It's so nice to have sane friends. I imagine.

And we'd look at each other the way you do when you see someone on the street you think you recognize, but not quite. Someone you wish with all your heart were there but who is actually just a stranger. And you feel a kind of deep longing that hurts like a huge gash and your inability to fix it leaves you frustrated and angry and bone-deep lonely.

You can only run away from a house. Home is something you run toward.

YES. BECAUSE THAT'S HOW I ROLL. LIKE A SUAVE THING. In fact, from here on, please forward my mail to 1 Suave Hill, Suave Boulevard, Suavieland, Planet of She's-So-Smooth-I-Can't-Believe-She's-Not-Butter.

that was the plan? part of it, you don't wan tot know the rest. i believe the word 'these dog colllars would make excellent restraints' were involved. it was a brilliant idea. and we only got really cute well-made collars. this is my favorite. we had the tag engraved to say BUBBA.

i never thought of it before, but with your height and build, you are going to look SO CUTE in your straitjacket.

Thinking, not for the first time, that life should come with a trapdoor. Just a little exit hatch you could disappear through when you´d utterly and completely mortified yourself. Or when you had spontaneous zit eruptions. “Good book?” he asked, taking it from her and reading the subtitle, “A Guide for Good Girls Who (Sometimes) Want to Be Bad,” out loud. But life did not come with a trapdoor.