So, we were all leaving England.

And the Queen was all, “Don’t leave my faire countrie. Staye, Deirdre, Rose and Suzanne.” (I’ve told her, like, three times it’s actually “Susan.”) 

So, I’m all, “OK. Well, if we can sit with you and you let me tumble this and we get free popcorn, we’ll stay.”

And Queen’s all, “Yes, you may tumble. But make me looke happy, younge and thinne." 

So, I’m all, "I can stretch you, but you have to TRY to smile to "looke” happy. I can’t do anything about your age. I won’t Photoshop wrinkles, unless they’re on me.“

She’s all, "Fine.” (That’s how much she needs friends. And I’m not disparaging Queen. She’s amazing, yeah? Just, you know … used to being large-and-in-charge. Anyway, this is her big smile-for-the-camera smile. Uh-huh. That’s why I have to edit her phone calls.)

Suzanne says, “Be patient. She’s 86 Deirdre. Don’t be an age-ist. Or a queen-ist.”

And I says, “Haven’t you seen my work, Suzanne????”

Anyway, we are loving the opening. I’m tumbling as it’s happening (Queen keeps looking over my shoulders, privacy hello!). We’ll head to Paris tomorrow. 

Or will we? ….

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