In my family, as in the world, there are some things I can’t have because I’m a girl. You wouldn’t believe how agitated people become when I say this out loud, but I believe it pisses them off because their hearts know it’s true. For instance, after Gigi died a few weeks ago, I told my family (as I’d told them before) that I wished to buy her house. She lived in it for 70 years and it’s just like an opal that’s full of iridescence and rainbows forged by the turbulence of the Earth. Gigi’s long years of work and sadness and good will and spiritual buoyancy made her house perfect. It’s just perfect.