dear paul mccartney

dear mr paul mccartney,*

last summer, when i nearly ran you over in amagansett long island, you graciously nodded your head and i forgave you for walking a narrow windy road with your wife** and newborn baby. i hoped you would take more care in the future. i am a big fan, of course and would hate for anything to happen to you and yours. or anyone- those roads are not safe. and it's kind of fun for my family to see you around, as you seem like a nice guy and trump all the other celebrities who live in the area by, like, a million.

and yet- i must say this- STAY OFF THE ROADS. i was repeating the tale to my family members- about how i nearly coughed up my stomach when i nearly hit you and then nearly coughed up MY FOOT when i saw who you were- when MY AUNT SAID SHE NEARLY HIT YOU TOO. my aunt, god love her, didn't learn to drive until she was thirty. and i have teenage sisters who drive those roads. and drunk stockbrokers in bmw convertables drive those roads. and rappers in stretch humvee limos who are trying to watch the stripper bj's going down in the back. and pissed off locals who are considering selling thier three bedroom ranches to some rich a-hole from the west coast for 3 mill. PLEASE DO NOT STROLL THOSE ROADS. seriously.

thank you, and god bless,
christina








*i guess it's technically "sir paul mccartney" but doesn't that make you feel old? when people call you sir? i hate it when people call me mamm. i'm a swiss miss!

**didn't she already sufer an injury in a vehicular incident? beeee careful! bzzzzzzz!

purposefully pompous travel log

Villa Il Poggia
Near Cetona, Tuscany

First day here. After nearly twenty hours we ensconsed at Villa Il Poggio. Our driver, Marco, got terribly confused on the tiny winding road to Cetona. The quintisential Tuscan Village high on a green hill. After all my concerns, I am the only one of our party who got substantial sleep on the flight. Thank you black market tranquilizers!

It's pointless to describe the exquisite beauty of the countryside. The house, or raaaather, the villa is extraordinary. Nearly 200 years old* it's at the pinacle of yet another rolling hill ripe with verdant greens and rich browns. Set down with perfect precision in the center of an olive grove, Villa Il Poggio is rustic elegance personified.

While the younger memebers of our party seem to long for their internet (bah!) and cellular (harumph!) services, I, myself, am looking forward to a week out of touch with the day to day. And now, I nap!**

*After chatting amicably with some of the sun and time weathered locals, we discovered that Villa Il Poggio is not in fact of the 18h century. It is, instead a tastefully done replication. Though we were startled and dismayed to learn that Villa Il Poggio was only 40 years old we managed to enjoy our extended stay. My personal secretary shall here my displeasure upon our return!

**On a plump feathered bed fit with sun dried 200 count egyptian cotton sheets, smoothed down by a classically beautiful tuscan maiden.