I Hope To One Day Co-sign A

But Now My Problems Had Been Set Loose. They Could Be Anywhere At Any Time And I Was Just Like Everyone Else I Knew: Almost Positive That There Was Something Profoundly And Undiagnosably Wrong With Me.

For A Long Time I Wanted To Draw, But I Could Never Get The Proportions Right. My Still Life Sketches Were The Artistic Equivalent Of Someone Who Has Misjudged The Space Constraints Of A Postcard, The Handwriting Shrinking Uncomfortably At The Bottom.

You Feel Like Telling Him You're Not Single In The Way That He Thinks You're Single. After All, You Have Yourself. I Think A Lot Of Humor Is About Distracting Yourself. Pretend You're Not Trying To Make It Funny. Because For Some Reason The Effort To Be Funny Smells Like Sulphur In Our Culture.

He Also Tried To Block The Doorway When She Left Him. My Mother Ducked Under His Arm, Ran To Her Car, And Drove Away. I Remember Thinking That This Was Somehow Romantic, As It Pinpointed The Actual Memory Of My Mother's Departure, Something You Don't See A Lot Of In Television. Real People Don't Slam Doors Without Opening Them Five Minutes Later Because It's Raining And They Forgot Their Umbrella. They Don't Stop Dead In Their Tracks Because They Realize They're In Love With Their Best Friend.they Don't Say, "i'm Leaving You, Jack," And Fade To A Paper Towel Commercial.

Unless You Are A Professional, You Will Find The Tart To Be A High-maintenance, Unforgiving Whistle-blower Of A Pastry.