But after living there, and taking time to really get to know the Ghanaian people, I grasped a reality that most Americans overlook.
Perhaps, if I grasped a few more of the fundamentals of the sports I do half-watch in the interstices of sleep and chair-dancing, I'd feel less of a fraud about claiming an interest in them.
Thus I grasped a railing, closed my eyes, and tried to calm my mind.
Yet while I grasped a rickety boulder around 12,000 feet, pummeled in the face by fierce snow-laced winds of 40 mph and shouting obscenities, I reconsidered that.
In my hands, I grasped a weathered notebook with doodles on the front cover; below it, the name "Grace Stuart"* had been penciled in.
Without the use of my hands, I grasped a shot glass from between his legs, tipped my head back, and swallowed the drink, which was appropriately dubbed a blowjob.
I'm missing out on one, two, three, wheeeeeeeeeeeees, when my husband and I each grasp a little hand between us and lift up at the same time.
"I can grasp a wine glass with my bionic fingers," he said.
WABC is playing on the radio, a soundtrack to a world that is approaching more quickly than I can grasp, a world that threatens to obliterate my own.
I grasp that a New Yorker might lust for a senator with a popsicle in his butthole; a shrugging sinner in a hot tub doesn't quite rate.
