Where have all the flowers gone?
10:42 p.m.
Of course, we had to write about them, which kind of ruined the fun, but did give us a topic. A half hour was too long, though, and I got distracted. Sally wrote a beautiful piece about how opening an orange reminded her of her first (and only) visit to Paris. She kept going back and forth between the two images, to very fine effect. We have a smart girl there.
I have good news and bad news with regard to my breasts . I have been losing weight, which is a good and desirous thing, and my breasts are getting smaller, which is also a good and desirous thing. But unfortunately my $112 bra does not fit as well as it did, which is neither good nor desirous. I knew this would happen, which kind of makes me wonder why I plunked down that exorbitant a sum in the first place, but at the time I was desperate and it was so beautiful and was the first undergarment of that nature that had looked good on me in years! I suppose I could follow the late Ann Landers� advice and �stuff with cotton what nature has forgotten�, but we�re not talking about an adolescent girl here, but a mature, soon to be menopausal, full-grown woman. I suppose I could just fold it up in tissue paper and place it in my drawer as a keepsake of boobier times, so I could pull it out when my breasts sag like empty sacks and say to my grandchildren, �Yes dears, I really was a voluptuous vixen in my day!�
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