Jean-Carl is my European lover. We do everything together. We drive around in his Porsche. Sometimes I drive. When I'm with Jean-Carl, nothing matters. We stop and have breakfast at a chichi cafe. It doesn't matter that the poached eggs are $12.99. Jean-Carl takes care of it. I don't even have to think about it. "Let's stop and get some clothes." "Okay." Jean-Carl and I go to G-Star Raw, Juicy Couture, and Hermes. Everything is very expensive. We buy lots of clothes. It doesn't matter how much money we spend because Jean-Carl is from Europe and has more money than I've ever dreamed of. "Let's have lunch at the Four Seasons." "Okay." Nothing matters when I'm with Jean-Carl.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
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Reminiscing about their senior trip:
L: "Do you remember that waiter at the little cafe in Paris? What was his name?"
(upper-class, thirty-something, Mercedes Benz-station-wagon-driving women exchange knowing glances)
C & L: (in unison) JEANLUKE!
C & L: (sorority-girl-esque laughter)
(C & L enjoy more powdered coffee drink beverage)
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