…I sat down and wrote my mother a thank you note when she died.
…I keep my composure in times of great strife.
…Spayed/neutered cats in our neighborhood for families that couldn’t afford to.
…I would like to remind everyone that you are all elegant and beautiful. And people love you, even if you don’t know or believe it. This is the most elegant thing I will ever do.
…I bought a photo book called “Kisses” and replaced all the photos and poems with personal ones from my lover’s and my escapades. It was my gift to her.
…I sang a song in front of a crowd for my fiancee-to-be. Her ring in a box around my neck.
…The most elegant thing I’ve ever done or will ever do is give birth to my beautiful little girl.
…I walked around with pearl earrings at the age of three.
…I made a beautiful six-course, candlelit dinner for my husband’s boss. At the last minute, before the main course, our German Shephed lept onto the kitchen counter and devoured the standing rib roast.
…Sometimes my husband and I dress up as if we’re going to the Oscars, and have dinner together at home.
…When I clean the house I dance instead of walking. And I pretend I’m being filmed.
…Sometimes, when I’m alone, I pretend I’m a 100 years old… and beautiful. And I feel elegant.
…I make up the most elaborate, fantastical lies about my life to people I meet for the first time. And if I continue knowing these people I have to be able to keep my various stories straight. I’ve not been caught yet. There is an elegance in that, I think, regardless of why I do it.
…I read in the park.