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I Told Myself, 'all I Want Is A Normal Life'. But Was That True? I Wasn't So Sure. Because There Was A Part Of Me That Enjoyed Hating School, And The Drama Of Not Going, The Potential Consequences Whatever They Were. I Was Intrigued By The Unknown. I Was Even Slightly Thrilled That My Mother Was Such A Mess. Had I Become Addicted To Crisis? I Traced My Finger Along The Windowsill. 'want Something Normal, Want Something Normal, Want Something Normal', I Told Myself.

-Augusten Burroughs

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I Told Myself, 'all

Augusten Burroughs

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I Told Myself, 'all I Want Is A Normal Life'. But Was That True? I Wasn't So Sure. Because There Was A Part Of Me That Enjoyed Hating School, And The Drama Of Not Going, The Potential Consequences Whatever They Were. I Was Intrigued By The Unknown. I Was Even Slightly Thrilled That My Mother Was Such A Mess. Had I Become Addicted To Crisis? I Traced My Finger Along The Windowsill. 'want Something Normal, Want Something Normal, Want Something Normal', I Told Myself.

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Nobody's Trying To Kill You, Deirdre. You're Killing Yourself.

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Saying Just The Right Thing After A Considerable, Awkward Pause Is Far Less Effective Than Saying The Wrong Thing With Perfect Timing. I'm Telling You.

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I Don't Worry About Anything In The Internet Age. I Have Been Online Since I Was Aware Of It: 1985 In San Francisco. It Has Changed Everything In My Life. I Would Not Want To Even Be Alive In An Era That Did Not Have It Because It Is Essential To Our Evolution As A Species.

I Don't Read Memoirs. But If You Write A Memoir, I Would Think You'd Want People To Know, "o.k., Look, I've Taken Some Liberties Here." It's Just A Matter Of Being Open With Your Readers.

I Love To Both Give And Receive Very Old Books.

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Perfection Is The Satin-lined Casket Of Creativity And Originality. If You Are A Perfectionist, At Least Stop Telling Everybody You're One And Try To Get Over It Yourself, Alone In Your Home With The Lights Off

The Reason I Know What We Are To Each Other Is Because We Fight Freely And Almost Constantly, About Even The Smallest Thing. In Fact, Once We Didn't Speak For An Entire Week Because He Didn't Like The Way I Loaded His Dishwasher...i Can't Decide If We're Exact Opposites, Or Somehow Exactly The Same Except For Minor Cosmetic Differences. I Do Know That All Of His Friends Hate Me And All Of My Friends Hate Him. We Drive Each Other Crazy In Ways That Nobody Else Can Even Touch. We Never Bore Each Other. And We Both Realize What A Rare Thing This Is.

My Attraction Had Been Immediate And Profound. And It Had Nothing To Do With The Way He Looked. My Attraction Was To What Resided Between His Lines.

I Realized I Could Really Become Hooked On These Happy Pills. They Gave Me A Glorious Feeling Of General Well-being And Didn't Make Me Fat, Like Alcohol. I Wondered If There Was Any Harm In Being Addicted To Only These.

...handsome People Are Always Interesting To Watch. But A Handsome Person In Crisis Is Riveting.

The Truth Is That Nobody Is Owed An Apology For Anything. Apologies Are Lovely When They Happen. But They Change Nothing. They Do Not Reverse Actions Or Correct Damage. They Are Merely Nice To Hear.

I Don't Sit Down At Nine In The Morning And Begin Writing And Then Take A Break For Lunch And Stop At Four. I Have No Structure Like That. I Am At My Computer Constantly, More Or Less Attached To It. I Live On-line And Hate Being Off-line And Don't Care How Unhealthy It Is.

This Is What Happens When You Go Against The Grain Of Truth. You Get Splinters Later On.

I Was Like A Packet Of Powdered Sea Monkeys And They Were Like Water.

You Deserve To Need Me, Not To Have Me.

Because I've Lived In One Room My Entire Life, Working At The Same Table That You Use To Pay Bills At And Eat At. It's Going To Be Nice To Have Actual Space.

While I Liked Hamsters, Too, The Habitrail Cage Was Expensive. Even I Could See That The Interconnecting Boxes, Tubes, And Spheres Could Easily Bankrupt A Family And Lead To Addiction Later In Life. Because, How Would You Know When To Stop? How Could You Stop? An Entire City Could Be Built With A Habitrail.

What Nobody Understood Then Is This: The Only Way That You Achieve What You Want And Fulfill Your Dreams And Become Great Is By Demanding That Sort Of Attention. You Have To Make It Happen.

I Saw A Monkey Walking On A Leash And Thought It Was An Ugly Foreign Child.

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What I Think Of Blogs Is Just This: Some Are Beautifully Written And Many Are Not. But Even Blogs That Aren't Necessarily "well" Written Are Great For The Person Writing Them.

I Thought, I Can't Do Advertising Any More, So I Was Downloading All These Pdf Applications From Community Colleges. And I Thought, I'll Become A Paramedic. I'll Get A Two-year Associate Degree, If I Can Get In.

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As A Young Child I Had Santa And Jesus All Mixed Up. I Could Identify Coke Or Pepsi With Just One Sip, But I Could Not Tell You For Sure Why They Strapped Santa To A Cross. Had He Missed A House? Had A Good Little Girl Somewhere In The World Not Received The Doll He'd Promised Her, Making The Father Angry?

In Order For Us [people] To Progress, We Need Brilliance And Brilliance Isn't Fair And It's Not Polite And We Can't Grow It. It Happens. Genius Happens And It Doesn't Always Happen In A Zip Code Where We Can Access It. Therefore, We Kind Of Need [internet] Not To Keep Tabs On Everybody But We Need To Give Them Access To Everybody Else.

My Parents Had This Relationship That Was Really Terrifying. I Mean, The Level Of Hatred That They Had, And The Level Of Physical Abuse - My Mother Would Beat Up My Father, Basically - And I Think I Was Drawn To Images On Television That Were Bright And Reflective.

Once I Decided To Write, To Be Published, I Knew It Would Happen.

It Terrified Me To Consider: What If, As A Grown-up, I Craved Another Body Beside Me As Still As This One? What Then?

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And In My Mind, This Settles The Issue. I Would Never Drink Cologne, And Am Therefore Not An Alcoholic.

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It's Weird - Sort Of Not Terribly Wise - To Take A Book That Was Successful And Then Change Its Cover.

Imperfections Are Attractive When Their Owners Are Happy With Them.

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If You Find You Require Willpower, You Aren't Ready To Lose Weight.

Everybody In Recovery Smokes. If You Don't Like Smoking, Don't Even Bother Trying To Get Sober. Just Stay Drunk.

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Smoking Had Become My Favorite Thing In The World To Do. It Was Like Having Instant Comfort, No Matter Where Or When.

After I Got My Coffee, I Leaned Against A Stop Sign And Sipped, Pretending It Was A Normal Day And I Was Only Up This Early So That I Could Go Running And Not Because I'd Just Been On A Killing Spree.

It Was Unnerving, The Way She Could Go From Cool Efficiency To Sarcastic To Sweet Within The Space Of Thirty Seconds. I Found It Very Manipulative And Controlling. It Put The Other Person Constantly On-guard. And It Was Extremely Intimidating Because You Never Knew When She Was Going To Snap. I Made A Mental Note To Refine These Skills Within Myself.

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Time Moves Only Forward, Never Back. We Look Forward To A Moment And Then It Arrives And An Instant Later It Is Gone. Like Something On The Surface Of A River That We Reached For But Did Not Touch In Time And It Carried On, Away. You Cannot Be A Prisoner Of Your Past Against Your Will. Because You Can Only Live In The Past Inside Your Mind.

If I Were A Serial Killer, I Would Not Be The Kind That Stabs And Then Eats The Victim. I Would Be The Kind That Hides In A Tree And Shoots At The Aerobics Class.

Throwing Things Horrified Me. I Suffered Extreme, Paralyzing Anxiety When It Came To Anything Remotely Athletic. I Wouldn't Even Run To Catch The School Bus Because I Knew I'd Trip And Then Get Teased For A Year.

To Me, These People Were As Exotic As Animals In A Zoo. I'd Never Seen Anything Like Them. I Wasn't Sure Whether I Wanted To Be One Of Them Or Simply Live Among Them Taking Notes And Photographs.

He Continues To Smile Expectantly. I Take A Step Back. I Don't Want To Catch Whatever He Has. He Is A Disturbing Out-of-uniform Santa.

I Myself Am Made Entirely Of Flaws, Stitched Together With Good Intentions.

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I Never Get Sick Of Writing My Own Stories Because There's A Certain Comfort In Knowing You Will Never Run Out Of Material. It's Relaxing, Actually, To Write.

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No Matter What I've Written, Someone Somewhere Has Come Up To Me And Said, "me Too." The Truth Can Be Offensive, But It's Always Nourishing, In A Way. You Recognize It. You Can Feel It. And Even If [readers] Think, "my God, I Would Never Get In Those Situations," Within Those Ridiculous Circumstances That I Have Created For Myself, They Know The Way I Respond Is Probably What They Would Do Too.

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When I Ate Vanilla Frosting Straight From The Can, I Could Feel God Standing Right Nest To Me Like A Real Best Friend, Watching, And Smiling, And Wishing He Had A Mouth.

But Even With My Minimal Amount Of Fame, There Are Certain Perks. Recently, I Was At A Movie Premier, And At The Party After The Movie, Meryl Streep Was Loose, Walking Around The Room Like A Normal Person. Absolutely Nothing Was Preventing Me From Lunging Toward Her And Shrieking "dingoes Ate My Baby! Dingoes Ate My Baby!

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I Once Read About A Guy Who Lost His Arms In A Fire. The Nurse Took Pity On Him And Gave Him A Hand Job. I Don't Even Get That.

Thanksgiving Was Nothing More Than A Pilgrim-created Obstacle In The Way Of Christmas; A Dead Bird In The Street That Forced A Brief Detour.

I Think That The Internet Is Our Most Profound And Beautiful Achievement. It Is Magnificent. We Have The Internet As A Layer Of Our Thinking That Doesn't Control Us, We Control It, Yet We Don't Have To Be Aware Of It. It Will Be Like A Suit That Really Fits Well.

I Think People Might Think, Oh, I Don't Want To Approach The Big Famous Author Because It's Embarrassing, But Then They Think For Two Seconds About It And Realize, This Is, Like, A Toilet Bowl Reader.

If You Believe Suicide Will Bring You Peace, Or At The Very Least Just An End To Everything You Hate- You Are Displaying Self-caring Behavior. You Are Still Able To Actively Seek Solutions To Your Problems. You Are Willing To Go To Great Lengths To Provide What You Believe Will Be Soothing To Yourself. This Strikes Me As Optimistic.

The Secret To Being A Writer Is That You Have To Write. It's Not Enough To Think About Writing Or To Study Literature Or Plan A Future Life As An Author. You Really Have To Lock Yourself Away, Alone, And Get To Work.

Sometimes When You Work In Advertising You'll Get A Product That's Really Garbage And You Have To Make It Seem Fantastic, Something That Is Essential To The Continued Quality Of Life.

There's Not Enough Of Me Left Over.

What I Really Want Is To Sit Next To Someone Under An L.l. Bean Blanket On The Beach In The Fall And Drink Coffee From The Same Mug. I Don't Want Some Rusty '73 Ford Pinto With A Factory-defective Gas Tank That Causes It To Explode When It's Rear-ended In The Parking Lot Of The Supermarket. So Why Do I Keep Looking For Pintos?

With My Own Memoirs, They Are Truthful, And I Write Everything Fully Expecting To Some Day End Up Televised On Court Tv, And I'm Fully Prepared To Be Challenged Legally On It. Everything I Write Is The Truth And I Know That I Would Win.

I Know Exactly How That Is. To Love Somebody Who Doesn't Deserve It.

Maybe It Was A Patty Hearst Thing. Stockholm Syndrome Or Whatever It's Called When You're Being Held Against Your Will But Then You Become Sucked In And Fall In Love. Or If Not Exactly Love, You Fall Into Something You Can't See Out Of. 'i Can't Shoot A Machine Gun' Becomes 'hey, This Hardly Has Any Kick-back!

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When People Meet Me, Many Times They're Very Surprised Because They Expect Someone Who Is Kind Of Wacky With Seven Piercings And Very Hip And Cool And New York City, And I'm Not.

Do Not Wait For The Healing To Arrive. It Will Never Come. The Holes Will Never Leave Or Be Filled With Anything At All. But Holes Are Interesting Things.

But I Am Not Here Ironically; I Am Here Sincerely.

No Matter How Huge Your Loss, As Long As You Remain Engaged With Your Life, The Best Days Of Your Life May Still Be Ahead Of You. Don't Misunderstand Me: The Pain Of Your Loss Will Remain With You For The Rest Of Your Life. But Great Joy Will Be There Right Beside It. Deep Sorrow And Deep Joy Can Exist Within You, Side By Side. At Every Moment. And It's Not Confusing. And It's Not A Conflict.

Even Painfully Shy And Awkward People Are Not Painfully Shy Or Awkward When They Are Alone. The Way To Access This Natural, Comfortable Alone-self When You Are With Others Is By Choosing To Forbid Yourself To Wonder What "they" Are Thinking. Instead, Force Yourself To Exist In The Instant, Then Take It- And Give It- As It Comes.

You Need To Grab Your Dream Out Of The Sky Like It's A Kite And Pinch The String Through Your Fingers Until You Reach The Spool.

I Hate Feelings. Why Does Sobriety Have To Come With Feelings?

Most Of Us Have Love In Our Lives. Most Of Us Love Other People Are Are Ourselves Loved By Others. But Make No Mistake: You Are Alone In The World. You Were Born Alone, Even If You Were Born Conjoined. And You Die Alone, Unable To Bring A Single Person With You.

Each Time My Mother Went Psychotic, I Hoped It Would Be The Last Time. Afterward She Would Tell Me, 'i Think That Was The Final Episode. I Think I Had A Breakthrough.' And I Would Believe-for A Few Months-that It Was True. That She Was Back To Stay. Maybe It Was Like Having A Rock Star Mother Who Was Always On The Road. Were There Benatar Children? Did They Sit Around And Wonder If Their Mom's Hell Is For Children Tour Was Going To Be Her Last Tour?

I Never Could Have Written The Screenplay Because I Would Have Been Forced To Learn New Software And I Can't Learn One More Thing.

I Wouldn't Want To Waste Any Of My Brain Cells On Forgiving If It's Holding Me Back.

I Couldn't Help But Think, This Car Is Taking Me To A Mental Hospital And My Mother Is Treating It Like Open-mic Night At A Greenwich Village Café.

Writing Has Enriched My Life In Ways I Never Imaged.

Red Hair Is Great. It's Rare, And Therefore Superior.

The Truth About Not Having Everything You Need, Not Being Fully Equipped Or Qualified Or Allowed Is That These Limits Are The Nebula Of Creative Genius. When You Have Total Freedom I.e: No Limits At All. You Stop Trying To Make The Best Of Things

Glen Had A Disability More Disfiguring Than A Burn And More Terrifying Than Cancer. Glen Had Been Born On The Day After Christmas. "my Parents Just Combine My Birthday With Christmas, That's All," He Explained. But We Knew This Was A Lie. Glen's Parents Just Wrapped A Couple Of His Christmas Presents In Birthday-themed Wrapping Paper, Stuck Some Candles In A Supermarket Cake, And Had A Dinner Of Christmas Leftovers.

I'm Like The Guy Who Prepares Your Taxes Or A Dentist. I'm Very Conservative And Boring In A Lot Of Ways.

I Never Listen To Music When I Write.

Listening To Music

Love Is A Helium-based Emotion; Love Always Takes The High Road.

Taking The High Road

I Can't Tell You How Much I Love Target And Costco, That Kind Of Culture, Because It's Something I Never Felt A Part Of. I've Always Felt Like A Tourist Because I Have Never Fit In Anywhere.

Life Would Be Fabric-softener, Tuna-salad-on-white, Pta-meeting Normal.

Marriage Is Overdone. As Long As There Are People, People Are Going To Find It Interesting.

When You Have Your Health, You Have Everything. When You Do Not Have Your Health, Nothing Else Matters At All.

The Only Other People Who Have Had Experiences Similar To Those Of This Man Were Locked Up Inside Institutions For The Criminally Insane. The Difference Is, This Guy Gets Business Cards.

Any Damage That's Been Done, You Have To Fix Yourself Because It Needs Fixing And There Is Nobody Else To Do The Work. Blame May Well Be Justified, But It's Not Going To Move You Forward In Your Life.

This Is How You Survive The Unsurvivable, This Is How You Lose That Which You Cannot Bear To Lose, This Is How You Reinvent Yourself, Overcome Your Abusers, Fulfill Your Ambitions And Meet The Love Of Your Life: By Following What Is True, No Matter Where It Leads You.

People Generally Like Happy Endings, Which Is Something I Learned From My Years In Advertising. I Like Happy Endings Myself, But Only If They're Honest. I'm Just As Happy With A Terrible, Hopeless Ending.

As A Writer, You Can't Allow Yourself The Luxury Of Being Discouraged And Giving Up When You Are Rejected, Either By Agents Or Publishers. You Absolutely Must Plow Forward.

I Remember, No Matter How Impossible It Seemed That Any Given Day Would End, It Always Did. This One Would, Too.

I Hate News And Information And Anything That Threatens To Puncture The Bubble Of Oblivion In Which I Live.

I Don't Believe In The Concept Of A Soul Mate. Because We Are All Unique, But We're Also Simply Too Similar.

The Line Between Normal And Crazy Seemed Impossibly Thin. A Person Would Have To Be An Expert Tightrope Walker In Order Not To Fall.

Like Every Child, I Adored Her. Until I Formed A Brain And Got To Know Her.

You Are Allowed To Be Alive. You Are Allowed To Be Somebody Different. You Are Allowed To Not Say Goodbye To Anybody Or Explain A Single Thing To Anyone, Ever.

I Was Struck With A Bolt Of Distilled Horror Like I Have Never Known Before. Far Worse Than Suddenly Finding Yourself Walking Through A Prison Cafeteria Wearing Daisy Duke Shorts And A Jane Fonda Headband.

Finding Yourself

Truthfulness Itself Is Almost Medication, Even When It’s Served Without Advice Or Insight.

You Have An Incredible Body." He Reaches Out To Touch My Stomach. I Feel No Pleasure In His Compliment Or His Touch, Only Impatience. This Is The Only Feeling. I Feel Like The Paper On Which My Mood Chart Is Printed.

And She's A Nurse. Do You Know How Hard Nursing School Is? It's Like Medical School. So She's Obviously Smart.

I Felt Deeply Tricked. Stunned. And Furious. I Also Felt My Default Emotion: Numbness.

Miracles Do Happen. You Must Believe This. No Matter What Else You Believe About Life, You Must Believe In Miracles.

I Sit There And Think How It Isn't Fair That I Can't Drink At All, Even A Little. I Realize I Have Crammed An Entire Lifetime Of Moderate Drinking Into A Decade Of Hard-core Drinking And That Is Why. I Blew My Wad.

The Most Valuable Moments And Experiences That Life Has To Offer Are Found Only Along Its Most Treacherous Paths.

If I Were Blind I'd Rather Have Another Blind Person Leading Me Around Because They Know What I'm Dealing With And They're Experiencing The Same Things.

And Of Course, The Answer Came To Me In The Same Way Jesus Comes To Those Who Drink In Trailers: As An Epiphany.

I Don't Really Think Of My Blog As A Real Blog. It's A Lame Blog. It's More Like My When-the-mood-strikes Update, Or Smoke Signal.

So We Can Be Filled With Holes And Loss And Wide Expanses Of Unhealed Geography - And We Can Also Be Excited By Life And In Love And Content At The Exact Same Moment.

Stars Should Not Be Seen Alone. That's Why There Are So Many. Two People Should Stand Together And Look At Them. One Person Alone Will Surely Miss The Good Ones.

Freshly Brainwashed From Rehab, I Carry The Bottle Into The Bathroom. I Hold It Up To The Light. See The Pretty Bottle? Isn't It Beautiful? Yes, It's Beautiful. I Unscrew The Cap And Pour It Into The Toilet. I Flush Twice. And Then I Think, Why Did I Flush Twice? The Answer, Is Of Course, Because I Truly Do Know Myself. I Cannot Be Sure I Won't Attempt To Drink From The Toilet, Like A Dog.

I'm Not Going To Waste My Energy Looking Into The Eyes Of Someone Like The Guy Who Blew My Legs Off Trying To Find A Way To Forgive Him For Doing Something That Horrible When There Are Way More Productive Ways I Could Be Spending My Life. You've Got To Focus On Moving On.

It Turned Out I Had Always Been A Smoker. I Just Hadn't Had Any Cigarettes.

In Some Ways, Blogging Is Like Drinking - It Gives A Person Permission To Be A Total Asshole.

There Is No Shame In Being Hungry For Another Person. There Is No Shame In Wanting Very Much To Share Your Life With Somebody.

A Lot Of Being A Writer Doesn't Have Anything To Do With Writing. It's Ironic - I Have To Squeeze The Books In, Even Though That's What It's All About.

Nothing Made Sense To Me Anymore. I Knew I Was Young, I Knew I Was Small. But I Was Worried That I Might Already Be Ruined.

What Police Officer Would Dare Ticket Death's Minivan?

I Felt A Bottomless Sadness. So Completely Alone. Like One Of My Stuffed Animals At Home That I Was Too Old For Now, That Sat On The Shelf In My Closet, Mashed Against The Back Wall.

Should I Just Sit Down, Right Here At Carousel Seven, And Shake Until Somebody's Arms Are Around Me And They're Saying, 'it's Okay, I'm Here, I'm Here, Come With Me To The Institute.

[christmas] Holidays Are A Heavy, Heavy Time. We Make Light Of Them With Our Red And Green And Our Stockings And Candy Canes, But People Think Heavy Thoughts Over The Holidays Because That's When You're Thinking About Family. Are We Close? Or Are We Not As Close As Other People?

His Laugh Is Made If Porch Swings And Lemonade

Applause Is A Constant Thing In Aa. It's How We Buy Drinks For Each Other.

Real Optimism Is Not The Pep Talk You Give Yourself. It Is Earned Through The Labor Involved In Emotional Housekeeping.

I Used To Feel So Alone In The City. All Those Gazillions Of People And Then Me, On The Outside. Because How Do You Meet A New Person? I Was Very Stunned By This For Many Years. And Then I Realized, You Just Say, "hi." They May Ignore You. Or You May Marry Them. And That Possibility Is Worth That One Word.

New York City Is A Place Where You Can Lock Yourself Up In Your Little Studio Apartment, And Not Go Outside At All, And Not Feel In The Slightest Guilty About It.

After Was Better. Before Was Only There So After Could Happen.

I Was Learning That If I Lived Slightly In The Future-what Will Happen Next-i Didn't Have To Feel So Much About What Was Going On In The Present.

You Cannot Be A Prisoner Of Your Past Against Your Will. Because You Can Only Live In The Past Inside Your Mind.

As A Child, I Was Never Drawn Toward Depraved Or Extreme Situations; I Really Wanted A Normal Little Childhood. Unfortunately, That's Just Not What Happened.

I Really Look At My Childhood As Being One Giant Rusty Tuna Can That I Continue To Recycle In Many Different Shapes.

Part Of Me Believes That Love Is More Valuable When You Have To Work For It.

My Only Ritual Is To Just Sit Down And Write, Write Every Day.

But I Can Also Write In Crappy Motel Rooms, While Standing In Line, Or Sitting In The Dentist's Chair.

I Feel Like They Are Two Different Things, And When I Write Books, They're Just Books. If They Can Be Movies That's Okay. But I Would Write A Novel That Couldn't Be A Film.

I'm Always Prepared For The Worst.

Our Lives Are One Endless Stretch Of Misery Punctuated By Processed Fast Foods And The Occasional Crisis Or Amusing Curiosity.

The Truth Is Humbling, Terrifying, And Often Exhilarating. It Blows The Doors Off The Hinges And Fills The World With Fresh Air.

You Manufacture Beauty With Your Mind

The Past Doesn't Haunt Us, We Haunt The Past.

My Mistake Was In Underestimating The Emotional Force Of A Song You Have Already Hear A Thousand Times.

I Tend To Really Enjoy Being Swept Up In Fiction. I Love A Good Story And I Admire Fiction Authors.

And I Hope She Does Not Live In A Dark World. Because Even The Most Terrible Loss Doesn't Have To Make You Darker; It Can Make You Deeper.

There's Never A False Note In A Berg Novel.

I Came To Think That Maybe God Was What You Believed In Because You Needed To Feel You Weren’t Alone. Maybe God Was Simply That Part Of Yourself That Was Always There And Always Strong, Even When You Were Not.

God, I Felt Certain, Did Not Mind That I Didn’t Press My Hands Together To Pray. I Was Casual, But I Was Sincere. I Knew That God Existed As The Correct Answer Inside My Chest.

My Mother Is From Cairo, Georgia. This Makes Everything She Says Sound Like It Went Through A Curling Iron.

Most Everybody Had Made At Least One Bad, Drunken Decision In Their Lives. Called An Ex At Two In The Morning. Or Perhaps Has A Little Too Much To Drink On A Second Date And Wept Inconsolably While Revealing How Simply Damaged One Was, While Nonetheless Retaining An Uncommonly Large Capacity For Love. That Kind Of Thing Was, While Regrettable, At Least Comprehensible. But Waking Up With Someone Generationally Inappropriate, Like Your Grandfather's Best Buddy?

Because Here Is The Truth: If You Want To Have A Chance At Meeting Somebody With Whom You Are Genuinely Compatible, Never Put Your Best Foot Forward.

We Haven't Slept Together. But We've Napped

My Brother Was Born Without Taste Or The Desire To Be Professionally Lit.

We Were Young. We Were Bored. And The Old Electroshock Therapy Machine Was Just Under The Stairs In A Box Next To The Hoover.

Acceptance, When It Comes, Arrives In Waves: Listen With Your Chest. You Will Feel A Pendulum Swing Within You, Favoring One Direction Or Another. And That Is Your Answer. The Answer Is Always Inside Your Chest. The Right Choice Weighs More. That's How You Know. It Causes You To Lean In Its Direction.

The Past Does Not Haunt Us. We Haunt The Past. We Allow Our Minds To Focus In That Direction. We Open Memories And Examine Them. We Reexperience Emotions We Felt During The Painful Events We Experienced Because We Are Recalling Them In As Much Detail As We Can.

I Think I Love Him, But I Also Think That You Can Love People Who Aren't Good For You.

The Most Mortifying Fact Of My Life Is Something That Happened When I Was Fourteen And I Have Never Admitted To Anyone: Not To Friends Nor Therapists; Not Even In Rehab When We Were Detailing Our Own Personal Spirals Of Shame Did I Confess. It Is This: I Am A Graduate Of The Barbizon School Of Modeling.

As I Sat In The Hot, Salty Water, I Thought, 'no Wonder Mr. Bubble Always Gives Me A Urinary Tract Infection And Hives.' Mr. Bubble Was For Common People. Mr. Bubble Was For My So-called Brother, Their True Child. I Was A Vanderbilt. I Should Bathe In Condiments And Seasonings.

It’s A Wonder I’m Even Alive. Sometimes I Think That. I Think That I Can’t Believe I Haven’t Killed Myself. But There’s Something In Me That Just Keeps Going On. I Think It Has Something To Do With Tomorrow, That There Is Always One, And That Everything Can Change When It Comes.

The Schnauzer Listens To Jazz. I Listen To Jazz Because He Likes It, And I Have Even Gone To Jazz Concerts With Him, But Truthfully I Would Rather Listen To Retarded Children Pounding On Pan Lids With Wooden Spoons.

Tracy, The Leader Of The Cdh Group, Looks At Me With Eyes That Seem To Belong To Someone Three Times Her Age. It's Something Beyond Wisdom, All The Way To Insanity And Back. It's Like Her Eyes Are Scarred From All The Things She's Seen.

In The Same Way That A Tornado Rips The Roof Off A Double-wide Trailer, Leaving The Occupants Dazed And Staring At The Clouds From The Splinters Of What Used To Be Their Living Room, It Was Over.

For Exactly The Same Reason, It Is Sometimes Satisfying To Cut Yourself And Bleed. On Those Gray [sic] Days Where Eight In The Morning Looks No Different From Noon And Nothing Has Happened And Nothing Is Going To Happen And You Are Washing A Glass In The Sink And It Breaks - Accidentally - And Punctures Your Skin. And Then There Is This Shocking Red, The Brightest Thing In The Day, So Vibrant It Buzzes, This Blood Of Yours. That Is Okay Sometimes Because At Least You Know You're Alive.

I Think Part Of The Reason I'm Attracted To Foster Is Because He's Such A Mess. I Mean, The People I Have Loved In My Life Have Never Been Easy To Love. I'm Not Used To Normal. I'm Used To Disaster. I Don't Know, As Messed Up As He Is, He's Also Sort Of Exciting, Sort Of A Challenge. I'm Accustomed To Working For Love.

I'm Grateful For A Lot Of Things. One Is Not Being A Drunk Wreck. Or Losing All Four Limbs In Some Ridiculous East Village Bus Accident That I Was So Destined For.

I Like, Though, That People Have A Hunger To Connect With Other People. They're Desperate To Know That You're Not Lying To Them Or Misleading Them.

The Problem With Not Having Anybody To Tell You What To Do, I Understood, Is That There Was Nobody To Tell You What Not To Do.

When I First Thought Of Being A Writer I Had Visions Of Stacks Of Books In Stores With My Name On Them, That Sort Of Thing. But I Never Imagined This Would Be The Reaction.

Bad News Should Be Followed With Soup. Then A Nap.

I Gazed Around The Room And My Eyes Stopped Dead On A Little Boy Standing In The Corner. This Was A Particularly Eerie Doll. Life-sized And Blond-haired And Blue-eyed. I Saw A Little Nazi Boy, Pockets Probably Stuffed With Scissors And Retractable Blades. My Grandfather On My Mother's Side Was Rumored To Be Half Jewish, Which Practically Makes Me Jerry Seinfeld's Brother, And Thus Wary Of Blond German Boys With Their Hands Out Of Sight.

Childhood Is What Ended Me Up In The Hospital And Teetering On The Edge Of Deathly Alcoholism. It Was Really Good For Me To Accept It. To Accept All The Embarrassment And The Shame So I Don't Feel Like I Used To.

(the New Boyfriend) Knows I Write Every Day For Hours But Has No Idea That All I’m Writing About Is Me. It Seems Wiser To Let Him Think I’m An Aspiring Novelist Instead Of Just An Alcoholic With A Year Of Sobriety Who Spends Eight Hours A Day Writing About The Other 16.

I've Overcome A Lot - Sexual Abuse, Death Of A Loved One, Bad Parents And Experienced Life. My Nature Is Such I Not Only Survived All This But I Have Thrived. I've Always Been Psychologically Ambitious In That I've Never Been Willing To Settle Emotionally For Anything Less Then What's Needed. I've Wanted More Then That From Life.

Death Of A Loved One

I Think People Tend To See The Bigger Point, Which Is Maybe Not Fitting In And Feeling Like You Didn't Have The Childhood That You Expected You Would Have, Or That You Felt Lonely Or Struggled With Drugs And Alcohol Or Just That You Were Able To Achieve Your Dreams.

He Was Raised Without A Proper Diagnosis.

You Must Never Allow Something That Happened To You To Become A Morbidly Treasured Heirloom That You Carry, Show People, Put Back In Its Black Velvet Pouch And Then Tuck Back Into Your Jacket Where You Can Keep It Close To Your Heart.

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