The Hardest Thing Is Spending Twelve Hours

The Search For One's First Professional Job Is Not Unlike A Magical Love Potion: When One Wants To Fall In Love With The Next Thing One Sees, One Generally Does.

I Write On Weekends, On Vacation, And, Really - On Deadline And On My Floor. Both Terrible For The Back.

I Have Definitely Had Experiences Where I Can Feel The Shift From Simply Living My Life To Being Slightly Outside Of My Life And Taking Notes.

I Never Asked My Mother Where Babies Came From But I Remember Clearly The Day She Volunteered The Information....my Mother Called Me To Set The Table For Dinner. She Sat Me Down In The Kitchen, And Under The Classic Caveat Of 'loving Each Other Very, Very Much,' Explained That When A Man And A Woman Hug Tightly, The Man Plants A Seed In The Woman. The Seed Grows Into A Baby. Then She Sent Me To The Pantry To Get Placemats. As A Direct Result Of This Conversation, I Wouldn't Hug My Father For Two Months.

I Thought Of A High School Report I Did On The Belgian Artist Rene Magritte And A Quote I Once Read From Him, Something About His Favorite Walk Being The One He Took Around His Own Bedroom. He Said That He Never Understood The Need For People To Travel Because All The Poetry And Perspective You're Ever Going To Get You Already Posses. Anais Nin Had The Same Idea. We See The World As We Are. So If It's The Same Brain We Bring With Us Every Time We Open Our Eyes, What's The Difference If We're Looking At An Island Cove Or A Pocket Watch?