I'm just wondering if the 4 of you would like to come eat at the Ritz when you come to town? I mean it's not like Alinea or anything, but I'd be like a gineau hen with my chest puffed out if you guys came. But, no biggie. No pressure or anything. Okay, maybe some pressure, but not a lot. Okay. A lot of pressure. Tons of pressure. There's nothing but pressure. It's like of like you're diving with Jacques Cousteaus' son but your air ran out so you have to come to the top without being adequately pressurized and your ears pop and you think your head might explode. It's like that type of pressure. No, wait! It's like when you're in school and it's just before career day and your guidance teacher tells you that whatever you pick for that day will be your destiny forever and ever amen but you never pick anyhting, and so at the last minute you decide to pick being a teacher even though you have no interest in educating people but you do it because everyone in your family was a teacher at one level or another and on some level they want you to be a teacher. Like Nana. YOu know she came to this country when she was just a young girl, and yet she was able to go through the depression and poverty. She got an education, taught schol, married, raised a child (who was insane), owned property, traveled the world and expected great things out of her granddaughter. YES! That's it! I am putting Nana level presure on you. The pressure of the Nana compels you to come to the Ritz. YOu know what? I should go to bed now. Seriously. I'm not well. Poo.
Comments
Sounds like fun.