intermission

I’m eating crumpets. With big dollops of butter that’ll stick to my thighs. Then it’s a martini and more because I never have before, and because an old alumni I didn’t know I knew seems to think they’re good in a crisis. That’s what I’m having. Here’s why.

* I’m packing – for a year. Trying to store two lives into multiple plastic containers and tiny, chemically treated cardboard boxes charged out at $90 a pop. It’s not cheap (I’m on box 21). And it’s not fun.

* Today I broke the head off a Lladro figurine. It was dear to me. I just breathed on it and it fell over. I cried. Then I sat on the stairs and laughed. I’ve been flip flopping like this all day. People are afraid.

* And there’s the airport thing. It’s awful and terrible and makes me think of amitriptyline. It’s hauling fourteen pieces of luggage across London and through lock down security. It’s being frisked by large hirsute women and camera gear I’m going to have to FedEx to the States.

* Last but not least. Someone’s peddling porn on MySpace with my smiling face attached. Spammers have used my account to send out an uber graphic video to my contacts list. Recipients include grandparents, deacons, workmates, Hannah (cover your eyes!) and Billy Joe.

I’m not moaning. I’m just saying.

The Not So Super Model Saga will continue shortly……