Kids, take note: Miss Cybil does not forget things. True, she may forget the occasional holiday, birthday, or that time she “was supposed to pick her son up after surgery” (always with the club foot, Sal!), but generally speaking, her mouth is like a cave. Her brain’s like a trap door. Or something.
At least, she doesn’t forget her camera. But there are times when she just can’t take a photo, per se. And some times, these are the best times. Like the last week. I can’t show you a photo of:
1. The taste of eating an empanada after having an affair with a priest. (Hey, he wanted it!)
2. The cool lashing of a breeze off of a lakeside…. somewhere.
3. The joy of playing bingo on the bus while sitting next to a lady who just may want the first prize (a bottle of Vino) almost as much as you. And the ensuing attempt to have the winner disqualified, because let’s face it, did he really look older than 15? I don’t think so.
4. Patagonian sunsets that seem to last all day, stretch further than the horizon itself, and introduce a new color each day.
5. Seeing The Bourne Ultimatum on the big screen, with not one but two kids from Boston!
6. Taking a cab ride around the city at night. Just for the hell of it.
7. Finding a new apartment! Okay, I’m lying, I did take a photo of my little outdoor area:
Not shown: a really hot, shirtless guy who was right around the corner, ready to give me “breakfast in bed.” Hey–I’m divorced, Jimmy, give me a break. And you know what? I do pilates. Granted, not as much since I’ve fallen in love with the empanada stand nearby, but enough so that I deserve a little breakfast in bed, you know what I mean? Photo credit: Cybil Blaine.
P.S. What I’m trying to say is that I was unk-dray for about a week and am only now coming out of what my landlady so lovingly referred to as an “American coma.” God bless those Mexicans!
