![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i am a pirate, too.
Jan. 30th, 2005 09:56 pmdear sunday night,
i am in quite a few different kinds of pain. i am writing, first of all, to thank you for this heartfelt and thoughtful surprise. you are a dear.
your predicessor, yesterday, was truly lovely. it involved one miss sera, now my valentine; one bethii, blue-haired and gay-armed; one zb, or liz, a gnome, and madly in like, and new; and, for a while, one miss teresa, an important part of my sordid past, and now a waitress. i obtained shoes that i think are really quite fantastic. they are shoes for being a girl in, something fortiesish with far too many buckles. you will, i am sure, see pictures of me in them eventually. (were they to be worn with my lace stockings and while reading virginia woolf, i'd have no choice but to run away to sea and turn to piracy. they'd be terribly impractical for pirating purposes, but i simply like them that much.) we walked in the snow. we danced in a train station. i learned about the ocean. and, you see, i felt as if i belonged somewhere for the first time in what feels like a very, very long time. (it has only been two weeks to the day, in "reality".) it made me remember that i enjoy the company of girls very much, and these girls in particular, and it made me hope that they will allow me to spend time with them often in the days to come. ( these are some of the things that we did. )
my dearest sunday night, i do, in all honesty, wish that you were a bit more exciting, but alas, i am a member of the working classes, and i am quite tired as a result, so perhaps this is for the best. wearing new socks is more excitement than i deserve, i'm sure, especially when one considers how often i indulge myself in the privilege. these ones, should you wonder, have red and pink stripes.
i shall end you in tea, sunday night. you may, of course, struggle if you wish.
ever yours,
the earl, et cetera, et cetera, so on and so forth.
the bells are clanging and clamouring from what appears to be a church. now they have stopped, rung twice -- now the ceremony is over.
i am in quite a few different kinds of pain. i am writing, first of all, to thank you for this heartfelt and thoughtful surprise. you are a dear.
your predicessor, yesterday, was truly lovely. it involved one miss sera, now my valentine; one bethii, blue-haired and gay-armed; one zb, or liz, a gnome, and madly in like, and new; and, for a while, one miss teresa, an important part of my sordid past, and now a waitress. i obtained shoes that i think are really quite fantastic. they are shoes for being a girl in, something fortiesish with far too many buckles. you will, i am sure, see pictures of me in them eventually. (were they to be worn with my lace stockings and while reading virginia woolf, i'd have no choice but to run away to sea and turn to piracy. they'd be terribly impractical for pirating purposes, but i simply like them that much.) we walked in the snow. we danced in a train station. i learned about the ocean. and, you see, i felt as if i belonged somewhere for the first time in what feels like a very, very long time. (it has only been two weeks to the day, in "reality".) it made me remember that i enjoy the company of girls very much, and these girls in particular, and it made me hope that they will allow me to spend time with them often in the days to come. ( these are some of the things that we did. )
my dearest sunday night, i do, in all honesty, wish that you were a bit more exciting, but alas, i am a member of the working classes, and i am quite tired as a result, so perhaps this is for the best. wearing new socks is more excitement than i deserve, i'm sure, especially when one considers how often i indulge myself in the privilege. these ones, should you wonder, have red and pink stripes.
i shall end you in tea, sunday night. you may, of course, struggle if you wish.
ever yours,
the earl, et cetera, et cetera, so on and so forth.
the bells are clanging and clamouring from what appears to be a church. now they have stopped, rung twice -- now the ceremony is over.