riding through the streets of montreal, on a borrowed bicycle with scary drop handlebars, i asked amber if i’d have to pay for the hospital if i got hit here. she said no. i followed her hot pink head through the city, thinking about how every time i ride my bike, in the back of my head there’s a little voice saying, “if you get hit it’s gonna cost you!” and it’s true. $15,000 to $100,000 or maybe more. for a moment of carelessness. oh, these burdens we carry. sometimes you don’t even notice them, until they’re gone.
montreal was lots of fun! lots of hanging out by the river, riding bikes, and eating free food with nice people. lots of talks with a certain canadian-telemarketer-turned-research-subject-turned-popular-tumblr-er about writing and heartbreak, about publishing and living. it’s always nice getting away, always a ton of realizations.
i finally thought of a title for my genderqueer-love-memoir! on the bus to montreal. it’s gonna be called The Wrong Universe (to be explained in the book, duh, but the short version is: i could conceivably be called transgendered, but i don’t want to modify my body at all, because i firmly believe that i’m not in the wrong body but the wrong universe). so, yay! that’s one thing out of the way.
i have more to say but no time to say it. short version: super sad and stressed about leaving everyone i love who is east of the mississippi. super sad about leaving my whole life. even though i know i gotta. it’s still hard.