Here I am. Rock you like a hurricane?

Do you ever have those moments when you catch your reflection in the window of the expensive furniture store and think, "That is me. Just me, my body, and it could be anywhere, doing anything. I could take it to Lebanon tomorrow. There's nothing big stopping me. I could be living on the West side with 4 babies, riddled with ritalin and the paw prints of mean men. I could go back to Bali and try to find the monkey whose tail I grabbed and form a special primate bond, and make a monkey orchestra. But somehow, the cosmic lottery has gently placed me in front of this window in a small city in North America, my image superimposed over armoires and silky settees"?

That's right after you wonder if your ass could possibly be as big as the furniture store window is telling you it is.