I wanted to call this article, Barbarella and Cabana Boy do TJ VIP! , but you can't have everything.
I'm happy enough that this week, beginning this afternoon, my face is on the cover of the San Diego Reader for the FOURTH time. Count 'em. Four.
I'm going to try and find all the cover shots and do some kind of collage. M.s., of course, made this one, where my Cabana Boy (Eddie) and I are bobble heads in front of the Tijuana Cultural Center.
Four. I'm a very happy girl. Now this is some inspiration to finish this fifth story I'm working on. Five sounds even better than four, and it also happens to be my favorite number!
Cabana Boy and I are going to get dressed up and hang out in Hillcrest tonight. After all, he's a star and must be seen!
And I got hate mail today! Somebody got offended by my column last week in which I said I don't do "proletarian work." It's true, I'm not good at any kind of physical work. But darling, that doesn't mean I judge or don't envy those who are. I would have much rather saved that large chunk of change if only I knew I could do a paint job half as good as those men. Capiche?
Great. After all, the title of my column is Diary of a Diva. Not Diary of a Maid. Both of which, if you must know, I deem to be respectable positions in life.