Jessica.

Let’s see. Bit of a wine headache, little bit groggy, and feeling like I spoke all the words ever invented — must have hung out with Jessica last night.

She arrives at my house and it’s like Texas has come for a visit. Always in a patterned skirt/blouse combination absolutely nobody else could pull off. Thick, dark hair that falls from a ponytail in slow motion like a scene from a movie. She acts like it’s no big deal. She’s filled with compliments, but she’s the one who always looks like the woman Sandra Bullock wants to be.

“All right, Miss Pama-lama. What is going on with you?” Continue reading