In Which Our Heroine Tackles Life Headlong And With Gusto

Hey! I bet you've all been teetering precariously on the edges of your seats, breathlessly wondering how I celebrated the first 24 hours of my good news, haven't you? Well, ok, I won't keep you in suspense. Before you fall flat on your butts and asphyxiate yourselves, I'll tell you. So far:

• I renewed my gym membership for a rabidly optimistic ONE FULL YEAR, and immediately proceeded to assault the bench press with determined if somewhat wobbly fervor.
  
  
• I courageously signed up for that nude figure drawing class at the nearby college again, even though I know damn well the squeamish models will never ever take off their stupid clothes.
  
  
• And today I walked over to the courthouse and applied for an expedited passport! Yes!

Instead of visiting Mexico City for the Frida hoopla, I've decided to travel down to Michoacan in late October and early November to celebrate El Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead. And I've already made my reservations.

Because the one thing I know for certain about Life is that it's extremely fragile and slippery and ephemeral and short, so being sensible and cautious and practical, eternally putting off all those crazy adventures you've always dreamed of having, is really not a good idea.

Stay tuned: reports on more non-sensible, uncautious, and impractical plans coming soon, to a computer near you!


The author's modest collection of Día de los Muertos bags.


Close-up detail of Alexander Henry's fabulous festive dancing dead people fabric.