Around The Time I Turned 30, I

I Have One Vivid Memory Of One Of The Days That The Marches Were Taking Place. We Were In A Catholic, Predominantly Polish And Lithuanian Neighborhood. Chicago Is A Place Where People Define Themselves By Their Parish And By Their Ethnicity.

Hard To Remember Who Is More Dangerous: The People Who Are Attacking Our Liberties Overseas, Or Those Who Are Suppressing Them At Home.

It's Hard For Me To Believe That Just My Words On The Page Are Enough. I Ought To Be Out Physically Keeping Abortion Safe And Legal, Restoring The Fourth Amendment, Getting Clean Water Back Into Kentucky Since The Bush Administration Has Allowed Strip Miners To Fill It All Up With Slag. The List Is Endless. Bring It Down. Make It Small. Make It One Thing That You Can Do. It's Very Hard For Me To Remember That.

My Parents Were Liberal Intellectuals But Even They Expected Me To Stay At Home And Look After My Younger Siblings And Do The Housework.

I Wish I Could Remember Where I Put Things. I Spend Half My Life Looking For My Keys. With The Other Half I Look For My Glasses.