In a good way. So far.
That’s why I am not blogging; I am too consumed with living life. In these short, brilliant bursts that can’t possibly be referred to as “days,” every detail wants to be noticed and fawned upon, from a silk scarf flapping in the wind like a standard to a distant light appropriately filtering through a glass of rosé on the window.
I must, however, report on my meeting with the lovely Helen, a.k.a. the bird of paradox. Have you ever experienced one of those glorious, meandering, hilarious and devastating conversations that basically reaffirm your flagging faith in humanity? I did. Today. In a little place on Fuham Road, during champagne brunch.
Thank you so much for that, Helen. And so sorry for getting lost and being late. It’s like my feet kept carrying me in the wrong direction, desperate for more and more London pavement. The girl can’t help it. Or else her sense of direction just sucks.
Oh, and please accept your fate as an influential blogger. You have no choice in the matter. The case has been closed.