Raiders of the Lost Art

Bubba & Fi's daughter Marina, through really teeth-clenching circumstance, lost her portfolio. That is to say, she lent it to a teacher, who promptly lent it to another student, and there the trail grows cold. The student claims to have given it back to the teacher, and the teacher has no recollection of this. It's even possible that a school janitor gave it the toss.

What makes the scenario extra frustrating is that since Marina decided to go for early admission at F.I.T. (the contradictorily named "Fashion Institute of Technology," which always sounded a bit to me like "The Madrasa for the Study of Comparative Religion," or something equally odd - but I digress), which means that, if the portfolio does turn out to be irretrievably lost, she has roughly two weeks to do enough work to fill a new one to meet the deadline. Whoo!

Thing is, I'd almost consider it a blessing - the idea of being relieved of the burden of a back catalog of work can be very stimulating for an artist. And I am confident that she can make an even better portfolio than the one she lost, seeing as how far a young artist's skill can advance in just a short time. I know that she'll come out of a very trying two weeks with some very stellar work.

Beyond just sounding delusional, how do I know this? Because it happened to me. Twice. Ah, but these are stories for tomorrow, since it's 1:30, I'm half-asleep, and Bubba and Fi just left fifteen minutes ago, abandoning a seemingly endless game of Trivial Pursuit.

How do I know it's late? Because when I went to type out 'stories for tomorrow,' I spelled the last word 'tomwworoww.' So: yes. Night-night. For my tales of portfolio loss and life-lessons learned, please twoon iwn tomwwowwroww.

D.