Unreachable like Greta Garbo
Here’s what you never want to do, put your cell phone into the back pocket of your jeans as you’re walking into a public bathroom. Oh, don’t even ask. Okay, I’ll tell you. My cell phone drowned in the most unpleasant of circumstances and even though my right hand leapt into the...bowl...of the public toilet (ewwwww)...to save it, it was too late. My poor Blackberry choked a few times, flickered and then...sadly, turned off, never to turn on again. She is dead.

But wait...this means...

I am free! And what a strange feeling that is. No one can call me. Not even my kids. Or my man. Or anyone wanting to sell me something. Or my mother who is angry with my choice in Presidential candidates and wants to change my mind every 37 minutes. I am unreachable like Greta Garbo (only the cell phone version of her). I am going to take this next week and luxuriate in the fact that I am unencumbered, just like when I was a kid. I may even go hang upside down from a tree (when my leg is feeling a mite better that is).

I am going to think of you all in class this week. And in my dreams, I will slither and crawl and undulate and spin my body into a bliss she is so dearly craving.

Have at it my friends!