My best friend, Claire, is in town until Monday and while I was sitting at the kitchen table working, she and Kamel watched Vicky Cristina Barcelona, a movie I really, truly adore.I love Spain, I love the art, I love the sex, I love the effortless travel-wear, I love it.
“I love this movie! I love this place!! I want to live in that house! I want to go to there!!” I said.
“We should go. We should go. We should do this,” said Claire, seriously.
“Oh God,” said Kamel, “the two of you in Spain? You’re not allowed to go alone.” He laughs.”You’re going to end up having a three some with some Spaniard artist.”
“What?! No. We’re going,” I said… “And maybe…” I said.
“Let’s go when we’re 30!” said Claire.
“Ok!” I said.
“No for reals, we’re doing this. I’m not joking,” said Claire.
I laugh. “Is this like the time we decided to go to Vegas? When we were just like ‘Oh em gee! We should go to VEGAS.’ And then we were all like, ‘No. For reals. We’re going. Are we going?’ And then we totally went?”
“Yes!” said Claire, “It’s totally just like that!”
“Oh Jesus,” said Kamel.