I had grown up as a fan of Studs Terkel. In Chicago he sort of looms large and is mentioned often.

When there is pleasure, there is often abandon, and mistakes are made.

My mind, I know, I can prove, hovers on hummingbird wings. It hovers and it churns. And when it's operating at full thrust, the churning does not stop. The machines do not rest, the systems rarely cool. And while I can forget anything of any importance--this is why people tell me secrets--my mind has an uncanny knack for organization when it comes to pain. Nothing tormenting is ever lost, never even diminished in color or intensity or quality of sound.

It all meant something. Until it didn't.

I've never had WiFi at home. I'm too easily distracted, and YouTube is too tempting.

Loneliness is just a thing that I'm not personally interested in. So far, it hasn't been on my docket of things to write about.

Hello Frances, I have just been to health class, and I was wondering how your feminine parts were developing.