A little while ago, I wrote about a particularly embarrassing moment in Santa Barbara in 2012, involving Alan Parsons and my cleavage.
But that wasn’t the weirdest thing that happened that day.
Melissa and I had just finished a conference–I had given a presentation on a writing assignment I’d invented.
We had a day to play before we headed home, so we went to a mission and then on to wine tasting.
(The mission was where Juana Maria was buried–she is the real person The Island of the Blue Dolphins was based on.)
In the chapel of the mission, we came upon a statue of Mary Magdalen (the women misidentified as a prostitute in most contemporary churches).
Melissa said I would make a good Mary Magdalen. So I started singing “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” from Jesus Christ Superstar.
And we went about our day.
At one point, my mother called, but I let it go to voicemail, since we were out and about.
When we finally made it back to the hotel room after our long day, I checked the message she left.
She didn’t say anything.
Instead, the entire message was her singing the beginning of “I Don’t Know How to Love Him.”
“Oh, no!” I exclaimed to Melissa. “Can she read my mind? That’s dangerous.”
Karma on the Beach
Melissa on the beach
The Monkey in Santa Barbara
PS–This event remains unexplained. Mulder and Scully should get on it.
