I can pinpoint that as the single happiest moment of my life, because I realized then that Mom would always have my back. It made me feel giant. I raced back down the concrete ramp, faster than I ever had before, so fast I should have fallen, but I didn't fall, because Mom was in the world.

The first stop on this crazy train is Kindergarten Junction, and nobody gets off until it pulls into Harvard Station.

This is why you must love life: one day you're offering up your social security number to the Russian Mafia; two weeks later you're using the word calve as a verb.

Hovering over me was the Chihuly chandelier. Chihulys are the pigeons of Seattle. They're everywhere and even if they don't get in your way, you can't help but build up a kind of antipathy toward them.

Anything I write I ask myself: Is it true, is it entertaining?

One of the main reasons I don't like leaving the house is because I might find myself face to face with a Canadian.

Unfortunately Seattle is my muse, for the better or worse of Seattle - I'm not sure.