I met Viv twenty-one years ago today.  We'd be celebrating tonight were it not for the fact that yesterday morning she got on an Alaska Airlines MD-80 and flew to Cabo. 

Temptress.

She's on a business trip.  Business is what the studio calls it, anyway.  There may be other terms for having a breakfast meeting at the beach where you watch movie trailers, talk about movie stars, and then end the meetings for the day just in time for lunch.  Then golf.  Or swim.  Or go catch a marlin.  Or pursue any of those other seaside diversions on the company dime.  This hellish cycle will repeat through Thursday.

The last thing she said to me was something about cabana boys, but I didn't quite catch all of it as her driver was pulling away from the curb rather quickly.  Something about not tipping too generously, I'm guessing.

Meanwhile, here at Stately Amaya Manor I'll be commemorating One Score And One this evening by lifting a hearty glass of Nestlé's Quik while insisting for the third time that Amy finish her spelling and math homework.  This will be after I do the dishes and the vacuuming, of course. 

To avoid an evening of complete monotony, my daughter and I will be dining out.  She has chosen a little place not far from here where, she tells me, the bill of fare includes something called Le Repas d'Heureux.  Already, my mouth, she waters.

*****

As luck would have it, my neighbor Mike has taken the day off work.  He is out mowing his lawn right now, and since he is Thorny to my Ozzie, I think I'll just go have myself a neighborly chat in the driveway.  Yes, it's a brief one today, but if length is what you crave, here's a link to last year's anniversary entry, a long and sordid tale of twisted love.  See ya.

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