Back by popular request. What do I write about? Call Cutta ambles along. The Cal phase is pretty slow going because the publicity is almost non-existant. The Berlin phase is going better. I was actually filmed by a German film crew at the webcamera at the Berlin mall, yesterday, so that's something.
Tomorrow is the big gathering of the clans. Five o' clock at the club. Be there or be a regular quadrilateral. Or just be any of my cousins... cos none of them have been invited, to their growing wrath. I don't know what I shall do all by myself. Perhaps I'll carry my swimsuit and go swimming.
I'm feeling dreadfully lazy, it must be the weather. Somehow, sleep ain't doing what it's supposed to do. I wake up each morning feeling as tired as I went to bed. But it's not as though as I'm not getting the sleep I ought to get. Strange. And for some stranger reason, I'm looking like somebody else all day. When I see myself in windows of shops and buses, that look on my face isn't familiar. I don't really look that cold, I tell myself, but what if I do? Have I become one of those faces I see on the streets everyday and pity because they seem vaguely dissatisfied? Poor little rich girl. Got everything, and I still look like those people on the streets.