Wednesday, April 13, 2005

oh dear god


Let me have merchandise in support of my work.

Tiny anatomically correct dolls? Red press-on nails imprinted with words? High heels full of marbles? Barrettes?

Right now I want more than anything to live in a big, sunny, paid-for house with a wrap-around porch and old wood Pottery Barn insides and ferns and trees and a dock in a small town near a city with my husband who is not too old and is smart and has known me since childhood, and have children who are neat and extraordinary, and an inside dog that does not shed and two inside cats who also do not shed, and a piano, and suppers of bread bowls, and spend my days writing novels and reading novels, and walking to markets, carrying a string bag full of baguettes and flowers, and teaching one class one class alone (writing) to someone or some group of someones really deserving, and knowing everyone in town, and having a bike with a bell, and riding it without looking stupid, and drinking wine with neighbors in the evenings (the neighbors are physicists!), and having evenings which are long and warm and feature jelly jars of bugs and fireworks and sparklers and show tunes and sashes, yes all of this stuff can be fit in a jar, and setting the jar on my windowsill to look at it all night (in the morning, it will be empty, having escaped) and going to bed every time exhausted.

Please can I buy a piece of THAT?

P.S. There are many pictures of beautiful cakes.