Well, HELLO THERE!

I have just discovered that I can no longer use my facebook profile as a blog. What is this garbage?? Facebook, for god's sake, people want you to invade their privacy! They wouldn't be social networking otherwise. They want you to know that they are poor and getting divorced and that they have illegitimate children and have been feeling ill for days...I know because they, themselves elected to fill that information in that little status box. Anyway, I will maybe have to blog now...maybe.

I am at present drinking coffee, which makes me sick, and listening to torch songs on Pandora and reading an '09 issue of Harper's Bazaar that I keep in my desk. I am also making up stories in my head about imaginary people and am terribly pleased to have the solitude that this Saturday brings in which I may do that.


My last post mentions Dubai, which was marvelous beyond marvelous. Nothing will ever be as romantic to me as Arabic and Islam and desert. {That was one s, not two; I'm not terribly fond of sweets.} I hope I can go back someday...I am dreaming about exploring Morocco, too, where I'm being denied a vacation this year (I'm poor: see? I wanted you to know) even though a close, familial girlfriend will be there for months.


I also visited Switzerland last month to see my dear, dear sister and brother. I ate the most wonderful cheese and Elisabeth cut up a radish at one point, which we just...ate. I love travel eating. We had many nice conversations, many ridiculous conversations, and Erin and I also had many, many drinks. We sat in a park with real wine glasses until my fingers froze and eventually went to a club that was possibly a bunker (or, in my stupor, sure looked like one). In time, we ended the morning drinking Chartreuse (I think it was actually liquified pleutonium) whilst watching Tupac videos.

I have suddenly run short of (pertinent) thoughts. My mind is making fiction again. I think it best that I leave the ice to my blog broken and return to Wikipedia. Among other gems of useless knowledge, I've read about the making of "The Way We Were," Truman Capote (did you know he was childhood friends with Harper Lee? I did not.), Anais Nin, and The Cotton Club.