I had that dream again. The one where I have seven long blond hairs growing out of my face. Three or four inches long and on my cheeks, close to my nose. When I pull them it hurts quite a bit. I ask Rosamond "When on earth did I grow these!?"
She simply replies that I have always had them, and that she has gotten used to my shaggy self.
All those hours in front of the mirror and I never noticed?! I realise that I have no awareness of self image and awake suddenly. What a horrid dream. Truly horrid.
We are, Rosamond and I, getting quite giddy about the upcoming trip to The Mayan Riviera. Rosamond has never been any place warm, and I am thoroughly enchanted with these mystical "swim-up bars" I have heard so much about. What a novel concept, aperitifs and inflatable turtles. Hilarious!
I suppose the challenge now is merely to pass the next two weeks without murdering any of the little beasts that infest my daily life. I am finding it increasingly difficult, however, to be my fabulous self when I am continually sneezed upon. Loathsome creatures. Why must people breed? And why must they send their dripping progeny to me for guidence?
It is true that my leadership and tutelage is helping to shape the world of tomorrow. And it is true that I delight in having my voice echo through the generations, but I am starting to wonder if their isn't an easier way than actually having be near the children to do so?
Keep me abreast of any news,
Yours in all that is gorgeous,
Miss. Creant
Saturday, January 15, 2005
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