Hey Ol’ Buddies, Ol’ Pals. Salut mes potes, hola mi amigos, and many other greeting in the languages that elude me!
I said “industrious” just yesterday, describing someone as being far more so than me, so it is quite adorable and irksome, in fact, that the word should be used au jour d’hui to describe me! Fantastique!
The real point of this, dears, is to set up a natural-looking manner for me to share in some wonderful news that trumpets my shift into productive mode:
a) The owner of the Central Market line of supermarkets has hired my services to cater a dinner for him ONCE A WEEK!!! I can cook whatever I want, and ingredients may be shipped from New York, Austin, Houston, wherever. Overnight, long distance, etc; WHATEVER!!! Pretty cool gig, right? And now two more Texan oil-rich socialites have expressed interest in my catering for them. I am turning into a private chef for the gruesomely wealthy of Texas. The modern day characters of Giant! Only, I am not Mexican, so perhaps that is not a great analogy. Also, this man Bobby and his friend Dick have offered me the use of their horses whenever I want. I am permitted to ride them every day, alone and unsupervised (thank god) to roam their 50 acre plot of desert land.
b) I have been taken on as official desert chef of Jett’s Grill.
c) I am baking for the Marfa Farmstand.
I’m a regular Betty Crocker, a baking fiend. Dessert-ing in the desert! Sorry, I just had to! I am a caterer, a baker, AND a waitress. All of which seem to yield unseemly sums of money. I want to buy my house. From my family. I know. But I have long ago and secretly been bitten by the desire-to-buy-a-house-in-Marfa-that-is-un-befitting-of-my-young-age. Now that I am out of the closet, I happily join the rest of the juvenile losers who yearn for property in this vortex of a town!!!
The pointy-point is that I suppose all this does make me industrious. When did this happen? As my sister pointed out, I am a Straight A’s New Yorker intellectual who fell off the face of the earth to become the Martha Stewart (Marfa Stewart, dare I venture? What a sense of wit I have…) of the boondocks of Texas, or the Boonies, as I affectionately refer to them.
Also, my friend in Portland believes she has found my blond soul mate. So we shall make some Aryan/Jewish babies when I go there. With shaved legs, how could he resist?
Leave A Comment