Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Greece on a pearl string

Ingredients for this My Time: the perfect outfit and story to make foreign travel worthwhile.

Honey, I've made it to Greece, am on the yacht...where are you? I thought we were going to hunt for our future ex-husbands together? Oil barons are so in--you know that is so if women half our age are dating them. But for us, marriage is dating, and alimony is where the sweet memories lie. Without you here I've already managed to get into some trouble--hush hush, not that bad, but you know, enough to give me some foreign intrigue that will send those oil-dripping glances my way! First, as you may know, I enjoy understanding what it means to be common, so I've decided to stay in less elegant digs to fit in with the people. But, that doesn't mean that a lady doesn't need to be pampered.

So, of course, I turned my chin up and pranced into one of the local resorts. After parking in a reserved spot to prove that I belong there, I found my way to the restaurant. When I sat at a table not knowing that it was room-reserved, I simply pointed toward the sea and proclaimed that my husband knew what room we were in and I wouldn't bother to examine such details. Thus, I was given a "snack bar menu," instead of offered the fixed on, and let me tell you, that large pizza THAT I ORDERED WITH LESS CHEESE BUT THE REQUEST DID NOT TRANSLATE SO LOOK I TRIED tasted delicious. And god, the Greeks really love their bread. It was like foccacia crust! But that's what bathroom time is for, Honey, and at the resort, the perfect bathroom attendant will hold back your hair as you let the staff know what you think about their "snack bar menu."

To prove that I was a member of this club, I of course walked around with my LEFTOVERS YES I HAD SOME to the pool, the sea, sitting under and umbrella while posing with a scarf IN THE WIND

and then left my pizza box for someone else to clean up, as I am not paid for such things. The next day, well, a riotous thing happened. It was summer solstice, an important day for any woman to remember that her vagina is connected to the stream of the universe or whatever, so I donned a maxi dress (to cover the cellulite of a knowledgeable woman), a fluorite pendant (to connect to those who are lost, like ex-huzzies' bank accounts), and selenite earrings (to keep the heart strong while ex-huzzie shopping).

I went out to dinner with some elegant, rich friends who are already married, and as the one who drove, accidentally drove us right into some local Greek woman's yard! I know, Honey, it's HILARIOUS. JUST THINK OF MY HUMILIATION. I kid, we all know that as a rich woman, shame is not something I care for. Not wanting to continue to ruin the Rolls I borrowed, as I do have some standards, the woman's husband came out and pulled the car out of the narrow drive for me. I laughed and laughed, because it was SO FUNNY.

This is what it's like to travel, Honey. Crazy things happen, and it suits a lady to have a sense of whimsy about it, which, of course, I ALWAYS HAVE I NEVER DON'T FEEL GREAT AND EVERY MAN CAN TELL WHAT A GREAT TIME I AM, EVEN WHILE RUNNING INTO YARDS. Ahem, excuse me, I must have coughed.

Anyway, hurry and get to the yacht. I'm at the inflatable one next to the (slightly) larger one, waiting to show that oil baron ALL that I have to give.

your Daggy.

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