I had this wonderful dream last night that Lupita Nyong’o and I decided to hole up together for the holidays, and she let her hair go gray but I still wouldn’t. Instead of debating it, we watched old Barbara Stanwyck movies and ate really big bowls of the best stew my dream brain could imagine and admired everyone else’s Christmas decorations from my window while nestling beneath layers of fur and velvet and drinking pots of tea. I can now attest to the fact that Lupita is fantastic downtime company, at least in my fevered unconscious. I think I seized upon her because she is in my extended friendship circle, is that rare star who doubles as an extraordinary actress (usually performers are one or the other), and is a genius self-starter who makes everything shine with integrity and beauty, which is something I aspire to do. Goddess knows she awed me in the Public Theater production of Eclipsed, which just so happens to be directed by one of my most brilliant friends.
Also I’ve decided to stay home for the holidays once again. I’ve become convinced that Winter Solstice’s glamour is best kept cozy and far from the madding crowd so I am currently only filling my holiday dance card with local, warm, and sparkling sort of company (aka the oddest sort of champagne). And on that note, I pad back to my home office–emphasis firmly on the office until I cross the finish line and can wash this wonderfully worky year out of my hair. P.S. Call me direct on my princess phone, Lupita. Analog is glamour incarnate, don’t you know.