Hi, you guys.
Alison, you are an angel.
It's so glary up here.
Is there anything we can do about it?
[INAUDIBLE]
Maybe nothing.
Because you're dim and romantic-looking, and I'm glary.
[LAUGHTER]
[INAUDIBLE]
I want to be dim and romantic-looking too.
[INAUDIBLE]
That's a good idea.
Better?
Yes.
I don't have any emotional courage.
[LAUGHTER]
Let's get that really straight.
I'm so nervous about this second book.
You see, I can keep my paper straight.
And my high school boyfriend is here.
[LAUGHTER]
And I haven't seen him in over 20 years.
And his name is Tom Drexel.
He's here.
I loved him.
I still do.
And the girl that I was, is ugh--
she's here too.
[LAUGHTER]
You can see how confusing it is.
[LAUGHTER]
I'm very confused.
But I'm very, very happy to be here.
I love Tucson.
Tucson has healed me.
I came here from New York.
My apartment-- it's smaller than Karen Falkenstrom's swimming
pool.
It's also smaller than Allson's swimming pool.
[LAUGHTER]
It's probably smaller than most of your garages.
And everyone's been so good to me.
Alison, Karen, Steve, Jane, Barbara.
I want to read a poem by George Herbert we just read.
I was like, I said to Alison, when was he-- read this date.
Because I didn't have my glasses on--
1593, he was born.
I love this poem.
This is a poem that comforts me when
I think about my own sense of unworthiness.
Maybe some of what I mean.
It's called, "Love."
Love bade me welcome.
Yet my soul drew back--
guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me
grow slack from my first entrance in drew nearer to me,
sweetly questioning if I lacked anything.
A guest, I answered, worthy to be here.
Love said, you shall be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful?
Ah, my dear, I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
who made the eyes but I?
Truth Lord, but I have marred them.
Let my shame go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?
My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat.
So I did sit and eat.
What a guy.