hello Mudda, hello Fadda

Dear Mom, Dad, and anyone else who's feeling particularly voyeuristic:

Everything's great in the Land of Tulips, except that I can't send outgoing AOL e-mail. So I've been reading your letters; I just can't respond to them. I'll get a Hotmail account or something, I promise.

In other news, I learned this week that Van Gogh was more melodramatic than crazy and that if you arrive late to the opera, you get to sit in the enclosed director's box. (Which is great for kissing. Not that I would know or anything, but I can imagine.)

The lead hero was played by a woman, so he and his bride were lesbian thespians. You would have liked it, Dad. It was really gay.

Dirk and I are leaving for Berlin in the morning (*if* he can get me up around 6 a.m.; please stop rolling your eyes, Mom). You have his cell phone number, so don't hesitate to call if you need something.

I confirmed my employment with the English family and plan on joining a writer's group in London. I'll take the ferry over on March 25.

I've been eating my vegetables and wearing my hat and gloves. And yes, I will take pictures. Anne Frank says "hi."

I love you and miss you both.

---Girl daughter

P.S. Congratulations on the cat, Mom. Also, good name choice.

betholindo at 11:39 a.m.

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