Despite having to diet this week in Los Angeles, I have been in an incredibly good mood, surprisingly so, I am meant to be going through the menopause, and all I can do is laugh, I think I am celebrating. Why do we women make so much fuss over these things. Anyway we do. In any case, so to avoid middle age spread I have had to embark on a diet of green slime. It’s worked. I am now glowing with health and am wearing a size smaller jacket, or rather the old one now does up. I do feel rather dizzy sometimes, and I do forget to answer people when they speak to me, but hells bells, this is nothing, better than being fat.
I worry though when driving here in Los Angeles. First of all the cars are too big. I feel I drive a truck. Panic strikes as I come up to junctions, people seem to have their hands on the horn continually, and headlights come towards me looking angry and ready to kill. It is more frightening than Paris where people are so aggressive that it is perfectly normal to spit, swear, and beep. The Americans like the pretence of politeness when in fact they are just as ratty as the rest of us. It felt a total miracle that I managed to get to The Capitol Building on time for my friend Barbara Orbison’s party for her late husband, Roy. He was being honoured along The Hollywood Walk of Fame with a star, right outside the front door of the famous building that has seen so many talented people enter. However there were so many electric buttons on my car, that it felt a gift when it actually moved. It was worthwhile, Roy was truly loved, and Barbara had asked her friends to come with her, and honour everything he achieved. Amongst the crowd was Eric Idle, David Lynch looking natty in a white shirt and sparkly suit, Chris Isaak with his dog in a bag, and Barbara Bach. In fact everybody in the room was a star. A good day to see something worthwhile, but then we are in Hollywood, where dogs in a bag go hand in hand with stardom.
