I Can't See The Forest Through The

Since Graduation, I Have Measured Time In 4-by-5-inch Pieces Of Paper, Four Days On The Left And Three On The Right. Every Social Engagement, Interview, Reading, Flight, Doctor's Appointment, Birthday And Dry-cleaning Reminder Has Been Handwritten Between Metal Loops.

I Was Pretty Dorky, But There Are Tiers Of Dorkdom And I Always Had Friends, Though They Were Equally Dorky. I Was One Of Those Kids Who Contracted Cooties In The Second Grade And Then Had Cooties, Because There Wasn't A Vaccine For It. When I Was Around People, Though, I Generally Wanted To Make Them Laugh. I Told A Lot Of Stories.

I Don't Understand How You Can Be A Decent Writer And Not Know People.

Picture It In Your Mind's Nostril: You Get In A Cab In Time To Catch Twin Thugs Named Vomit And Cologne Assaulting A Defenseless Pine-tree Air Freshener.

The World I Describe Is About How People Live Now. It's Not About Zany People With Unlimited, Inexplicable Funds In An Apartment Somewhere.