You Know How A Lot Of People

Every Summer My Husband And I Pack Our Suitcases, Load Our Kids Into The Car, And Drive From Tense, Crowded New York City To My Family's Cottage In Maine. It's On An Island, With Stretches Of Sea And Sandy Beaches, Rocky Coasts, And Pine Trees. We Barbecue, Swim, Lie Around, And Try To Do Nothing.

I'm Usually Called Upon To Play The Dreary Suicidal Girl.

I've Seen A Lot Of The United States, Having Stayed In So Many Different Cities And Towns For Work. It's Such A Strange And Fascinating Country, And Instead Of Learning About It Through A Textbook, I Would Rather Discover Its History And Traditions And Institutions Through Fiction And Nonfiction Writers.

You Know What I Have Noticed? And This Is Really Sad. Flying First Class Is Less Scary Than Flying Coach. They Speak To You And They're So Nice To You And They Want To Help You And They Know You Want A Drink Before The Plane Takes Off. And They Bring It To You Without Asking. If You're Sitting In Coach And Hoping For A Drink, Good Luck.

I Always Step On The Plane With My Right Foot And Touch The Outside Of The Plane With My Left Hand. Sometimes You Know There's Someone Standing There To Welcome You To The Plane And I Have To Kind Of Get Them To Move A Little Bit So I Can Put My Hand On The Outside Of The Plane. It's Not A Natural Thing To Be Up In The Sky In A Little Metal Tube.