Some People Just Make Me

I Obviously Read And Adore Traditional Fiction. I Teach Traditional Fiction, I Also Teach All Kind Of Not-so-traditional Fiction. And Since I'm Such A Plot Buff, And I'm Really Such A Narrative Buff, I Can't Seem To Relinquish My - Not Just Reliance - But Excitement About Those Traditional Techniques.

I Am Simply Looking For A Companion With Whom To Spend My Days, A Companion Who Will Cherish As Much As I The Stupidity Of Living In The Moment, And Spend Every Dull, Amazing Second With Me.

I'm At That Age Where I Notice Friends Checking Out My Face And Wondering, Has She Been Botoxed? There's A New Map There People That Are Trying To Read. I Think If I Did Get Any Kind Of Enhancement I Would Be Very Public About It. I Don't Want People Wondering - I Want Them To Know.

I Tell Myself It's A Virtue, My Failure To Sleep In My Own House, Or At All. I Tell Myself That I Spend More Hours Than Most People Aware That I Am Alive, And That Over A Lifetime This Adds Up To More Living, More Aliveness. I Am More Alive Than The Rest Of My Family. Which Is My Greatest Night Fear. Which Is Why I Hunt. I Don't Ever Want To Be More Alive Than They Are.

I Wish Somebody Knew Whether Or Not I'm Jewish.