I've lost my umbrella. That, along with the impending rain, has put a heavy dampener on my day. Although it is definitely not beyond replacement, it was of estimable quality and I very much liked it. 

My cinematic flick of the moment is Chicago. I fell out of the rush when it was hot -- almost determinedly -- but a Floridian friend's appreciation led to a second run. I hum now, everywhere, John C. Reilly's pathetic rendition of "Mister Cellophane." I was in fact planning to call this blog "Miss Cellophane", but it lost out to the more pretentious and punny "Gloriana." I suppose the former, with its sniffy, fearless "Miss", pushed the label of independent-yet-feminine woman just a tad too far for my reach.

I know. Some people would love to have my "problem." But hey, if I can't be indulged here, where else can I go ...

I'm on the shorter end of 5'6". I teeter on the possibility of 5'5". I weigh, on average, 110 lb. As a result, I'm quite slender, and just about skinny. I can touch my index finger to my thumb around my wrist, and I can fit into a girls' size 16 pant. I worry.

I have scarcely any hip. My breasts, they look fine when I'm naked, like a slightly heavier version of the Venus de Milo's -- perhaps that's my dilemma, that I know my female nudity from classical art. Larger bosoms, the ones that show shape through clothing, look to me swollen and heavy, when bare. But, at least they show. Me, my upper torso, I have a, shall we say, modest curve -- an embarrassing one now that I care about such things.

I want a womanly figure, soft hips, breasts, a rounded silhouette ... how do you make love to bones and angles?

Gloriana. Clever, no? Actually, no ... I naively tried for "Gloria" -- which is my "real life" name -- but that of course was already occupied. "Gloriana" occurred to me as first as what it is -- an alternate form of "Gloria" -- but then it occurred to me secondly that like "Americana", artefacts of American culture, "Gloriana" could, yes, be artefacts of my culture (were true culture not defined as of many and not of one). Now, again: Clever? A bit more than usual, maybe.