To be an Empress… one day.

When  I was younger (not that much younger – just a little bit) I wanted to become Empress of The World.  I wrote about this before, and I recently got reminded again by my arrogant cousin (note: not the one in the previous blog, I have many cousins – my grandmother’s generation were Catholics…) who unknown to me was apparently planning to do the same. Must run in the family.

My career plan up til then looked like this: baker, doctor of non description, gynaecologist, actress… and Empress of the World kind of seem to be a logical follow-up.

How I would become Empress of the World was not really an issue. There was never really a time line: when I thought of this ambition 25, let alone 26 *gasp* was not on my radar. It wouldn’t be. Twenty, which was a mere four years away, seemed a different generation. (That’s when you had moved out and had become a real adult –  haha, no such thing.)

Thinking about the idea now, becoming an Empress should be more of a long-term project. The title in itself lends itself to a more mature woman anyway. Let’s face it, even young Padme Amidala is a Queen and she gave birth to galaxy saving offspring.  Yes, becoming an empress is definitely something to achieve later in life:

I mean, you’d have to wear beautiful shoes and dress for any kind of weather. You would know the roads in all kinds of random places in the world. You would have the patience for yoga and meditation and be in better shape than some twenty-somethings. You would remember your loved ones’ birthdays and send them a card that arrives on time.  You would slide into local customs as if they were your own and eat chickenfeet without batting an eyelid. You would be able to speak the same way to the Pope as to a kindergarten teacher and remember their names and their interests. You would wear make-up that compliments your face and take it off every night before you go to bed. You’d drink 1.5 liters of water a day and only two glasses of alcohol during one evening (but you could down a shot like the rest of them.) You could cook a gourmet meal out of the left-overs in your cupboard. You’d wear Chanel No. 5 . You would be friendly but not suffer fools gladly. You would have a handbag that at all times contained: mints, a pen and a tiny notebook, paracetamol, some change and a packet of tissues. Children would automatically love you. You would keep the plants in your garden or home alive. You would have a library in your home and a comfy sofa before an open fire at safe distance. You would have a popcorn-maker. You would humour but appreciate the ambition of the young and try to give them a head-start, and you would have forgiven those who could not see that far – a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away.

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