Must be all this talk about breasts. Or poop. Or maybe all the cussing. I've been banned in Heathrow airport because the weighted phrase limit has been exceeded and my site "contains, or is labelled as containing, material that has been deemed inappropriate." Wohoo! I feel damn proud.My favorite vagabond in the world (not to mention children's author), Charles Moré, is apparently loose in London, though I have no idea why. He has the most amazing adventures, and I'm sure Clementine's first international trip will be to see him in some remote corner of the world. I met Charles when we were both living in Chiang Mai, Thailand, and our lives have crossed paths many times since (and will continue to do so, no doubt, in the future). He was in Ithaca studying Chinese while I was getting my MFA, and then he moved to Taiwan. I've managed to see him when he has come back to the states, although the last time was when I was grossly pregnant and sick to boot. We don't keep in touch nearly as much as we should, and every little note from him makes me miss him like crazy. If it weren't already past my bedtime, I'd have a novel of an entry to write about Charles and the good times we've had together--millions of movies (lots of kung-fu), teaching me to ride my motorbike, practicing Thai in drag bars and hooker hangouts, drinking way too much in two countries and several U.S. states, playing PlayStation until we had callouses, road trips through Canada, Latin dancing class (and the fights that ensued), stories, stories, stories and more than my feeble, sleep-deprived (see below) mind can bring to the surface right now. He's a renaissance man, and we sure miss the hell out of him. Come and see us, Charles! And keep taking my blog with you on your adventures. I've never been to South Africa, you know....
1 comment:
Badass! Maybe it was the baby drinking beer that did it.
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