If I Can Just Stop Being So

I Have A Daughter Who, When Younger, Possessed No Barrier Between Her Emotional Self And The Outside World. Her Emotional Insides Spilled Out All Over, And, Especially When I Was Sleep-deprived And Probably A Little Paranoid, This Really Threatened Me. It Was As If She Were Embodying And Expressing The Insecurities And Freaked-outedness I Never Express, And Which I've Learned Over The Years To Keep Hidden.

As A Writer, You Want To Go Somewhere Else Sometimes. You Want To Vary The Terrain That You're Exploring.

My Husband Is Always Accusing Me Of Being A Context-free Individual. He Asks Something And He Has No Idea Where It Came From Or What It Related To. I Have To Supply Him With Way More Supplementary Information Than I Ever Have To Supply My Female Friends.

If, At Some Future Point, My Face Collapses Around My Eyes, I'd Probably Do Something About It. My Eyes Are Where I Live, And If People Couldn't See Them, No One Would Know Me.

When I Was Writing My First Draft, And Feeling Grandiose, I E-mailed An Artist/clothing Designer I Know And Suggested We Collaborate On A Fashion Line Inspired By The Outfits My Characters Wore. I Regret That We Never Did That.