“And then you will understand that everything is a construct that can be broken down given sufficient desperation and that if what you really want to do is go live on a pontoon and knit hats, then you can.”

“People want to talk to me. I have a gap-toothed grin and attentive listening style. Come on. That’s interpersonal gold, right there.”

“I woke up all peaceful and centred and Zen, but I was so peaceful that I fell back asleep. The second time I woke up I was in the more familiar hyper-active squirrel of foggy and sourceless Catholic guilt state.”

“. . . I’ve managed to record a Klezmer EP, play in a pick up band with some Frenchmen and a tall smoothie of a professional swing dancer, dance with a ginger who ended that dance by basically doing a controlled leg sweep and forcing me to cling to him like a sloth to a rocking chair, grace many fortunate individuals who cross my path with my mysterious (delirious) gaze, and cry on the street. (Fever.)”

“They were still going strong back in the bar, dreadlocks a’swangin, Cousin It hair a’quiverin, small muscular men bouncing around, their bald bullet heads making intimate contact with other people’s softer bits. . . “I will confess, I love to mosh. It’s the natural extension of the fighting style I developed to beat my brother, the Boxing Octopus. ”

“We went over to see the grandmother (known more formally as Madame) and I got nervous because maybe she wouldn’t like me because I am, in the words of a friend, a sassmouth dame.”

Visit Elizabeth Vargas’s Blog:  Eat Pie Not War