Wherever should a happy girl begin, most especially when she can't stop?
I caught some little fish, some big fish and splashed about the coast, darling, all to my delight. Andrea says that you can feel quite guilty about the past, apprehensive about the future, but only in the present can you act. The ability to be in the present moment is a major component of mental wellness. And my darling, Andrea being a man of many wise words tells me that I am the healthiest girl he's ever come upon in this respect.
Well, I do love my moments, but how could I not? They're all so splendid that I'd be a fool to let a one of them skate by and me miss a beat. It was so sincere of him to find me a healthy delight, but looking at my beautifully tanned feet with painted red toenails in these white Pucci sandals seems to me the epitomey of health, glowingly so, you know? Exuberance and elation in my tanned little toes.
And darling, Andrea simply had exhausted all my pleasures that I felt it time to bid him farewell and reach for my next moment: My Queen's horses in distress in N. Ireland. So, with a kiss in a rush I promised to meet up with him in France so we could continue on with Inspector Clouseau who seems insistent to finish his story and I find it the least I could do for such an odd little man. He's such the pestor, you know? Fiona and a brother are dead, but he just can't seem to let it go. Perhaps he's got his heart's sleeve on receiving a medal of some sort from the King's Ms. Bruni for his tenacious attitude in cracking his first big case. The poor dear, I doubt he's aware that the King is a fraud and Ms. Bruni's to be found at the shopping mall. Oh, wouldn't that be the laugh if she were to pin him at the top of the escalator on her way down.
Certainly every man deserves his moment in the sun and seeing as how the Inspector tried so to reach me on the Amalfi coast and received no invitation to join me by the sea, as I simply refused anything that spoke of the past or future, I feel compelled somewhat to make the little man happy. His cablegrams have become rather annoyingly tart and pathetic in that I believe he finds my behavior obnoxious in denying him the luxury of lounging beside me, which seems to have caused him to become quite frustrated with me. Anyhow, he still must wait as my focus is on the racetracks, which I seem to have solved with no difficulty and much grace. If only he were as good as ME. But, then I'm not looking for a medal now am I? That always puts a twist on things in a most distressful way. People seem to go bloody mad looking for their moment instead of absorbing the one their in.
Lizbeth and I joined for tea after my survey of her beloved horses' plight. I explained to her in simple terms that the racing industry needed only a 69 billion bailout to stop the horses from dying and the commoners from eating them. She found it a swell idea. We both agreed that should gambling industries such as banks receive bailouts then so should the horses. Sixty Nine billion in bales of hay. Smashing idea, isn't it darling? Bailouts for bankers, baleouts for horses. Seems quite fair to me. Everyone is happy with a BALEOUT OF HAY, even the jockeys. Gambling is gambling, whether it be the bankers' office or the horses' track. It just wasn't so hard, you know. Just a bit of common sense is all.
Oh, darling, how I'd love to go on and on with all the wonderful things I've been up to and down to, but I haven't the time as I've got to type my story on the corona no. 3 and wire it to the Post before Lizbeth and I take in entertainment this evening. I think we'll spend the time in her chambers painting landscapes of horses all the while laughing over my stories of all the horses' asses I had to interview to come to my conclusion that a bailout would solve all the world's problems. Well, darling, I might just be as smart as Mr. O. How we're going to change the world and all, you know?
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game
As he now obviosly agrees with my assesment on that waterboarding fiasco that he let run wild before he reined it in. But don't say you read it in my Post article, for I'd hate to show that I was out of the starting gate first. I'm not a gambler. Just a simple girl with a bit of common sense. I'll never understand why people get themselves all worked up over nonsense. Oh, because they're the neurotics sitting behind you, in front of you and to the left of you. You simply ignore them is all and go about your day, you know? Otherwise you'll get caught in their trap of insanity which will put you to taking antidepressants to deal with what garbage they've thrown on your shoulders. Simply throw it over.
The public would never know to look at her, but damn my Queen's rather savy and has quite the perfect sense of humor. She just doesn't much care for children is all. And where's the harm in that? If not raised with certain detachment they become quite the little beasts and grow up to stamp about demanding attention. How dreadful, but it's too true. All one must do is look at the closest neurotic adult sitting next to you.
I'll dash you again as soon as I can. Please do forgive my lack of communication. I promise it shall happen again, as life's so big and simply just never ceases to amaze me.
Darling, darling, darling, you'll never believe where my leather gloves turned up. In my Kelly handbag wrapped round my loaded gun tied with the red ribbon from the Aston Martin's antenna. I didn't spill a word of it to Andrea as I wish to have all the secret developments drop splendidly in my lap before I begin the fun of figuring all of it out or in or in or out or in or out or in and out.
-Jacqueline
postscript:
We're goin to Habana, yeah, yeah, yeah.
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