Jan. 20th, 2009

marvinstwin: (Default)
Transcript of a Skype conversation with my Big Brother:

Me *assuming a countenance not unlike Richard E. Grant's [in that episode of Posh Nosh]* Darling, I have come to the inevitable conclusion that I am old. Man delights not me (especially not that one), nor woman neither. The only things that currently appeal to me are hot chocolate and fictitious relatives, given that my real relatives are a source of nothing but frustration and chagrin.
Me: Oh, and Gaby's right. The Pringles here are stale and revolting.
Me: Christ, I'm turning into Oliver.
[livejournal.com profile] stillprettiest:Italy's Pringles bring all the boys to the yard.

I think we've been old since we were young.

Me: Damn right they're better than ours.

This is true. The difference just seems far more pronounced now. When one has yet to achieve status as any sort of person, premature age and maturity is regarded as a delightful and refreshing eccentricity. Now that I'm actually supposed to be in some manner significant, being a 40 year old woman in the body of someone half that age is seen as being tedious and inconsiderate, a squandering of what little youth I still have left.
[livejournal.com profile] stillprettiest:*blinks* Do I need to remind you that I'm drugged on cold meds? Email that to me, and I'll try to follow it when I can see straight.

I think, honestly, that that about sums it up.


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