I shared a bed with my sister, Grace, until I was seventeen years old. She was afraid to sleep alone and would begin asking me around 5:00 P.M. every day whether she could sleep with me. I put on a big show of saying no, taking pleasure in watching her beg and sulk, but eventually I always relented. Her sticky, muscly little body thrashed beside me every night as I read Anne Sexton, watched reruns of SNL, sometimes even as I slipped my hand into my underwear to figure some stuff out.

I would go to work from 9 to 6, go home, nap for two hours, then write from 8 to 2 a.m.

sometimes I was so bored that I started arguments just to experience the rush of almost losing him.

From what I hear, [ "Fifty Shades of Grey" ] is not a way that I feel like I need to be turned on or like a hole that needs to be filled in me.

Everyone needs something from me.

I think we all feel that way when we're young we don't think teachers have lives. We don't think therapists have lives. We don't think doctors have lives.

My mom said the term heavy petting existed a lot when she was in high school.