Have only just stumbled out of bed!

I neglected also the biography of Lady Wolfe.. but for this.. which I have been authorised to share with you.. could win the Pulitzer..

Sorry Annaleeeeeeeesa for not replying before now.

Have only just stumbled out of bed!

Now.. can you imagine the curiosity of the community??? In shock.. we wait..

THE DATE:

Only joking!

Sorry I didn't report back until now. A busy day's writing in the
library.
And besides, Annalisa, you know I like to make you beg....

So. The date.

It all started well apart from an unfortunate incident with a mascara
wand when I was getting ready, which meant that my left eye was weeping
slightly throughout the night. I had to explain it to her, so she didn't think
that I was diseased. Now she either thinks I am endearingly clumsy (thanks
A : )) or just mal-coordinated.

She, on the other hand, is not mal-coordinated. She is one of those
women who is so fragile and tiny that if one were feeling low on self-esteem,
one might feel a bit like a lumbering cart-horse when standing next to her.
Obviously that wouldn't be a problem for me. Not with my great
confidence and inner poise. Inner poise. Yes. She definitely has that too. She
comes from a slightly bonkers family in Notting Hill, very posh with a
dominating mother (hmm, sounds familiar anyone?). Said mother insisted on her
training as a classical violinist so she went to some weird music boarding school
and then the Guildhall and that was supposed to be her career. Her mother
thought it was suitable for a nice girl. But then she had a rebellion
and decided to throw it all in and went off to study classics at university
instead. ( hardly a leap through in LIFE.. How naughty... from music to classic.. she should be punished!! wouldn't you?? )

Whereupon she fell in love with her Latin professor. Oh yes. Who was
much older than her.

Reader, she married him.

In a huge Greek Orthodox wedding (her father was Greek). ( So she couldn't understand what they were saying.. sad!)

They moved to Cambridge (we realised she was living around the corner
from me) then Oxford, then France, which is where things went tits up. Now, I
am not going to go into the rest of it, because discretion forbids it. She
might not want her whole life story splashed around on the internet. But
there's a story in it, believe me.

We had a lovely night but it was a bit weird. I felt extremely lucky
compared to her, and kind of protective yet intimidated at the same
time. We have a lot in common at the same time as being very very different. I
think being married for so long to a much older man has quite an effect. I
could not, for instance, imagine her dancing at The Cock. Or dealing with
Filippo.
I found myself behaving very well which meant that when I got home I had
to run around my sitting room a few times pretending to be an aeroplane, ( now.. here I was disappointed.. I was expecting.. dancing around in the lounge with green high heels with IPOD plugged in her ears!--not to disturb the neighbours--)
just to let off steam. I did not tell her about the events of the weekend.
She's about as moderate as I am extreme (we only had one glass of wine,
babies, you would be proud of me) but I kind of feel she's about to explode and
go wild. ( She ordered a small white wine glas.. lady W. a great large red one.. ) I mean, she's had to behave for the last 38 years it seems to me.

Could be one of those Michael Hutchence/Kylie moments:

'What's your hobby?'
'Corrupting Kylie.''

The evil part of me thinks that would be a lot of fun. However, one
wouldn't want to end up asphxyiated in a hotel room. Hmm.

But she did show me photos of her children and when she was about to get
off the tube she suddenly lurched over and gave me a big kiss. I think her
small glass of white wine had gone to her head.
( she even hid the cat/ rabbit?? what was it Ober.. and a$$band??)

So there we are. We'll see. But I think I need someone who can misbehave
a bit. Like, for instance, the next date, if I can swing it, with Polly
the PHD student who likes 'dancing in stripy socks and a Trilby and nothing
else' and 'spending Sundays rolling about in bed to a soundtrack of Nina
Simone.'

Now we're talking.....

later, taters,

Vestibule. xx