I Think Titles Are Tricky Because They're

All I Ever Really Want To Know Is How Other People Are Making It Through Life—where Do They Put Their Body, Hour By Hour, And How Do They Cope Inside Of It.

It Was A Real Whale, A Photograph Of A Real Whale. I Looked Into Its Tiny Wise Eye And Wondered Where That Eye Was Now. Was It Alive And Swimming, Or Had It Died Long Ago, Or Was It Dying Now, Right This Second? When A Whale Dies, It Falls Down Through The Ocean Slowly, Over The Course Of A Day. All The Other Fish See It Fall, Like A Giant Statue, Like A Building, But Slowly, Slowly.

I Had A Joint Once And I Didn't Feel Right For A Whole Year

I Wrestle My Fears With Every Big Decision I Make. Ultimately, Maybe All That Wrestling Does Is Make You Sick Of Your Own Thoughts, And So With Nothing Resolved You Just Go Ahead And Have Unprotected Sex. The Moment I Became Pregnant, Everything Became Out Of Gait. None Of Those Fears Seem Relevant In The Same Way, And That's So Like Life, That Once You Do The Daring Move You're In A Totally Different Landscape. Now It's A New Story.

Somewhat Predictably, I'm Much More Comfortable In Front Of An Audience - And A Big Audience Is Even Better - Than Faced With One Stranger. This Always Seems Like A Bit Of A Failing On My Part, As A Human. I Think That's Also Why I Put Myself Situations Where I'm Forced To Engage In Other Ways.