Off The Grid.
I've been off the grid since Friday when Mama Vey came into town until I put her on a plane back to Chicago today.
To say this weekend was hell wouldn't be exactly right. And slightly unfair. But damn, it was draining.
In order to avoid the following topics of conversation
1) "...you really should wear support hose because..."
2) " ...you know, your step-sister is still dating that priest...after seven years for chrissakes!...they need to shit or get off the pot..."
3) "...and what exactly did Mr. X do to deserve your walking out on him? Exactly?..."
we did the following:
Reading Terminal, Shouk, Benjamin Lovell, DiBruno Brothers, Eastern State Penitentiary, Benjamin Lovell, Mutter Museum, Blue Mercury, City Tavern, Benjamin Lovell, Miel, Mama Palma's, and Tria ("Let me tell you exactly. What. Mr. X. Did...").
And for penance I spent the morning getting a Brazilian bikini wax at The Body Klinic (GG, is this where you went?) by a woman named Tatayana. Who is from Kazakhstan (a tidbit of info I absolutely love) (and it's been a loooong time since the last one believe you me.) . And I spent the better part of the evening at The Sidecar chatting with a Liverpudlian ("A posh 'scourse' 'scourt'?? Not sure if I got that word right....???)
OK. No writing any articles about scones tonight, which is what I promised meself. Absolutely not going to happen given the three sidecars I had on Sidecar A's dime, the bastard.