Thank you again for the Alpine-themed woolly socks. Sadly, I am still required to wear them, even though midsummer approaches…
* * *
Dear London friend
I am so looking forward to our catch up the weekend after the Bank holiday weekend when you will be in Ibiza, and before I start my trip to Rome. Hang on, I have matinee tickets that day. How about the weekend after my aunt visits and before you start your cycling holiday in Holland. What’s that? Let’s lock in a date in November? Sounds good. Can’t wait.
* * *
I am sorry I missed your wedding / significant birthday / baby shower / engagement party / housewarming / anniversary / divorce party. But really, I expected that your lives would stop while I was away. It seems rude somehow for you to be getting along so well without me – when all I have achieved here is learning how to pronounce Southwark (harder than it looks!) and where the best Kiwi/Aussie cafes are in London. Stop with the momentous events already and let a girl catch up!
All said, with love
* * *
Dear family member
The correct response over here when someone asks you, “You alright?” Is not, “Yes, everything’s fine. Why, does it look like something is wrong. What’s wrong? IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME? HAVE I GROWN ANOTHER HEAD? JUST TELL ME! I’M SURE I CAN GET IT CUT OFF. TELL ME NOW!!!!”
You learn these things the hard way.