My good friend Vera was in town last week (or was it the week before last? Jeez.) from Hamburg, Germany, and we hadn't seen each other in five, count 'em, FIVE! whole years. Vera is a true glamorpuss in that she's both super smart AND super foxy. She is a fashionable European intellectual, people. She will whack you upside your head with her Isamu Noguchi knowledge and then blast past you with a crazy scarf-tying technique that no one on 7th avenue has even thought of yet. Watch out, is what I'm saying.
I spent part of the visit trying to learn the real, true way to say "Vera." I say it very American, like V-EAR-RA (with the E like "EEK!"), when it should be more like V-EH-RA (with the E like "EH"). Oh, Veehhhrraa!
One of the many things I admire about this woman is how whenever anyone is about to take her picture, she looks suddenly very serious (and glamorous) whereas I usually look like some sort of demented clown whenever a camera is around. So when we took a picture of us after dinner at Seymour Burton, I tried to drop the silly expressions and go for a more no-nonsense look.
Which didn't work out so well. I look like someone just stole my bike or something. Damn. Now let's see what some smiles on these faces look like. Preferably with as much cheekbone interlocking as possible.
That's better.
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