I dream of gracefully cruising down Venice’s Grand Canal, waving to tourists at St. Mark’s with Bradley Cooper as my gondolier while I bask in the Venetian breeze wearing a gauzy creation of silk and linen that flows gently and makes me look utterly thin, waiflike.
I dream of trekking in Kathmandu with fresh henna designs traced on my hands while marinating in patchouli as I tuck my wavy, braided tresses into a hand-woven beanie. Funny, the path to the Himalayas is clear, the ...
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