I’m so annoyed! Yesterday was a complete and utter disaster! One would have thought the aristocratic garden party at Daddy’s manor house would have easily sustained a mature environment but obviously I was mistaken! It just baffles me how people with such polished exteriors can show what complete baboons they are after a glass of wine. It’s not as though we’re living in the nineteenth century – this is nineteen fifteen for goodness sake!
I should have seen it coming – the afternoon was doomed from the moment my grand entrance failed to impress because father’s butler was entertaining the guests with his impression of a possessed goose. Of course I might have found it slightly humorous if it weren’t for the fact the novelty had already worn off after he had tried it in the dining room but ended up choking on his cufflink. That stupid man is constantly stealing my thunder.
And the head house maid...oh my goodness the shame, my cheeks burn at the mere thought. They knew this was my special afternoon yet clumsy Maggie still managed to trip over a stool and send a wine glass flying in Lady Garnet’s face. The poor old bat is sixty four and I’ll tell you now, those scars will vanish long before her nostrils stop flaring angrily. They were nothing compared to her expression though; somewhere between bleeding where the glass shards had hit her and blue in the face from wailing she looked as though she was ready to throttle the next person who cried “Oh Mrs Garnet are you all right?”
She certainly didn’t look alright, but I suppose her nose did that thing where it screws up when she’s trying to show emotion, so on the bright side we did get a familiar response from her.
Father was most excited that Sir Arthur Eccleston made his appearance – he’s a Lord, you know. Maggie thought she’d make him feel welcome by personally offering him an egg and cress finger sandwich; it had obviously slipped her mind the man is lactose intolerant, but not to worry, we got him breathing again in the end...even if he did wheeze a lot after speaking.
It’s hard not to feel sorry for me really...I put so much effort into making myself seem respectable and the blunders of a few idiotic people cast a shadow of humiliation upon me. The day wasn’t all wasted I suppose as I did receive many complements concerning my dress, though it’s hard to accelerate your ego when you faint soon after because Maggie fastened your garment too tight when she dressed you in the morning. Father actually snapped at me and crudely suggested that if I wasn’t satisfied I should get off my...and dress myself, which I thought was quite rich coming from a man who won’t even pour his own cereal.
Enough about all of that though, I’d rather just put it all to bed now. I mean, what are the chances of having ditsy and attention seeking house staff? Whatever I do, I mustn’t blame any of it on myself...I’m not exactly hard work!
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