No, I haven't been on vacation. Wish I had been. The weather has been so screwy for the past few days that my wifi connection has been molasses slow or none at all. No wifi, no blog. I hope someone out there missed me.
First, the cold. I hate the beach when it's cold. Never thought I'd say that. Ever. That I hate the beach. But I've never been here when it's cold like this. I'm trapped in three dinky rooms and the beachy decor is getting on my last nerve. The wind has been howling like a hurricane, so I can't even find respite on the balcony. Last night the wicked wind was blowing the lounge chairs around like matchsticks downstairs, white-capping the pool, and sometime during the night turned over a porta-john in Hurl Rocks Park next door. Haven't heard anyone yelling, so I guess no one was in there when it turned over. The icy wind was howling through my front door so bad last night, I had to seal myself in with masking tape. I shouldn't complain. Mama said it was eight degrees at her house in Missouri yesterday morning. But I'm going to complain. I can't beachwalk, so I've got to do something.
Now to the sad. I am devastated by the loss of Whitney Houston. She was a beautiful woman, a brilliant talent, and a true diva in the best sense of the word. But beyond that, she felt like one of us. A screwed-up sister that fell down, picked the wrong guy, made bad decisions, and embarrassed herself sometimes -- just like I've done, just like a lot of us have done -- but somehow had the courage and strength to stand up and go on. And she faced all this with the media in her business 24/7. Wish they would leave her and her family alone now. I'm sorry, Whitney, for all the sadness in your life. But that's over now. Go in peace. The rest of us screwed-up sisters will keep moving forward with the spirit in your music leading the way. You won't be forgotten. Ever.
No comments:
Post a Comment