All I can say is, thank God that bridesmaid's dress is corseted. Oh, and also for the clearance section at DSW having the last pair of white shoes available in any store after Labor Day. Have I mentioned that I'd rather have a root canal than go shoe shopping?
I think the Eggs Benedict ship has sailed, but general consensus is that no one appreciates the magic of Hollandaise quite like I do. Sad. You're all missing out. But egg-in-a-hole (as I was taught to call an egg cooked inside of toast) is a fine way to eat an egg, too.
Ah, so. You're never too old for some things. Like feeling like you're back in high school all over again, desperately seeking the approval of the beautiful and charismatic (last night). And fortunately, it seems you're never too old for Disney-style daydreams. I've been working with a French author, some eminent attorney in Paris, and I can't stop coming back to this fantasy where she's so impressed with my work on her article that she calls me one day and says, "Oh, Mademoiselle Robinson, you simply
must come to Paree and work for me! Be my protege! I will pay for l'ecole de droit!" And she flies me over to France, where my law career takes off and I have a baguette and a cafe au lait every morning on my way to the office and there's a tiny dog in my handbag (the tiny dog is pretty much a constant in all of my dreams for the future). It's funny, because I didn't like Paris all that much when I was there, and I have zero interest in ever practicing bankruptcy law, but in this imaginary life, I am so, so happy.
I am really itching to flee the country again, if only for a little while.
A question in closing - who the
hell stands halfway down an on-ramp to hitchhike? Really, even if I remotely wanted to pick you up, there's no way I'm going to slam on my brakes for you as I'm picking up speed to get on 490. Poor guy's probably still standing out there, wondering why nobody has stopped, and in fact people start going
faster as they pass him. What a head-scratcher.
