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I am optimistic that things will fall into place, and one day I’ll be sitting in New York City with
correct bus fare in my pocket.
John has a fifteen-foot-long, five-foot-tall block of jade that was originally bought by General
Perón in Argentina, who wanted a statue of his wife Eva carved from it.
1979
In current events, a sixteen-year-old in San Diego opened fire on an elementary school playground with an M16 and 250 rounds of ammunition.
Edith Sitwell said that one of her favorite pastimes was to sharpen her claws on the wooden heads of her opponents.
Being interviewed by Terry Gross on Fresh Air
I wonder whether he was.
As a teacher I’ll have faculty meetings and cocktail parties.
I cannot believe anyone ever looked forward to faculty meetings.
New American Writing published my story “Firestone” and sent me a check for $15.
I forget how much crap women have to put up with.
Amy made it into the Second City touring company.
It was always my dream to read in such a fancy place in front of such a big audience.
March 15, 1991
This spring I am, if I’m not mistaken, in love.
They take loads of shit from the tenants and then heap it on whoever’s less powerful.
Loud and powerfully built, they had spent their break threatening one another and yelling out the windows at passing girls. They were all so volatile and mean-looking, but faced with the page, they were powerless, like children.
December 15, 1992 New York Ira Glass called to say that Morning Edition would like to broadcast my “SantaLand Diary.” They’ll pay me $500 and give him $200 to produce it. So tomorrow I go to a recording studio.
It was all I ever wanted.
Titanic. Who do they think is going to see that movie?
It’s pretty rare to go from a fight to a pleasant meal.
“I’m not a misogynist, I’m a misanthrope. I hate everyone equally.”
The movie Groundhog Day was released in Germany with the title Eternally Weeps the Groundhog. That is so beautiful.
I’ve become the exact sort of person I hate.
I hope you are never the victim of a smoking-related illness or have to care for someone who is—believe me—then ‘talking pretty’ will not be an option.”
His mothrr died of lung cancer!
We sit around like people in a magazine, but it’s not the sort of magazine I’d ever subscribe to.
What killed me, what killed many of us, was the very end: “My home sweet home.”
