Little Chiffon came over for treats, and she was so wonderfully sweet. She hopped in my lap like it was last year and made herself comfortable as she coiled up. After a while she wanted to explore the apartment and she found Jessica absolutely fascinating. I couldn’t blame her, she did present an interesting spectacle, sprawled out on the couch, snoring so loudly that it was occasionally unsettling. Little Chiffon jumped on the couch and then jumped onto Jessica and then did her best to apparently wake my sister up. Jessica didn’t move or acknowledge Little Chiffon, who was not at all amused by this lack of attention. She decided she had better things to do than waste her time being ignored, so she headed out the door.
I’ve never been able to eat pea soup without thinking of demonic possession. Do you know anybody who has ever been possessed by an unholy spirit? It happens so often in the movies and television that you’d think we’d all know of at least somebody. I’m in a coffeeshop right now back home, watching the rain fall — like in Mexico City, it won’t stop — and this idea has quite suddenly enraged me. Every week there’s some new show on the Travel Channel about some possessed child.
Monday: Why don’t you try a food you are absolutely sure you want to have absolutely nothing to do with? All my life I have been enraged at the idea […]
Monday: Why don’t you follow me and one of my favorite Hollywood fashion trends and wear gorgeous pajamas as everyday wear? My fashion pajamas are not designer, reader, my gorgeous […]
She loves and worships gay men in a way that is equal parts worrying and hilarious. She wants everybody to be gay. So, imagine her complete and utter glee to see handsome Mexican men openly parading up and down one of the pedestrian streets hand-in-hand with their impossibly more handsome boyfriends. She sighed in complete contentment so often that it was worrying. I first thought she might be having trouble breathing because of the altitude, but it was just gay joy.
In high school, I would not miss an episode of Así es la Vida. It was on Univision without subtitles and I couldn’t understand a thing. It was brilliant. Eventually it became the foundation of my Spanish education, which is surely why it’s easier to talk about my cheating husband than it is the weather. Still, no knowledge is bad knowledge.
I have had many sensitive plants over the years, and they are one of the very first things I purchase at the Marché des Fleurs in Paris when I arrive in my beloved city. I have a spindly one at home right now that my cat worships. He loves to stick his face in the plant and watch it curl up at his touch. But this post has to do with another seemingly cognizant plant, the Venus Flytrap.
I felt quite drunk on sunshine. It was intoxicating. I couldn’t stop smiling. The sounds (the half that I could hear since I’m deaf now) and colors and the breeze blowing through my hair was everything I have been needing. I have been so bleak lately, but this hour out in the countryside restored a great chunk of who I used to be. I sat decadently in a nearby cemetery and watched as the sun sank into barren fields. The heavens were a riot of color and it felt like I had been thrust into an impressionistic painting. I felt quite alive.
When I get overwhelmed by the overbearing Americanness of Iowa I can escape to places like this. For me, there is honestly nothing quite so refreshing as sitting in a strange place listening to conversations in languages I can’t even name as I devour something hearty and delicious. That food made me feel so good. Maybe I should marry an Indian guy who’s a chef. That is probably one of the better ideas I’ve ever had. Please send in your applications for my hand in marriage, gentlemen. Cheers.
Monday: Why don’t you pretend you never treat yourself and treat yourself? I just discovered that there’s a gorgeous little exhibition going on at the Oriental Institute until the end […]