• Feeeeelings

    He’s Dead So I Can Say Whatever I Want About Him

    Do you ever come up with titles for your unwritten memoirs? The only reason I’m writing this post is because the title struck me as I was walking home. Its subtitle will be “And Other Pithy Essays About My Family.” It will be my second book – a slightly more sophisticated follow-up to the fresh voice readers fell in love with in my debut, It Starts and Ends in Barcelona: A Memoir of Grief and Travel. “Holliday’s work reads like Wild if Cheryl Strayed were snarkier and had a less interesting story to tell…” –New York Times Book Review I’m taking a writing class and today one of my classmates’…

  • Feeeeelings,  Meta-Blogging

    Let’s talk about my dead dad

    (Note: As the title would suggest, this post is not about travel, nor tea, but rather, my dead dad. If you’re interested, read on, but if you were looking for travel or tea, come back next week.) Tomorrow is Friday, June 14th. The two-year anniversary of my dad’s death. And this Sunday is father’s day, which is not a large, in-your-face holiday, but its closeness to my dad’s death feels a bit liked being kicked when I’m already down. It’s been a rough week. Every task has seemed wildly difficult, and I’ve been on edge. My mother and E have been patient while I’ve stormed around the house on the…