LOVE:Everything Harry Styles Does: So, unless you live under a rock — and I take umbrage with that saying. What on Earth does that mean? Who would live under a […]
Monday: Why don’t you fill up your yard with early blooming flowers? The return of spring has filled me with delight and reminded me that the world isn’t always a […]
LOVE: Cormoran Strike Book Series: The Harry Potter series gives me something akin to PTSD. I loved those damn books so much. I tore through them as soon as I […]
LOVE: “From Vienna with Love” by Conchita Wurst: Do you watch Eurovision every year? If you don’t, you are a fool and you are absolutely wasting your life. One of […]
She said something profound right then, after tutting dismissively at me, “You just live, Ben! Don’t listen to anybody, and if they ask what’s wrong, say that you fell in a damn ditch and you hurt your knee. OH! And always talk to the bartender; he has all the right answers and you don’t have to take him home.”
“Queen!” I muttered, but I don’t think she understood.
Nobody bothered me as I stood there. All the touts knew me and knew I had my people. They were nothing but friends and strangers now. I was no longer a source of revenue. I was just a man. I was just Ben standing beside the Nile. I really don’t know how long I was there, but as I did, my life began to pass by in my memories. I was back at Egyptian Treasures with my dad and Donald, talking about Cairo and dreaming of treasure. I was on an ancient computer in elementary school furiously printing pages from the Theban Mapping Project. I was in Barnes and Noble buying discounted books. I was in the Louvre staring at hieroglyphs. I was screaming at textbooks. I was dreaming of the future. I was back on a rooftop in Giza with Lady M. I was wandering through temples with Abdul. I was breaking the Ramadan fast at the Khan el-Khalili. I was dreaming of digging. I was in raptures at the thought of the basements of the Egyptian Museum. I was drinking Stella again with Hassan. I was back by the Nile. And I was an Egyptian through and through.
Still I dared to dream. I didn’t dare tell Jessica that we were almost assuredly not getting tickets because she would have had a meltdown and gone into a psychotic and depressive episode that she might never emerge from. So, when I was bizarrely lucky enough to get a code the night before, I was extra nervous. So many didn’t get codes. I did, though. Then the morning came. Ten o’clock came. Reader, I have rarely been more afraid.
Monday: Why don’t you spend the weekend as a suburban wine mom? I had the most delightful couple of days staying in Ankeny, sipping on rosé by the fireplace, watching […]
LOVE: Los Angeles: Each time I go to LA, I fall more and more in love with that wonderful, sprawling city. You might recall my disillusionment the first time I went, […]
Let’s set the mood. To Egypt! I have always intended to write the story of my life in three volumes, each book telling the story of 33 year bits of my […]