LOVE: “La Reina del Sur” Return: She’s coming back. Teresa is coming back. LA REINA RETURNS! I honestly don’t think that I’ll be able to handle this. I can barely […]
I was immediately obsessed and spent the rest of the day in a delirium. I too want to be a monk, alone, quiet, doing nothing but building coffins. I dream of becoming a hay farmer in Romania, doing the backbreaking work and worrying only about hay, thinking only of hay. And I would be ecstatic to be an outcast on a deserted island, foraging for food, building shelters out of palm fronds and bamboo poles. It would all suit me down to the ground.
Since I left the airport last year, my soul has been aching to return. And finally I’m back and I can’t even begin to tell you how wonderful it is. Nothing has changed, if anything, Mexico is better. But I’m jumping ahead. I need to start at the very beginning. Hopefully — and I just learned in one of my university courses that that’s not an acceptable word but I don’t give a hoot — you’ve missed my lengthy reminisces of travel. As one of my long-dead heroines, Lady Lucie Duff-Gordon, an Englishwomen who gave herself completely to Egypt and died in Luxor, once said, “I long to bore you with traveler’s tales.” Let’s get started.
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.
Am I wasting my life by not pursuing archaeology whilst I’m at my physical peak? I dunno. Probably never will. We never get a chance to do life over again, which I hate. I’d love to live forever and do everything I’ve ever wanted. But I can’t. And my life is roughly a third finished and time goes so much faster than I realized. This is a melancholy way to say that I watched the most stunning documentary on National Geographic about Mayan archaeology.
Picture it, Paris 2009, a cozy winter night, me in a vintage Dior suit, snow gently falling and making the streets glitter under the yellow streetlights. There I am in a highly regarded restaurant on Left Bank just a stone’s throw from Notre Dame. That evening would prove to be one of the most influential in my gastronomic life.
I cackled like a child when Martha acted in ways that the viewer never dreamed she could. I wasn’t shocked by her behavior because I have followed every step of her career. Martha’s empire may not be at its peak right now, but this is my very favorite version of her. Of course I loved the fancy Hampton’s Martha and I loved socialite Martha on a yacht and I loved Martha in prison, but there is nothing quite like who she is now. She is hilarious, wise, and doesn’t give two shits about anything.