I’m off to Istanbul. People keep telling me, “Don’t die.”
As if I’ll get caught up in the Syrian conflict or the ongoing fight against radical extremism. Or maybe they think I’ll get hit by a truck.
Those things might happen, but what’s the alternative? Stay home and be a middle-aged white woman who fears everything and nothing in particular?
Here’s what I know: American women are much more likely to die from gun violence at the hands of middle-aged white men than ISIS. Husbands and partners kill more women than Daesh. And if your hubby wears Vineyard Vines, all I’m saying is you better run.
So I’m off to Istanbul with my work-wife, Jennifer McClure. Do you love me? Do you owe me an apology? Want to confess your secrets? Now is not the time to bother me. I’m doing some last-minute packing.
Talk to me when I get back.