I am a plodder, I make an appointment with my computer everyday and I have no idea where I am going.

I don't know. Maybe we're all chaos theorists. Lovers of pattern and predictability, we're scared shitless of explosive change. But we're fascinated by it, too. Drawn to it. Travelers tap their brakes to ogle the mutilation and mangled metal on the side of the interstate, and the traffic backs up for miles. Hijacked planes crash into skyscrapers, breached levees drown a city, and CNN and the networks rush to the scene so that we can all sit in front of our TVs and feast on the footage. Stare, stunned, at the pandemonium--the devils let loose from their cages.

Life is a whoopee cushion, a chair pulled away just as you were taking a seat.

When I was a kid... I needed to belong.

I'm a very rooted person. I grew up in Norwich, Connecticut, I still live in Connecticut.

Look, don't just stare at the pages," I used to tell my students. "Become the characters. Live inside the book.

Love comes in far more shapes and sizes than what the family-values crowd condones, of course.