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May 26, 2002
I cannot wait to be old. I will wear silk flowing kimonos and jangly jewelry of wood, bead, bone, glass. I will have cocktail hour every day at 4, with or without someone. I will discuss the classics with the neighborhood high school dropouts, titillate them with 18th century scandal. Perhaps age will forgive eccentricity, redeem all mistakes of youth and now they will be anecdotes of knowledge. I will make great to-do of traveling by train to visit friends. Not only on special occasions will I let my long white hair down. But only if you sing for me.