vegas bums

I had hours to kill reading a book ('The Liars Club'), while I waited to go to the airport and no longer enamored with the gambling, I studied the bums of Vegas outside the window. The ketchup packet eating, beer sharing. Cobbling together smoke buts into a rolled cig. The good times and the drone of the day. And then this beauty shot happened...

spa days

Photo Michelle Zive
"My son, Dev, and I used to sneak into the pool at the Sheraton. We’d park illegally in the snowy lot with our bathing suits on under our winter clothes. We’d call it “going to the Bahamas.” That was our vacation. I was thinking about moving Dev’s bed into my room so we could rent out the other bedroom—grasping at straws, really."

Mary Karr and I share the same notion of what constitutes a vacation. I always brought Nick with because he was such a good cover to sneak into the pools with. I called it a spa day. We would hit the hot tub for 5 minutes, the sauna for 15 and the pool for another 10. Repeat. We hit all the major pools downtown. Here is some sample conversation with other pool guests.
"Where are you visiting from?"
"Actually, we live here."

conceivable distance

I now know my limit is a 20 unit dwelling. Anymore than that and you run into people either too many times or at inappropriate times when you don't want people to see you.

flunk twofer

This last should be a James Bond song.

emily jane white - two shots to the head