bedroom bridget jones's diary helen fielding bathroom the family markowitz allegra goodman car/walk quarantine jim crace
office up r.e.m. car breakheart hill [book-on-tape] thomas h cook living room the sci fi channel
brand x the message came from out of the blue: Brand X welcomes you into its clutches.
1999 may 04
slovenly
i almost said slatternly but i've lost my sluttish edge as i've grown older.
i was looking down at myself whilst in the computer chair and i realized my posture has gone all to hell and all those admonitions from my grandmother to sit like a lady have had no effect. i slump. i sit with my legs sprawled in front of me, usually open instead of discretely closed. i lean back as far as i can in the chair, which is pretty far as it is about to break in two, my head lolling to the side and type at an angle. i also have a rather bad habit of walking around half dressed, giant flannel shirts sliding off my shoulders, cotton panties and sometimes socks. it might have looked alluring when i was sixteen, but now i expect i just look like one of those before photos. or the posterchild for women who have let themselves go.
i hate that phrase, let yourself go. when i stopped shaving my legs and underarms ten or more years ago, my sister was horrified and sent mail to my mother telling her how i had let myself go. well if that translates as freedom, baby, then i guess i did.
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there aren't enough tiaras in the world.
i've always wanted one. i think i could be as slovenly or slatternly as i liked and, if i had a tiara, i would still be a lady.
gene has finally gotten used to my running around sans clothing. and he thinks i am a princess even without the tiara. i don't think he would classify me as a lady, though.
la di da, claire
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