Her mother was an immigrant from Tanzania. At the time of her birth, her mother was trying her best to learn the English language. So, when she was born, her mother decided upon her favorite English word as a name for her daughter: Fabulous.
And Fabulous really was just that. Her frizzy hair flew above her head, accented, but not in any way hampered by, a jeweled headband. Soft, dark eyes beckoned to the world from beneath thick lashes. Freckles peppered her wide nose, and her full lips smiled at those with whom she accidentally made eye contact. She wore an attention-grabbing, asymmetrical scarlet coat, and her feet nestled into a pair of pumps that Lady Gaga would kill for. Her fellow commuters could not help but stare admiringly. Fabulous was undoubtedly the Princess of the Purple Line, the Flower of the CTA.
But Fabulous’ name was not restricted to her surface. She was naturally intelligent, effortlessly charming, and quietly funny. She was a hard worker, but was just as dedicated to play. She was a loyal friend. She attended law school, and volunteered at an animal shelter. Fabulous was ephemeral and totally solid at the same time. A paradox. A rarity. A delight.
This weekend was totally nuts. Had friends in from out of town. Went out a lot. Ate way too much food. Gogo danced on Friday night in an outfit that we deemed "Moroccan Fantasy Barbie." It was fun, though now I am quite tired. Second meeting of Drivel & Wit Chicago tomorrow. I'm pretty excited about that. Also, if you're interested in reading some of the stories that didn't make it into Machine of Death 2, someone has set up a tumblr where people can publish their rejected stories. It's kind of fun! I think I'm going to submit mine at some point.