One of my friends once said that when things got bad, she fantasized about living in one of those storage units, the ones for all that stuff that you think you need and will probably never use. "It would be so simple, Michelle," she said. "I could get away from everything."
Everyone at that lunch was cracking up in their own peculiar way in the middle of Don Pablos over an unappealing group of sauces known as an appetizer medley. I sat amidst cigarette smoke and the watery sodas -- the waiter had long since gotten that doomed vibe from our table and had stopped asking us if "everything was all right" since it just wasn't. After many minutes, we finally got our check from someone else. "Who was taking care of you?" asked the new waitress. And even though we none of us ate much, all of us ended up paying.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
Latest fortune cookie -- Your charm had not gone unnoticed by the angel. (No idea what this means, but it sounds good.)
The Last Rose Of Summer
1 shot of vodka mixed with rose water and lemonade, served over ice.
Benedictions and Maledictions