Seymour’s Fat Lady

The flights to and from Chicago were relatively uneventful. I took a sedative for the flight out and didn’t take one coming back, and I decided that there’s no point challenging myself on this issue because drugs were invented for a good reason and I should just give in. The return flight was bumpy and I nearly puked from fright. What saved me was flying Jet Blue, which has television, and I found an America’s Next Top Model marathon to watch.

The Joyce Carol Oates book failed to hold my attention. I’ve tried reading a few of her books, and I find her syntax incredibly irritating, which is too bad. Many of my favorite writers love her work. Whenever I read her I find myself craving Margaret Atwood.

Bawled my way through _The Year of Magical Thinking_ and realized many of the books that survived the Great Anticipatory Move Purge have to do with the death of a loved one: What the Living Do, Without, The Accidental Tourist.

Reading Anne Sexton’s letters a long time ago, I came across one that she wrote to a monk, who thanked her for the book of poems she sent him but then returned it, saying he was only allowed to keep three books. I was enchanted, and the idea has guided my thinking about possessions ever since.

The section of Chicago in which my friend Renee lives is called Edgewater. We went to several excellent thrift stores and ate gloriously, as usual:

Thai at Indie sushi bar & thai, 5951 N. Broadway. Try the crab rangoon.

Cupcakes at Chaos Theory Cakes 2931 N. Lincoln Avenue. We sampled the Oaxaca (spicy chocolate–divine), the curry, the chocolate caramel, and the cilantro mint jalapeno mango. I heartily approve of this savory trend in desserts.

Lunch at Hannah’s Bretzel, where I had a salmon cream cheese bretzel.

Ethiopian at a place on North Broadway with “Diamond” in the name–lost the business card–where they served tofu tibs, which I’ve never seen on any menu before and which were fantastically delicious.

Indian at Bhabi’s Kitchen, just off Devon Ave., where I sampled the curried broccoli rabe. Flavor was wonderful but I could’ve done without the texture, which was pureed like palak. I plan to create a curried broccoli rabe roti.

Bellydance Underground was a wonderful event for a good cause, to raise money for Between Friends (www.betweenfriendschicago.org). We debuted Vampian Lespire Cats, which was well received, and had fun ripping out George’s innards and then dancing with them. Thanks George!

We didn’t bring sufficient coverups to mask both our costumes and our headpieces, and so for most of the show we were backstage so as to preserve the mystery of the Voodoo Sisters. We felt unsisterly and regretted that we couldn’t really watch the show. Rocio and her team did a great job organizing, and they plan to make this a yearly event, so I hope we’ll be back next year.