Why don’t you have a personalized astrological chart drawn up and discuss it with a respected astrologer? Nobody admits to believing in the stars, but I think we all do deep down. It’s much nicer to think that luck and fate are real and life isn’t one parade to the grave. My yearly horoscope said something quite wonderful, and even if it isn’t true, it still put me in a marvelous mood. Isn’t that the point? It said, “Never underestimate your power, Leo. You are blessed with the gift of being adored just for being you.” Lovely.


Why don’t you purchase some overpriced vitamins and blame them for your failure to have well-developed abdominal muscles? That’s what I’m doing. I get a bit of exercise in, though it nearly kills me each day. I walk and do squats and pushups and things. I’ll even do yoga and run if the motivations strikes me, but I’m not going to do a crunch or a sit-up. Nope. Won’t be happening. So, it’s much nicer to say my lack of musculature, even tiny ones, is completely the fault of the pills.


Why don’t you put together a playlist of all of your favorite songs in case you are ever invited to be a guest on Desert Island Discs? In England, celebrities, politicians, and other interesting people are asked to come talk about eight songs, a book, and luxury item they would take to a deserted island. They discuss their choices, and it’s lovely. There is a stunning episode with Joanna Lumley that I insist you download. She’s perfect. I’ve been compiling a very well-edited list ever since.


Why don’t you start planning where you want to go for retirement? It’s years off, and you will probably die before you get there, but it’s nice to have a goal and a dream. I want to spend the winters in Luxor, Egypt, preferably in a cozy apartment overlooking the Nile River and Luxor Temple. Maybe the Winter Palace if I could afford it? I would have a delightful time. Then, for the rest of the year, I should like to be in a gilded jewel box of an apartment in Paris, maybe in the Marais. I’d even settle for Clichy. It’s fun to think about growing old in my favorite places.


Why don’t you bring back Renaissance fashions and clad yourself in heaps of ruffles and lace? I think it would be rather amusing and very elegant to wear a ruffled shirt with billowy sleeves and slender velvet pantaloons. Perhaps I’m just peculiar (which is evident), but if I could dress up like a Disney prince each day, I would.

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