Life's Too Short To Worry About The

But I'd Long Ago Learned Not To Be Picky In Farewells. They Weren't Guaranteed Or Promised. You Were Lucky, More Than Blessed, If You Got A Good-bye At All.

Why Does She Have Wings?' So She Can Fly.

I Hated High School. I Was Not The Greatest Student, Participated In No Activities, And Spent Most Of My Time Hanging Out In My Parking Lot.

I Mean, It's Impossible To Fake Anything If You've Already Seen The Other Person In A Way They'd Never Choose For You To. You Can't Go Back From That.

Now, Now," My Father Said. "let's Just Get The Bags." This Was Typical. My Father, The Lone Male In Our Estrogen-heavy Household, Had Always Dealt With Any Kind Of Emotional Situation Or Conflict By Doing Something Concrete And Specific. Discussion Of Cramps And Heavy Flow At The Breakfast Table? He Was Up And Out The Door To Change Oil On One Of Our Cars. Coming Home In Tears For Reasons You Just Didn't Want To Discuss? He'd Go Make You A Grilled Cheese, Which He'd Probably End Up Eating. Family Crisis Brewing In A Public Place? Bags. Get The Bags.