbucks in hand, him asking to see me again and me saying yes. The only problem is that…
Quite Possibly My Last First Date
As the bus crawls towards Rittenhouse, it dawns on me: this might possibly be my last first date. Not because of anything in particular in his…
The Story Begins
Okay, okay, I shall stop teasing you all. Here at last is the story of the flowers behind my front door, but we must start, as…
How to Love when you Hate to Fight
Right. So yesterday’s post? Feel, Felt, Found? I’m sure you felt like I was just putting you off, dragging things out for the sake of a…
Throwback Thursday: Feel, Felt, Found (or how to deal with difficult people)
I know, I know: you don’t care what books I’m reading. Or what my house looks like. Or how I feel about what my house looks…
Writing Wednesday: Middlesex after Midnight
I did not mean to suggest in Monday’s post the Middlesex is melodramatic. It is, but not in a bad way. It is a book that…
To Hell with Crate and Barrel
I have a confession to make: I am in love. Although it’s not what you think. Okay, it is what you think. But we’ll get to…
A Surprise Behind the Door
I suppose it’s time to tell you: I came back to my house yesterday—my house, the one with the thrice scrubbed floors that still feel and…
Of Magnets and Parmesan
This time around was easy: I mailed the book I’d borrowed from The European back to his house, pushed the magnets he’d given me to the…
Kat Echevarría Richter 