The Art Of Parties

'I turned to face this saving grace girl. And, damn, one look at her and I knew. It was her. She was the One. As I stood there staring and wondering how I could get her to be mine forever and ever and then some, she laughed the most wonderfully insane laugh and socked Mr. Party Host in the arm- hard, too hard- as if he were in on the joke. I smelled her breath as she laughed. Bergamot and peppermint and just a hint of expensive vodka. She had on this wrinkled vintage Ginger Rogers copper-orange ballroom gown, teetering faux-leopard open-to platform heels, and a rust-colored rabbit fur jacket- an outfit that would have looked like costumed ridiculousness on anybody else, but on her was just right. Her flyaway auburn hair was a tangled mess of a Varga girl updo. Her perfume was incredibly sweet, almost too sweet, like rice milk about to turn. Sorry for the hokey factor, but seriously, that was it; I was done for.

And from that moment forward, everyone else at the party hated us because it was obvious that we were so goddamned perfect- at least together. So they despised us. But they stayed near us. To watch. And listen.'

- Felicia Luna Lemus
'Like Son'

Oh dear, its like when I first obsessed about Zoo Music Girl. Don't know whether I want to be her or have her. Both? Or maybe neither, and the longing is for some other thing entirely...