Dears,

After years of writing about keeping brains in jars (Alzheimer’s runs in my family as does an odd way of dealing with it) and documenting a friend’s murder of another friend (insanely gruesome story set in Korea), I am delighted to announce that my next project will be a comedy…of errors.

Ready? Set?

Here we go:

Up next is a memoir about a mermaid undergoing menopause in the Middle East. Navigating a DRY country in a constant sweat. What sticky situations will I get myself into?

You see, I’m 48 and the temperature in Abu Dhabi (where we are going for 10 months) in August approaches 48-degrees Celsius. When your age matches the number on the thermometer, absurdity and hilarity most certainly will ensue. Right?

As if a tall blonde presence on the Arabian Peninsula isn’t ridiculous enough, imagine copious amounts of H20 dripping off said American interloper. Conversely, think of Pig Pen and his traveling dirt pile exploring Atlantis.

I’m eager to learn from the Eastern and Western ladies there about combating external and internal heat sources while retaining some sense of personal style and dignity. Though I hold little hope for rising above my particular situation, which seems appropriately extreme in keeping with my extremist nature.

Fortunately, there are an abundance of air-conditioning units — and freezing cold shopping malls — in the United Arab Emirates. But life between buildings could be a very sweaty business, indeed. I took a long walk with my pal Kelly on Sunday, in cool Vermont with a reading of 70-degrees Fahrenheit. Yet, I was drenched from head to toe, for four hours afterward.

Through the use of a heretofore unknown calculation, it’s evident that I shall be soaking wet within 48 seconds of being outside in Abu Dhabi and I shall remain that way for the rest of the day.

AND EVERY DAY FOR 300 DAYS!

Years can pass without rain in Abu Dhabi. But I’ll be constantly swimming in puddles and pools of my own making.

One heck of a way to make a splash.

Love,

Me