It’s not that I want to be a rule-follower. I just grew up that way, but it doesn’t make any sense. It was the sixties, for god’s sake. There was Woodstock. Hippies were cool.

But in eighth grade, at a Latin Convention (I know), I snuck out the window to meet a boy. I didn’t get caught but the next day someone told on me. There was the principal’s office and my parents… Well, that whole episode put an end to my wild ride.

After that, I specifically did not want to get in trouble. I still don’t like being in trouble.

Isn’t it wonderful the way the world holds both the deeply serious, and the unexpected mirthful?
–Mary Oliver, from Our World


 365 true things about me