Let’s list the things I want and can’t have, because that’s fun and healthy:
- longer legs
- thousands of dollars in disposable income per month for clothes
- a bi-monthly trip to Europe (Paris, Prague, Munich, London, Barcelona, and Rome – on rotation)
- internal organs that regenerate every night so I can indulge my vices scot-free
- feet that can handle four-inch heels without pain
- a mint green Vespa (I can’t have this because I would absolutely get pasted onto the side of a bus)
- be best friends with Stephen Fry, P.G. Wodehouse, Dorothy Parker, Fred Astaire, George Plimpton, and David Rakoff, and have them over for dinner weekly
- lots of glamor and very little responsibility
- a metabolism like a bullet train so I can finally have a fettucine alfredo-centric diet
- fluency in the theories of particle physics and epistemology
- a microwave that doesn’t sound like a Zamboni when it heats up my turkey meatballs (I could have this if I didn’t have a fundamental belief that home appliances should cost about $10)
- a castle
- be guest conductor of the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra
- be able to play the shawm (my neighbors would kill me)
- basically be the most interesting woman in the world. With really long legs and undead friends and absolutely incredible clothes.
I can’t have any of that. But I can listen to this song and daydream about it. That’s something.
One thought on “Termagant Tuesday: “Jolie Coquine,” Caravan Palace”
If it’s any comfort, a $120 Keurig sounds like a Zamboni, too.