This Is As Much A

Here," She Said. "this Is For You." "i Didn't Really Get You Anything," I Sputtered. "i Mean, I Didn't Know That You Were Going To Be Here, And--" "don't Worry. It's Your Embarrassment At Not Having The Thought That Counts.

Are You A Vegetarian?' I Ask, Based On The Evidence In Front Of Me. She Nods. 'why?' 'because I Have This Theory That When We Die, Every Animal That We've Eaten Has A Chance At Eating Us Back. So If You're A Carnivore And You Add Up All The Animals You've Eaten--well, That's A Long Time In Purgatory, Being Chewed.' 'really?' She Laughs. 'no. I'm Just Sick Of The Question. I Mean, I'm A Vegetarian Because I Think It's Wrong To Eat Other Sentient Creatures. And It Sucks For The Environment.

I Can See That The Sadness Has Returned. And It's Not A Beautiful Sadness- Beautiful Sadness Is A Myth. Sadness Turns Our Features To Clay, Not Porcelain.

I Think One Of The Highest Compliments You Can Give A Person Is That When You Are Talking To Him, You Are Not Thinking About The Fact That You Are Talking To Him. That Is, Your Thoughts And Words All Exist On A Single, Engaged Level. You Are Being Yourself Because You Aren't Bothering To Think About Who You Should Be. It Is Like When You Talk In A Dream.

You Think You Know Your Possibilities. Then Other People Come Into Your Life And Suddenly There Are So Many More.