Now If You Went To Someone's House

Mine's [fans] A Lot Of Like Weird Guys In Prison. So I Don't Need To Answer Them.

Let's Be Reasonable And Add An Eighth Day To The Week That Is Devoted Exclusively To Reading.

I Shared A Bed With My Sister, Grace, Until I Was Seventeen Years Old. She Was Afraid To Sleep Alone And Would Begin Asking Me Around 5:00 P.m. Every Day Whether She Could Sleep With Me. I Put On A Big Show Of Saying No, Taking Pleasure In Watching Her Beg And Sulk, But Eventually I Always Relented. Her Sticky, Muscly Little Body Thrashed Beside Me Every Night As I Read Anne Sexton, Watched Reruns Of Snl, Sometimes Even As I Slipped My Hand Into My Underwear To Figure Some Stuff Out.

It's Interesting How We Often Can't See The Ways In Which We Are Being Strong - Like, You Can't Be Aware Of What You're Doing That's Tough And Brave At The Time That You're Doing It Because If You Knew That It Was Brave, Then You'd Be Scared.

I'm Always Afraid That I'm Being Unprofessional, Yet I Continue To Sign All My E-mails 'xoxo.'