I'm fine, thank you!

These days, it’s hard to come up with something to write about on my blog. Ever since Sarah Palin threatened to sue me (no, she never mentioned me by name, but the implication was pretty specific), I’ve been afraid to write about politics. And now I’ve read about a comedienne who is being sued by her in-laws for insulting jokes. I’m not sure I can ever mention my family again.

So, I should write about my real life? Do you have any idea how boring my real life is? I sleep through a good portion of it as it is. Do you want details of my diarrhea last night? I don’t think so.

I have always loved the quote, “Fuck reality, give me one good fantasy.” I don’t know who said it, but perhaps some of you are getting the direction I am going.

And how was my weekend?

It was glorious. Richard and I flew to Paris on Friday night, caught the TGC to Marseille and watched the opening of Communité Théatre du Marseille’s presentation of Ken Kesey’s “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” I now remember why I never liked the movie, (but the book was pretty good.)

When that was finally over, we caught dinner at one of those trendy restaurants on Rue Braves, then, took a long walk on the shores of the Mediterranean. The moon was glorious, the sand soft and it slowly abraded all the corns and calluses off my feet.

After a wonderful sleep in the Ritz-Carlton Marseille, we awoke to a breakfast of champagne and caviar before renting a car and taking a carefree drive along the steep, winding roads of Provence. (We’re all gonna die!!! We’re all gonna die!!!) We enjoyed the wildflowers, met Chagall, ate delicious foods and ended our day in Avignon. We had a dinner to die for immediately beside the Palais des Papes. There was soft music being played by a string quartet. It was totally amazing.

This morning, we awoke and strolled down to the local boulangerie. After a cup of espresso, a croissant, some delectable cheeses, yogurt and some fresh fruit, we drove back to the airport and flew home.

How was your weekend?