Sea of Love

(I've included a song at the end of this that you can click and play as you read along)

On Sunday night, I DVRd ABC's "Pan Am" because of an ad I saw on the internet.  The show was as commercial as you might expect, but the sets and the women were pretty.  I heard Bobby Darin's "Mack the Knife" on the show and hijacked it immediately following, but "Beyond the Sea" may be a better song, so I've included it here.

The photo is from the Prodigal Girl.  She was in Sweden for some fashion "thing."  I can't make heads nor tales of such things, but she said it was like going to camp.  She made lasting relationships, she said.  Oh, my. . . .

Yesterday a bold, pretty young woman took my phone number and gave me hers.  Lunch, she said.  I think this gives me permission.  I mean, I've never asked a woman out, as I've said, so calling her wouldn't actually be the first move, would it?  Besides, she's from another country in Eastern Europe.  I don't know.

Drug Skinny has bailed on me. . . thank god.  It was exciting to think about, but I was afraid of it, truly.

Tomorrow I must look right.  I get a longevity award in front of a congress of the factory.

"How'd you do it?" they'll ask.

"Sloth," I will tell them.

A crisp white shirt untucked, newish jeans, a crocodile belt (which no one will see) and shoes, and a linen jacket, I think.  If I only had that unlined silk/wool jacket from Canali. . . . Well. . . I'm just trying to keep up.  The Prodigal Girl would laugh.  I'll tell you why some day.  

Life continues in such strange and fantastic ways.  For awhile, anyway.