Lazy Ramble

I started this weeks ago but then got distracted by life ^_^.
<3 you all
Xx

Aloha...
I know I've been trés lax about my posts since going back to uni but as I'm waiting for a R to arrive and come spend some quality time with me this weekend (and bring me up my shoes, SERIOUS tragedy when those were all left at home!!) I thought I'd pass the time by writing here. Means I don't have to get out of bed from watching Vampire Diaries. Oh so cool.
But yeah... this is a little fiction that I wrote during the summer...

Joanna peered out the window mentally preparing herself for the ordeal ahead. She had folded her arms across her chest, the cigarette enmeshed between two of her fingers as the frustration of her mundane life once again came to the forefront of her mind. Sighing, Joanna took a final drag of the cigarette and flicked it towards the ash-tray, emblazoned with the intertwined C's of glamorous Chanel. Vintage, of course, no longer was smoking seen as a fashionable past-time. She slunk towards her desk, papers creating a dilapidated barrier between her and the keyboard of her computer and proceeded to shuffle the unnecessary mess into disorganised piles. Free at last the keyboard gleamed with anticipation, willing Joanna's meticulous nails to type it into life.

Sweeping the mouse across its pad the screen beamed into life, a tunnel of light causing a rue smile across Joanna's face. Three precise clicks later Joanna had now entered the virtual world where she was that pristine, sophisticated, epitome of elegance that she tried so hard to maintain and waited to see who had taken the time to inform her of the world's goings-on.

The usual emails ensued;

Sue, the editor of Grace, the magazine that she worked for, had forwarded the usual end-of-the-month paranoia's. Thankfully this didn't need a reply; Joanna knew that civility was no longer present in her demeanour and that would definitely come out in an email, even if it was unintentional.

Frank, her eldest son, had updated her on his mundane job in a bank, somewhere. Joanna knew that she should find it touching that he liked to keep in touch, but honestly at the age of twenty-seven you'd think that he'd be glad to relieve himself of his parents. How could her sons be more different? Joe was somewhere in South America following some Incan trail and had reported back last month with a few words congratulating her and Simon for their 29th wedding anniversary.

Speaking of Simon, his email confirmed her trip to France to meet up with him in four days. He hoped that she was not feeling alone and that the weather was not getting to her, soon she would have the well-deserved break away from work. Apparently the weather in Southern France was windy but warm.

'Married for nearly three decades and we still talk about the weather,' Joanna muttered to herself, 'some things will never change,' the rueful smile had yet to abandon the bemused look that gave small hints of past memories in her shining eyes.

She scrolled down to the next emial; Magda had written reams about her latest beau, a thirty-something entrepreneur who had invented some sort of machine-washable mobile or the like. Joanna smiled and pressed 'print', preparing to save the entire monologue for when the wind was really holwing and she needed cheering up with her cup of tea and the latest drama.

With the more familiar emails out of the way Joanna was now ready to trawl though the emails that paid for her extravagant living. Lighting a cigarette with her limited edition, vintage Chanel lighter Joanna took a satisfying drag, four more days, she chanted in her head, four more days.

Dear Mrs Miles, 

I am writing to ask for your help. I have recently had an operation but am unwilling to tell people what, as it is rather embarrassing. I don't know how to reply to questions that I get and wondered whether a white lie would be appropriate.

Yours, JM Wolverhampton


In your position I would tell a black lie; say that you were having cosmetic surgery. If anyone dares to ask 'on what' just pretend to be offended that they hadn't noticed. 
And if you were having cosmetic surgery, there is nothing to ashamed of. Unless of course it went wrong. Then believe me, everyone knows.

Mrs Miles


Dear Mrs Miles, 


I recently saw an advert for salsa classes and wondered how to approach my wife in asking her to join me in these weekly practices. We are both in our late forties and of ample size but any suggestion of physical activities has the nasty habit of turning into an argument. I do feel inspired to learn something new and feel it might benefit us both. Hope you can help.


Yours, DS West Midlands


I fully applaud your desire to learn something new, try taking up etiquette classes so as not to refer to your wife as 'ample sized' in a magazine. Or ever.

Mrs Miles

Dear Mrs Miles, 

My daughter is soon to be turning 21 and I am unwilling to break with tradition and have a family get-together. However, I have just found out that her boyfriend wants to surprise her with a trip to Paris for that weekend. I am in a dilemma of what to do and would appreciate your advice.

Yours, PS Durham

You have nothing to worry about; the trip to Paris is no longer a surprise. And now you can talk to your daughter about how you want her birthday to go. Appreciate away.

Mrs Miles

Dear Mrs Miles, 

I am about to go on holiday with my boyfriend of 8 months for the first time. We are going to Spain. I have stayed at his before but this is a whole week with one person. I'm not sure whether I should prepare for the worst and hope for the best of just enjoy myself and think nothing of it.

Yours, ST Kent


What is the problem? I'm sure he will love you even with all your bikini, waxing, body and tanning issues. And after a week if he hasn't noticed all your effort, chuck him - to use the more colloquial phrase.

Mrs Miles

Right... That's kinda it. I'm sure those of you who read Style from the Sunday paper will recognise the snide, bitchy style. Love you all and sorry it's taken me sooooo long to write here!

 

Ciao Bellas Xx