Don't misunderstand the title, I'm certainly not in bed with anyone interesting. During the Inauguration I caught the most miserable cold, which is why you have not heard from moi all of this time. (Donations can be sent to your favorite charity.)
It is hideous...I lie here, sneezing and coughing and shifting Bucky constantly off of my legs. He gets overly protective at times such as these. And I have so much to prepare for! I am supposed to be writing a book, dahlings, but I cannot think straight with all of this bacteria in my system! And Fashion Week--my god!
Your faithful correspondent was already sick on the flight back to New York. I am ashamed to confess that I sneezed violently on Alec Baldwin, my seatmate in First Class. And on his dinner. And on his suede jacket. He was quite the gentleman about it, considering, in fact he hardly noticed, he was so busy talking with his assistant back in New York. "What else?" he kept saying. However, he did agree to my picking up the dry cleaning bill for the jacket. But now I know any chance for romance with Alec is shot. Damn. At times like this I wish he still drank, then I might have a chance some evening. But no, sober people always remember when you've sneezed on them.
Oh, dear, I must stop. This has been entirely too much for me, but it was my love for you, my wonderful public, that made me sit up in bed and dictate this to my assistant. More than that, one cannot ask, n'cest pas?
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog