My Father the Drug Dealer

I received a morse code… –…) from Talia the other day, or so I thought. When I read the SMS it said,

Ditt kontantkort är slut… fyll på innan du kan ringa mer. Mvh Telia.

Oh well, I’m down to 0.08 (zero) SEK on my mobile phone Subscriber Identity Module (SIM) card; however, the phone company “we-love-the-ballgame-Monopoly”, Telia, will shortly not have to send me any more text messages, for I have recently switched to Parlino.


According to the impressive salesman, it would supposedly just take “two weeks” for the contract and administration to go through, so any time now… I will keep you posted. What can go wrong with a company that gives their clients a florescent lime green garden gnome (GN)? Besides, I have been amusing myself with moving the GN around our garden in true Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amelie Poulainstyle.

Hubby “WOW” Zaman was getting worried for a while, but 20 month-old Elton calmed him when jumping as high as someone who looks like a three-year-old possibly can, whilst reaching for the GN trapped in the bird-house. Better than being a GM. Any day now, my dears, and you shall find a post-card with the simple phrase,

Greetings from St.Petersburg.
Love, GN.

Ah, I love it every time I can tick off another box on “Maria’s dream list”. It’s been a while since last, which worries me a bit. ENOUGH dreaming of TELIA. I much rather dream of my belly-dancing genius TALIA. Here’s another Maria secret. I like to hang out with people who impress me. What impresses me?

I can bet you almost anything that with my GN paragraph, Talia would be thinking “Angers’ Veggie Santa!”. Nope, my last night in Angers was hardly it, sister. As often happens when you start hanging out, you ask what your parents do (I’ve stopped). It’s a question that for some reason has always caught me off guard. To this day I don’t understand it but I told Talia that my father is a drug dealer. I wasn’t far off the mark for he works for a company which, in my opinion, has one of the best slogans in the world, namely “PhaSeal: Protects those who care“. In other words, he’s selling closed-system drug transfer cannulas. To go off on a 56-word tangent, these cannulas are favourable when administering antibiotics and cytotoxic drugs. Let’s spice things up even more. Statistically my oligoastrocytoma supposedly isn’t suitable to treat with cytostatics, so wish me luck when I head off for the magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) 4-6 months from now to see if the radiation therapy has worked. Sweet JC!

Anyway, back to the story, it wasn’t until some weeks(?) later whilst a group of us were shopping in Angers’ Super Monoprix that I realised Talia had believed me all this time. I was in the process of picking out a poubelle “to stash the drugs” that Talia asked, “the ones your father provides you with?” I was dumbstruck whilst the realization hit me that this girl had thought all along that my sweet ol’ Dad was in the drug trade. We’re not talking pharmaceutical business like my own, we’re meaning true George “Blow” Jung, Medellín Cartel-style! But most importantly, she had still hung out with me all that time and to this date. Think of your reputation, girl!

I don’t think she will mind me showing the below YouTube video I found, which is part of my very own Bowling for Columbine promotion campaign.



  Talia wrote @

Oh Hurrraaahhh!!! Girl you just made my night!!!

a) Your father is truly the nicest drug dealer I have ever met!

b) What, you like Amelie too? I have the coffee table book, the music, the movie, I lived in her street for almost a year! All this time we were having parallel loves, you and I.

c)I am totally giddy right now that you have brought back all those memories of the wonderful way our friendship started

d) Bowl and keep on bowling! That movie was so hard for me to watch, and my country is so hard for me to defend. But on the other hand, I find comfort in the fact that it is the very same country that raised Michael Moore and shaped his ability to craft this truly moving piece of work. So yeah! Long live the MM!

And whatever, we Americans have SO much to learn. Shake it on up!

Love you and your drug family. Just keep your poubelle clean and don’t lose your keys in your purse 😉


  skablifrisk wrote @

Didn’t I end up going to the police in the end? I had totally forgot about the “Maria loses her keys in her own handbag incident”. Did I tell you that I was pick-pocketed in Paris and since that day not been able to relax at McDonald’s? I was at a Book Café today (that you would LOVE) sitting outside with someone who I hope to introduce you to one day. I just couldn’t let go of my handbag during my five hour conversation, constantly scared of being pick-pocketed. There were so many strangers walking by, looking at us. Any one of them could be after my handbag. Do you know how to dance the Jitterbugs?

  Talia wrote @

Yes! And your going to the police was one of the pieces of the story that had me convinced the drug dealing part was real! 😉

I did eventually learn how to jitterbug when I got back from France in 98! Went to many fun swing parties where the spring-loaded wooden floor would actually bounce in time to 100 people dancing! Amazing.

And then I didn’t do any swing dancing for a while. And when I was living in Paris I learned how to salsa dance, partly with Aude and Benoit. Partly because of my brother (long story).

Just two nights ago I was at a party with a killer salsa band, and I hadn’t danced in MONTHS, but some great dancer asked me to dance and we tore it up! It was so much fun.

Oh and I DID end up doing more belly dancing a few years ago. I practiced with a troop for about a year but quit when grad school started. The best part about that story was the one time we did a performance, my top fell off.

I’ll teach you how to do all of it, though, the salsa, the swing, the belly (maybe not the topless bit).


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