As one looks out across another Los Angeles sunset, one must confess that one misses the friends and companionship of 1796 (the year I 'came out' in society - but then with these low dresses, that sort of thing is bound to happen from time to time), the elaborate dinners, the opulent dances, and even the secretive espying on the men in the smoking room as they played that new game with Mr McVities' recent invention the digestive biscuit. But one has found some compensations, and at this present time, the address book is groaning under the weight of calling cards from people eager to make one's acquaintance.
My newest friend is the delightful Miss Keira Knightly, who professes a love of my works, and who has recently filmed a role in a cinematic version of my novel Pride and Prejudice. Keira and I went shopping this morning, and enjoyed a veritable exhibition of finery in the city's most excellent boutiques. However, I began to become suspicious when Keira asked me to look after three flowery tops, a pair of designer jeans, two hats and an umbrella by concealing them about my person, while she stuffed a Stella McCartney original up her jumper.
It was at this point, dear diary, that I realised just how much Keira Knightly looks like Wynona Rider.
Fortunately my lawyer believes so too, and believes he can get me off with a warning. I told him I've had offers like that before, but we'll see if he can deliver.
Yours in faith,