2000-01-20

When in Rome...

I got fan mail today. Very exciting. I used to think that maybe hate mail would be exciting, too; Kristina and I even discussed it at length at one point, with her assuring me that hate mail is not particularly exciting if you don't have the belly for it. I don't have the belly for it, but I still felt as though I was missing something grand and important. A rite of passage, if you will. Careful what you wish for. I can say now from experience that fan mail is vastly preferable to hate mail. Hear the dulcet tones of my purring ego as it is stroked, stroked, stroked!

Had dinner-n-drinks with the sis and her beau, plus assorted others, last night. My sister, for such a delicate-looking creature, has a remarkably gravelly voice, which, when she gets herself really worked up over something, damn near pierces the sound barrier. She was whipping herself into a frenzy of nostalgia over her stint as a vagabond in Europe, where she and her travelling companion became convinced that they were being followed by a lone pubic hair. "God, it turned up everywhere we went," she shrieked, "It was on my pillow, it was on Diane's face one morning, and then I found it on my wine glass!" I looked down at my plate and suddenly the last thing I wanted in the world to be looking at was pesto.

lisamcc at 13:54:47

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