Tuesday, June 17, 2003

NO, I’m not “taking a

NO, I’m not “taking a break.” Breaks are for the winners, for those of us who have earned their rest, those who are satisfied with their lives.  They’re not for us whores who can’t stand to go a day without offering another tidbit, another shred, some craven gleaning to convince ourselves that we are important and loved.  And since that sounds pretty much like me, I’m definitely NOT on a “break.” That means, I guess, two things: 1) I can’t sleep around behind Rachael’s back, and 2) you can expect to hear from me again upon my return from the Littlest Big City in America: Sacramento, the home of Kings and governors.  I have a two-day conference to attend - I get to be an advisor on the redraft of standards for the provision of legal services to the elderly.  I know, I’m even cooler than you thought.  The mojo is just erupting out of all my pores.  Anyway I hope it’s mojo.  Cuz now it’s all over my shirt, and at least mojo washes out with a little pre-treating. 

Upshot: I’ll be back on Friday.  In the meantime I expect no one to post any comments here, or even to visit.  But in parting, here’s a little insight into me and my thinking: while I was growing up we had a friday night service every week before supper, with blessings over candles, wine, bread, and special blessings whispered over my sister’s and my heads.  For the kiddush (wine ceremony), dad always seemed to insist that we have special wine from the state capital.  It wasn’t till I was well into high school that I realized he wasn’t asking for Sacramento wine.  Yes that’s right - I’m so cute you could hurl.  You have two days to recover.  Starting --- NOW.