Life is gradually improving. We are still on Week 1 of the new, higher dose of happy pills and apparently I can expect it to take 6-8 weeks again for this new dose to achieve its full effect. Therefore, if this yields a good result I should be back on the dancefloor with a vengeance around the first half of October.
Yesterday I went to the British Library, which was super. Check out this fabulous statue of Isaac Newton by Eduardo Paolozzi.
This is what the exterior of the British Library looks like.
The spires of the St Pancras Renaissance Hotel appear over the library roof.
Inside the library there are several floors of reading rooms which are full of priceless, ancient manuscripts. The building is dominated by this central tower, which is called The King’s Tower, because it houses the books of King George III, who founded a precursor to the British Library back in the 18th century.
While I was there, I went to see the Comics Unmasked exhibition.
My favourite periods for just about anything are the mid 18th century and then the 1970s, including cartoons and comics, as it turns out.
Plate 2 of The Harlot’s Progress by William Hogarth, 1732. The Harlot’s Progress is a series of six engravings that tell the story of Moll Hackabout’s decline and fall into moral turpitude. In Plate 2, prior to entering into prostitution, she is the mistress of a wealthy merchant. She is kicking the table over to draw his attention away from a rival lover of hers who is discreetly escaping out the door.
And now a couple of hilarious comic book covers from the 1970s. I was a child in the 70s and this is what Britain was like. As you can see, not that much had changed since the 18th century.
Truly Amazing Love Stories, 1977. “Forty-four pages of crotch ticklin tales.”
Dope Fiend Funnies, 1974
In the latest beauty news, I went to see my Botox doctor for a check-up and top-up. I showed her some photos of me from July, in which I look utterly defeated and have the sagging, almost-dead eyes of an ancient turtle that has experienced abuse. Then I showed her some photos of me that I took a couple of days ago when I was putting on make-up ahead of going on a date, in which I look like a princess and totally unrecognisable as the same person. Then I gave her a thank-you card with a heartfelt message. Then I wept, right there in her office, out of gratitude. I can’t believe what she’s done for my face. I am overwhelmed with the results. I thought was I was never going to look pretty again after being beaten so badly around the face and head in the awful Crime of earlier this year. It is like a miracle. It is better than when I had new teeth and that is really saying something.
It is my birthday this week and I decided to celebrate it today so after I left the office of the Supreme Goddess of Beauty I went to Top Shop and had my ears re-pierced. I haven’t worn earrings in 15 years and the holes had all but closed up. I suddenly felt that what I wanted for my birthday was to be able to wear earrings again. Right now there are two sparkly crystals in my ears. I feel reconnected with my own, relatively gorgeous, past and at the same time I can see into the future, and it is a future with earrings in it. The holes will have healed in about a month and then I can really have fun.
I feel happy because I feel pretty. My other birthday present to myself was new hi-tech moisturiser, so that the lower half of my face can keep pace with the newly rejuvenated upper half and finally I am due a haircut this week, which I’ve been waiting for, so we can at least begin styling it into a shape that I actually want.
I am speaking at a large business conference in France in a couple of weeks. I will be the only woman on a panel of men. I am going to wow everyone with my beauty and glamour as well as my expertise, if I can find my passport, that is.
1 Art point. I think this means I’m officially not depressed any more.