I’m probably just as good a mother as the next repressed, obsessive-compulsive paranoiac.

Life is really pretty tricky, and there's a lot of loss, and the longer you stay alive, the more people you lose whom you actually couldn't live without.

Writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises.

The Giants are usually described as rag tag, kind of a great garage sale team, and the Democrats are described as the Mommies to the Republican Daddies; and everyone hates the mommies, but wait, wait - I didn't intend to get into the pathos and thrill of being a Democratic Giants fan.

There's a lovely Hasidic story of a rabbi who always told his people that if they studied the Torah, it would put Scripture on their hearts. One of them asked, "Why on our hearts, and not in them?" The rabbi answered, "Only God can put Scripture inside. But reading sacred text can put it on your heart, and then when your hearts break, the holy words will fall inside.

Looking back on the God my friend believed in, he seems a little erratic, not entirely unlike her father - God as borderline personality.

I worry that Jesus drinks himself to sleep when he hears me talk like this.