sex ex post facto

These past few weeks I've been negotiating the fragile economy of the familial and the strange. I barely know my extended family but lately I've being seeing them a lot, relatively. My mother has dreams that someone is suing us, they just keep suing us, it's unreasonable, what does it mean? After my grandmothers go to bed we have long talks about marriage, tax, how women can't have it all. I know the entire corpus of community property.

Last night we saw "Sex and the City" with my cousine gamine. Mom liked it because the girls are Just Like Us: they buy expensive shoes, but they check out library books! After her nth glass of wine I was as short of temper as she was short on temperance and unleashed a half-hearted but full-throated invective about how the film was nothing but a delivery system for commodities (clothes, bodies) and how Miranda failed to "read Steve like a text," because people aren't made up of pros and cons but rather of prose and cons ("aw sweetie you made a little joke! good for you!"), i.e. texts and performances...at which point my mom muttered, "Everything is a text to you, isn't it," in the same tone in which she said I wouldn't appreciate "Eat, Pray, Love," because I haven't lived enough. Tomorrow I'll probably see the movie again and try to take a surreptitious camera phone picture of Warren Buffett's house, again.

Now on to sports: Lakers and Celtics, like the old days!