Naughty Letters to Ms. Mac

Countless noble souls (and many fluffy kittens) sacrificed their lives during the making of this blog. We think you will agree they were worth it.

Friday, February 01, 2008

Dear Flame-Haired Hot Stuff,

Firstly, let me apologise for my neglect of you yesterday. I was simply not in any mood to do anything yesterday after I went for a walk. Can you ever forgive me? Of course, I was itching to see your new do and so I was delighted to have a glimpse of it last night when you finally posted your glamour shots. Hoo-hah! If I weren't already married! What a complete and utter triumph. I hope the new baby is a delight for your hairdresser but also secretly hope that having one baby will put her off having another so that she doesn't leave you in the lurch like that again. The cheek!

Coffee with Sylv was delightful. Sylv and I also met another blogger who is new to Z├╝rich and all of her charms so we had a good old gab-fest down in the depths of Starbucks for a good couple of hours. After Sylv and I had farewelled India, we walked down Bahnhofstrasse to catch our trains home when all of a sudden, Sylv stopped and started speaking to someone. That someone turned to me and said something along the lines of, "Oh my god, are you Ms Mac? How wonderful! I read your blog every day! Can I have your autograph? Can I have a photo of us two? Wait, I'll get my mobile out....." It turned out to be Sylv's favourite neighbour (FN) who she refers to frequently in her blog and who has commented on my blog a couple of times. Actually, it didn't go down quite like that but he did ask, "And so you must be Ms Mac!?! I wondered if I ran into Sylv today would I get to meet Ms Mac!" and I felt a little bit like a celebrity which was weird. No, actually, If I'm totally and completely honest with you it felt fucking awesome! Remember how we felt that time Tilda Swinton recognised us in Hediard that day? Just like that.

Many congratumalations on your 6th subscriber for January. Never mind the French bitch and break out the Veuve Clicquot, I say. Champagne was invented for such moments of victory. Did I mention that I have two bottles of the lovely bubbly just sitting in my fridge, waiting for you? Oh, I was planning to make a special visit to see you again this summer in my head last night and then it suddenly came to me that you'll be buggering off to NZ this summer won't you? There won't be no time for me in between all your lovely native family and friends. I haven't been more disappointed since the last time I answered the phone and it wasn't George Clooney on the other end, asking me to marry him.

Oh well I bear it bravely. I'll get over my disappointment. No doubt, far sooner than I should.

I should get going now. I have an appointment with Dr Lovely Arms this afternoon so I need to start getting tarted up for him. Yes, he is that gorgeous. I was telling Sylv and India on Tuesday that having a doctor this young and gorgeous is a strange thing for me. For the first time ever in my life, this a GP who makes me feel as though I should go to a gynaecologist for my smear test/pap smear for fear of sullying our relationship by giving him a glimpse of my tired, old lady-garden. Also, he gets to have a feel of my boobs (something Aussie Doctors never did) and I couldn't be held responsible for my thoughts/actions after such an occurrence, I am sure.

Yours for ever, with pervy love and pumpkin patch kisses,



Post a Comment

<< Home