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Summer's Going Away Party
Dec. 13th, 2015 08:56 amThe dinner party was a smashing success. The roast was perfection; Grandma Fiore smiled from heaven at the ziti; my one improvised dish – brussel sprouts with bacon in a sauce made of olive oil and maple syrup – was much, much better than it sounds. Everyone stayed till 11. Summer had to be dragged out crying. No trauma involved in the making of those tears: She was genuinely moved. Nobody ever made a fuss over her when she was growing up.
Spring found a job! Some Chinese physicians in Flushing are putting together a Chinese PPO, which I suspect is illegal (though I didn’t tell Spring this), and they hired him to help with the business development. That means his hat gets thrown into the H1 visa lottery.
The H1 visa lottery is incredibly weird. Every year, the gigantic pharmaceutical companies essentially buy H1 lottery chances, which leaves a disproportionately smaller number for lesser businesses. But we’ll keep our fingers crossed.
I tottered off to bed but, of course, I couldn’t sleep. Thus I was forced to watch Escape to Witch Mountain until the wee hours of the morning. When you think about it, Escape to Witch Mountain is a deeply weird movie, plus the little girl grew up to be one of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, you know, the one who’s always getting busted for shoplifting at Target and being intervened upon because apparently she’s now a staggering, shitfaced, falling-on-her-ass drunk – that’s what childhood as a Disney star will do to you.
Speaking of shitfaced – I woke up this morning feeling incredibly hungover. Which is odd because I don’t remember drinking that much.
Shortly I will try to remedy this hangover by going out and exercising in the (ulp) 60-degree weather.
I also need to subsist on nourishing broths, dry biscuits, and balsamic vinegars over the next few days since I’m feeling quite bloated.
It’s horribly grey and overcast, and has been for days, but nobody but an orchid can complain that it’s too cold.
Spring found a job! Some Chinese physicians in Flushing are putting together a Chinese PPO, which I suspect is illegal (though I didn’t tell Spring this), and they hired him to help with the business development. That means his hat gets thrown into the H1 visa lottery.
The H1 visa lottery is incredibly weird. Every year, the gigantic pharmaceutical companies essentially buy H1 lottery chances, which leaves a disproportionately smaller number for lesser businesses. But we’ll keep our fingers crossed.
I tottered off to bed but, of course, I couldn’t sleep. Thus I was forced to watch Escape to Witch Mountain until the wee hours of the morning. When you think about it, Escape to Witch Mountain is a deeply weird movie, plus the little girl grew up to be one of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, you know, the one who’s always getting busted for shoplifting at Target and being intervened upon because apparently she’s now a staggering, shitfaced, falling-on-her-ass drunk – that’s what childhood as a Disney star will do to you.
Speaking of shitfaced – I woke up this morning feeling incredibly hungover. Which is odd because I don’t remember drinking that much.
Shortly I will try to remedy this hangover by going out and exercising in the (ulp) 60-degree weather.
I also need to subsist on nourishing broths, dry biscuits, and balsamic vinegars over the next few days since I’m feeling quite bloated.
It’s horribly grey and overcast, and has been for days, but nobody but an orchid can complain that it’s too cold.
