strike that

(blessed)

Kira got married in 2000. Cara was her maid of honor and I was her bride’s maid. Cara and I conspired to arrive at the reception – the reception that Kira had been crafting since she was approximately three years old, with perfect flowers and little silver picture frame place cards and marzipan fruit – in our appointed dresses, but with fishnets and biker boots. In summary, I like Cara quite a lot. (Surprisingly Kira still likes us both, too.)

Cara happens to be in town this week visiting her dad, so she and her friend Molly came over tonight and invited us out to dinner. They invited us out to fondue.

Now, when I say I have good luck, this is what I mean. Not that I sometimes pull into a parking space with a loaded meter, though I have that kind of luck too. What I mean is that I theatrically and arbitrarily equate Quebec-loss sadness with fondue-loss sadness in my blog, and seven days later in Virginia I get invited to fondue. In Virginia. In a country where I have had fondue a total of one time, ever.

My good luck operates on a cosmic level that I do not begin to understand.

Anyway, we ate fondue. Cheese fondue and chocolate fondue and lots of wine, and it was delightful.

posted by tortaluga @ 1:30 AM