Notes on the Eve of a Terribly Stressful Biology Final (or) Uh-oh, Adios Sanity

Oh, good evening, friends. And how does this evening find you? Well, I hope? You look well, I must say; it would appear that Paris does agree with you. My, look at your pallor, ruddy as anything! Most excellent. Well but then I suppose, the city of lights would bring a twinkle to one’s eye, it is in the name after all. How are we on time? Oh wonderful, just enough to have a drink. What quaint, unique little outdoor café shall we frequent today? Oh how about this one, with the green lattice on the windows, look how lovely it is.

Isn't the weather fine here? A bit wet, this time of year, but I don't mind, I quite enjoy the time spent inside. It does give one so much more opportunity to focus on one's leisure, don't you think? Do you draw? I absolutely love it, although my husband can't stand the charcoal. It does make an awful mess, but it's all so satisfying to get dirty once in a while, don't you find? Oh my, but here's the waiter, yes, I believe I'll have a brandy, thank you ever so. Are you hungry? Yes, and bring along some sandwiches, won't you, there's a chap.

My, life has been so much more relaxing since I succeeded from the reality of my Allston-based existence into this Hemingway-fueled fantasy world in which get to walk around wealthy European towns and drink expensive alcohol. Perhaps I'll call in to work later to tell them I couldn't possibly do a thing, not today, not with the weather the way it is, so perfect for a stroll down the pier or a horse-drawn taxi ride around the park. Besides my hands are only just beginning to heal from their arthritic state - all that paper writing and page turning, you understand. Wreaked havoc on my joints, I'll tell you that much! No, no, now I just hang around in my boudoir until a strange Count brings me champagne and forces me to have an expensive dinner with him in return for nothing but the pleasure of my exquisite, youthful company. Or one of my unique-yet-familiar-in-their-wealth friends (or enemies, rather hard to tell) pops round and we get drunk and talk about something terribly masculine like boxing, or women and how complicated they are.

No, of course not all Hemingway stories are like this, but I've just read 'The Sun Also Rises', and in doing so decided that I wanted my life to be one long evening, as well, so I constructed this terribly delightful personal universe in which I am the lady of leisure I've always dreamed of being. A lady who lunches, even! Can you imagine? All of my wide brimmed hats, expensive sunglasses, and bangles? Not that Hemingway would say a word about those, of course not; 4 or 5 sentences about what a taxi cab was passing as it drives into the garage but not a stitch on the splendor of my professionally done fingernails. Never mind. I am excited, I do suspect that as we get deeper and deeper into this collection I shall swiftly retire to the country, perhaps do some game hunting. Oh my I will need a gun, won't I? I imagine there will be some villas, some remote locations. More girls. More guns. I'm so very excited. Oh look! The brandy is here, wonderful, wonderful. A toast, why not? A toast!