{superlefty}

Reading Hemingway on BART on the way to jetBlue Flight 644

I had skipped ahead to the end of the Hemingway novel and knew it was sad. The soldier’s lover hemorrhaged after their baby was born dead. I read slowly from the middle after that, dreading the ending. But now on the train to the airport I was close to the end. The soldier and his […]

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Absinthe and Ecstasy, Hummus and Hemingway

Sometimes it seems as if I am the only person I know who is neither in grad school nor a rock and roll band, who has never been to grad school nor in a rock and roll band. Even my mom is in grad school. Even the ten-year-old I tutor is in a rock and […]

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