Tag Archives: G Train

Ze, zir, zim: An Extended Metaphor

Transgender and genderfluid identities are quite outside my experience, actually, so are most queer identities, since my own questioning phase was more about where can I find handsome boys, which boy should I date, and why can’t I date all of … Continue reading

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Lucha Tigre

Lucha Tigre is a new Latin / Asian fusion eatery on Chapel Hill’s Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard*, tucked into the Foster’s/Flyleaf stripmall. (Well, I’m saying it’s new, because whenever I mention it, I’m told that it used to be … Continue reading

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Mandatory Subway Etiquette

Yahoo! Voices asked me to write about something I’d make mandatory in NYC besides food composting. I chose pushing onto the subway car before passengers have gotten off, because WOULDN’T THAT MAKE THE SUBWAYS BETTER FOR EVERYONE?!?! I’ve written about subway … Continue reading

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New, Long-Lasting Hold

When I first moved to New York (Well, I was actually moving to Scep and Katie’s study, but now that you know that all my exciting LA adventures involve me staying in the murder hotel, I guess “moving to my … Continue reading

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And This Is Crazy

Sometimes, Harold sings songs to me. My favourite is when he’s singing a Star Trek theme, and I almost recognize it and ask which one it is, and he sings the name of the show into the theme music.  (Actually, he started … Continue reading

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Kansas City

I was excited when Harold suggested a last-minute trip to Kansas City. Partly because I love when scheduled, steady Harold wants to do something spontaneous. (I don’t know how  manic pixie dream girls do it. I’m quirkily restless all the … Continue reading

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Working As Designed

For about a month now, I’ve been taking a game design class through General Assembly. There is so much to learn, many interesting readings, and discussions in response to the readings, and surprisingly complex class projects. We meet Wednesday nights … Continue reading

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Walking Back

Harold’s been offered a job out of NYC and we were at a coffeeshop midway between our apartments, talking about it — Oh, sorry! I might not have expressly stated that where Harold lives and works has a direct impact … Continue reading

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G Train

The G train into Manhattan one morning is unusually late and unusually crowded. At each stop, as person or two get off, and a dozen more try to get on, the conductor asks several times for passengers to get away … Continue reading

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G Train

I didn’t make this, I just wish I did.  (Thanks for showing me this, Bethie!)  

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