Okay mom, I know that you know that I know you read my blog. And thus-far I've enjoyed our agreement: you don't speak of it, ever, because admitting you read my blog would make you have to admit that you figured out its name by snooping around on my hard drive when I wasn't home (tip: always empty the browser cache and history, and the "recent documents" file if you don't want the person whose computer you are using to know WHERE YOU'VE BEEN POKING AROUND).
However, since you are currently just outside of Paris, where everything is fucking burning, and I can't get through to your cell or your hotel or the nightclub, and have spent the last two days in a neurotic fit over your welfare, and this is your first time in France, and you don't speak a word of French, which not only tends to piss off the French but also makes it difficult to follow, oh, like, safety precautions broadcast on the television and radio...since that's happening; if you have access to a computer and happen to have stopped in on my blog, and are therefore reading this--would you please, please give me a call? Collect? Or send an email? Please? And yes, you can pretend that you just "happened" to call. Like how we play stupid when you just "happen" to mention an intimate detail of my life I've only written about here.
Don't make me get on a plane, sister. I don't care if you work out six times a day, I can still take you.
Posted by Antigeist at November 4, 2005 03:55 PMwhen you do hear from her, please be kind enough to update, okay? because i can't imagine what a two day neurotic fit would be like, without knowing that a three day one is worse. and four would be unbearable.
Posted by: anne at November 6, 2005 03:25 AMOh, you're sweet. Thanks for your concern.
She did just happen to call about three hours after I posted a suggestion that she should.
Coincidence? Hmmmmm.