Have you ever been homesick for someplace that doesn't actually exist anymore? Someplace that exists only in your mind?

Writing is my therapy. In addition to my real therapy. God knows where I'd be without it. I'd probably still be at my last job, working in HR at a religious organization. I was horribly miscast.

Because you are defined not by life's imperfect moments, but by your reaction to them. And because there is joy in embracing - rather than running from - the utter absurdity of life.

So many of us feel like we're misfits until we finally find our tribe - the other people who are are strange in the same way - and suddenly everything clicks.

A friend is someone who knows where all your bodies are buried. Because they're the ones who helped you put them there." And sometimes, if you're really lucky, they help you dig them back up.

People assume that because I'm a girl and my blog is hot pink that my readership is 90% women, but it's not. It's probably only about 65%. When I do tours, it's pretty much the same thing: it's about one-third guys.

One of the most important things I learned is forging a rapport with someone at your insurance company. Know their names. You'll eventually get someone who will tell you, "This is how you do an appeal. This is what you need to say in your letter. " You can also always go to the ER to get whatever you need to tide you over for a few days.