I have this vision of the words "Best Selling Author shagged her way around Britain" belching from the front of The Daily Mail immediately following the publication of my instantly successful memoirs.
I should therefore clarify, if only to preempt such an event (the headline - not the autobiography) and keep my adoring fans in a state of ongoing awe and respect. It's simply what they deserve.
Yes, I'm pleased to say I'm open to finding love, commitment, joy and delivering the same with more than a soupcon of passion to someone who's out there looking to do the same.
These two activities, one long term, one short term, are being done in complete isolation of each other. All consideration of feather mattresses, pillow menus, left or right side, east or west facing, doona or spread, is (and is expected to be) a series of solitary experiments. Although, as I was commenting to a truly charming Prince at lunch the other day, I do find it intriguing that despite the fact I check in alone, have ticked the 'one for dinner' box, and can usually be found regaling some ultra patient staff member (usually bar staff come to think of it) with complete inanities, housekeeping continues to turn down both sides of the cavernous beds. It's as if their providing me some encouragement - or indeed offering silent commitment to my ability to pull for at least one night. Thanks for that.
Today I depart Hambleton Hall, a truly delightful country house hotel. I've been made to feel welcomed, cared for, cosseted and celebrated. Something everyone should feel at least once a day.
And I remain open to the overtures of my Prince, and to making him feel welcomed, cared for, cosseted and celebrated. Everyday.
Hmm - maybe I should be combining these pursuits!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
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