Circling the Wagons

I have a sneaking suspicion that people are being nice to me because they’re afraid I’m going to die soon.

People are cooking me meals, and sending me gifts, and offering to buy me plane tickets to fly all kinds of good places. My best friend from college, on her way to a family reunion last weekend, made a brief overnight stop in Philly, her three year old and all their gear in tow, allegedly to visit, but I’m convinced she just wanted to make sure I’m still breathing. She is suspicious of this whole Internet thing and probably thinks some poser is ghost writing my blog.

Don't Cry For Me

June 10, 2008

Fun Kim has just gotten off the phone with the mayor’s office in Pamplona. Her friend and assistant to the mayor, Ana, wants to know if las rubias americanas will be returning this July for San Fermin, the weeklong bacchanal immortalized in Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises and best known for the daily running of the bulls. In a conservative city populated by dark-haired Spaniards, two American blondes were quasi-celebrities at last summer’s event.

Fun Kim, who spent a year in Pamplona studying Spanish and teaching English to the mayor’s little boy, can’t go. The youngest of my single girlfriends, she is back home in Oregon, wisely working on the master’s degree that will let her live and teach anywhere in the world when she is finished. Me, I can’t go either, for less impressive reasons, but passionate Spain in the sultry summer sure looks good from where I’m sitting, which right now happens to be the Little Infusion Room on the 13th Floor.

Sex and the City

"Miss Truvy, I promise that my personal tragedy will not interfere with my ability to do good hair."
--Steel Magnolias
“Look at yourself right now and tell me you don’t feel sexy.” The order came from Captain Celia.

I turned around to face the mirror in the entryway of the hotel suite. Almost ready for bed, I had shed my dress and bra, but was still wearing heels, black and purple lace panties, and my wig. Long, dark tresses spilled halfway down my back and curled over my naked chest, covering just enough to keep the shot PG-rated. So far.