Mother recently remarked that I wouldn't need to go to the movies later on,
because I know all the plots, the names of the stars and the reviews by heart.
Whenever I come sailing in with a new hairstyle, I can read the disapproval on their faces,
and I can be sure someone will ask which movie star I'm trying to imitate.
My reply, that it's my own invention, is greeted with skepticism.
As for the hairdo, it doesn't hold its set for more than half an hour.
By that time I'm so sick and tired of their remarks that I race to the bathroom and restore my hair to its normal mass of curls. Yours, Anne
FRIDAY, JANUARY 28, 1944
Dearest Kitty, This morning I was wondering whether you ever felt like a cow,
having to chew my stale news over and over again until you're so fed up with the monotonous fare
that you yawn and secretly wish Anne would dig up something new.
Sorry, I know you find it dull as ditchwater, but imagine how sick and tired I am of hearing the same old stuff.
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