Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Just call me, Cleo.

Dranga Ponn Pel,

I am sorry I've been out of contact these last umpteen months. There was this little matter of an unplanned vacation, to that new colony world, Egypte! It truly was an amazing break from reality. They dressed me in these outlandish clothes, whatever came to hand basically, and then feted me constantly. Occasionally there were these seemingly endless treks where I'd end up exhausted and, dare I mention the ickness?, all sweaty! But sure as milk is pink on Vefanin, they'd feed me more than enough again.

To this day I still don't know if they were fattening me up for some nefarious purpose of their own, they were the most savage looking people!, but they sure kept plying me with whatever my little heart desired. All, that is, except for new clothes. I had to keep wearing the same ceremonial outfits all the time! Sure, they washed them, in soap and water-- The barbarism!, but a girl gets sick of the same five or six outfits. No matter how much you mix and match, eventually it's all one big yawn. I could have cried from boredom.

Oooooh! Did I mention the big contest that I won? I entered it as a bit of a lark really, and I WON! Can you believe it, DPP? Me? Winning? There wasn't any prize; no sash, cup or crown. However I did win a title: Queen of D Nile. (I wonder if there's an A, B, or C Nile?? I think there's only one Nile isn't there? Ms Frangle, you remember her? My youngest's cosmogeography teacher. She never mentioned more than two Niles last year. D Nile, and that dessicated bed on Earth that it's named after.) Anyway! Everywhere I went, people couldn't take their eyes off me. It was fabulous!

The fabulousness wore off fast when I got home let me tell you. The sunshine there must be different or something. All those clothes that I'd been wearing? Shabby. Cute still, but definitely shabby and ill-fitting. Nasty things that did absolutely nothing for my figure. I am heartily glad to be back home where there's enough clothes to choose what I want to wear.

Darling, I know I promised you a stack of piccies, but in all honesty, I didn't take any over the last six months that you'd want to see. Oh, rest assured there were some, but you know how you feel about me baring my midriff for all and sundry to see. Your sweet, innocent self will not be subjected to such, I assure you. No, there's none of me in those ratty ol' costumes. (praise be!) I've donated the ones that are suitable to be so, and the rest I've given to the manservant. Mind you he assured me they'd be used in only the filthiest of applications or tossed in the rubbish! Well Played, says I!

Enough about yours truly, how was your sojourn to that yoga camp? Did they really teach you that beginner's pose? You know, the one printed on that lovely young man's shirt? I still say he was exaggerating. They couldn't possibly do something so outrageous, even in this day and age! Surely not? Could they? And why would they WANT to?

Anyway, I'm off to the dangle bar with my latest hugglefunp, as soon as he gets here, he's late as usual! But you know I'll forgive him as always; if he looks delectable enough.


Hunca Berninlov.


A couple of weekends ago, Alaskaboy and I went to the video shop to return some borrowed DVDs. This was the same weekend I went on my orgiastic shopping spree through my piles of 'spare' clothes. I was wearing a simple sweater/jumper and a pair of jeans with newish runners. (to clarify: This sweater I got for my birthday last year from my mother-in-law, and I hadn't worn it until then. So, it was still new looking. the 18W jeans had been worn on several occasions, but they weren't faded all that much.) I was definitely not wearing anything spectacular. Just ordinary, everyday autumn-type clothing.

I commented to Alaskaboy on the way out the door, "I feel kinda dressed up."

When we got into the car, he turned and looked me over. "You know, you're right, you do look all dressed up."

Then it hit me. How shabby I must have looked over the last year or so, if just wearing a pair of jeans and a jumper makes both of us think that I'm all gussied up to go somewhere! Then, I looked at my clothing when we got back home. They were indeed hard-worn. And yes I did dispose of most of them. But did keep a few for posterity and some of the lighter 3/4 length pants for nightwear whilst they still fit.

"I musta been Cleo for awhile." I said upon finishing bagging the unwanted stuff.
"Yeah, you know, Cleopatra, Queen of Denial."

And so, another post idea was born. ;)

2 Nibbles:

c2s Hayley said...


Oh surely you are the Princess, for I AM the Queen!

Kada said...

OK, I'll be the princess, as long a sI get to wear a princessy gown. :)