Jealous of Julia

I couldn’t finish Eat Pray Love. I was too jealous of the author who got to self-indulge for one whole year and still end up looking like Julia Roberts. I also resented her literary success: she got an advance for going and having all that fun and all I got was this lousy T-shirt as they say.I’m in the land of gelato myself right now as  a matter of fact. Last night I slept like the dead in this Piedmontese hotel which was super-comfy if a tad short on the towels. (You get one bath towel and no washcloths at all.) Still, when it comes to hygiene - and to a nice unsleazy take on sex - the Europeans are light-years ahead of us. When my boy was little he misheard the name of the Chevy Chase movie My European Vacation: "Can we watch My-a-peein' Vacation again?” he used to say.) And speaking of both below-the-belt functions, what these hotel bathrooms do all have are bidets, just in case you’d like to rinse out your doll clothes like my little cousin used to do in the toilets that were all just her height.Well then! Think I'll walk to the shops, maybe trade a few of my own lousy T-shirts for a gorgeous bra and perhaps a pair of killer panties. This is my third time in Italy and it’s true about the food; the lamb dishes alone are so fancy they come wearing little paper panties of their own  Buon appetito to me and to  my seven college pals on this five-day flight from reality.