Meg Elison

Capulets and Montagues


Dear Megaphone, I’m an international student, and my parents had a short, weird talk with me before I left my country for school. They’re good people, but they told me very specifically about what race I could date. Specifically, they want me to date only someone from our own ethnic
Read More…


My gritty black cup of magic

Tales of Two Cities

I’m sitting on my friend’s couch on a Thursday night, trying to prep my brain for the pain it must soon go through; I am about to study Calculus II. But I can’t muster the energy to focus on any thought except one: I think I’m falling in love with
Read More…


Off the beat: The little thing about his color

It’s India, in summer 2010. My family and I get a respite from the intense heat and walk into a sari shop, where my mom wants to finish her shopping for the day. We sit down, the shopkeeper brings us various sodas and water. My mother, my brother and I
Read More…


Can’t buy me love

Broke in Berkeley

When I first met the guy I was going to marry, he told me he had a book called “Dating for Under a Dollar.” I didn’t believe him until he showed me. His parents had raised him in a lifestyle he cheerfully called “frugal” rather than “cheap.” Most of the
Read More…

Detour: Salting the Lily

To personify a nation’s cuisine, Danish food is incredibly humble. Criticized as the leftover scraps of a nation’s exports manufactured for the palette of a baby, the foundation of Danish cuisine rests on secondary meat products and pre-refrigeration preservation techniques, and has an extremely brief spice spectrum. The major flavors
Read More…

Detour: The Horror of Learning

My feeble yet ongoing attempts to learn Danish have been retarded by, as far as I can tell, two basic character flaws: poor hearing and excessive reliance on non-verbal cues. Perhaps it’s an attempt to save money by foregoing things like Q-tips, or deep cochlear damage thanks to that one
Read More…