I rolled the bottom threeinches to make a rolled cuff. Unfortunately, my toes still sported theFrench manicure. I checked my finger nails. They too... glistened. Iwent back to my bathroom and looked for some polish remover or somealcohol. Nothing. I have to remember to do something about that, Ipledged.My hair disheveled and my long bangs standing straight up, I walkeddownstairs and saw my mother and Marilyn on the patio. I retrieved theshears from a kitchen drawer and cut some white roses. That is probably because I had not listened to a single, shocking revelation in the past thirty minutes that related, personally, to me. I remembered to curb my natural sarcasm at the last moment. When you call someone for help, it does not really help your cause if you insult him or her at the same time. I would have probably said something funny, like, "Wow! You MUST be a psychiatrist." if I had wanted to. "Yes, I did," I told him. "I've got a couple of questions for you." Shoot," he said. More

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