WILMA, I'm Home

The outer bands reached Miami this morning; the reach and power of this storm makes us gasp. I feel for the residents of Cozumel upon which I lived for six months, and I know how little protection that beautiful island had. My, I hope all those people, especially my neighbor Beatrice, got out.

The City of Miami Beach just sent TWO Code Enforcement members with a notice and the overpaid, overweight employee basically told me that The City was advising us that they would be advising us. Why can't I get a job with The City and stop living this madcap life; I'd be great at advising people that I'm going to advise later in the weekend. I'd even notify them that I'm going to notify them.

The Countess Bedelia advised against wearing a hoop skirt in this wind; I'm thinking more along the lines of a sleek Ester Williams Catalina swim suit, lime in color with a mango-hued swim cap. There would also be the floor length lilac terry robe. Two nights ago, one of our waiters suggested that a giant dinosaur might break out of the gulf waters and EAT Wilma.
That was logical enough for me to have hope, too.