Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend

The French were bred to die for love
they delight in fighting duels
but I prefer a man who lives
and gives expensive jewels.
A kiss on the hand may be quite continental
but diamonds are a girl's best friend.
A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental
on your humble flat, or help you at the automat.
Men grow cold as girls grow old
and we all lose our charms in the end.
But square-cut or pear-shaped
these rocks don't lose their shape
Diamonds are a girl's best friend
...Tiffany's ... Cartier...

There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer
but diamonds are a girl's best friend.
There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer
thinks you're awful nice
but get that ice or else no dice.
He's your guy when stocks are high
but beware when they start to descend,
It's then that those louses go back to their spouses
Diamonds are a girl's best friend.

I've heard of affairs that are strictly platonic
but diamonds are a girl's best friend,
and I think affairs that you must keep liaisonic
are better bets if little pets get big bag gifts.
Time rolls on and youth is gone
and you can't straighten up when you bend
but stiff back or stiff knees
you stand straight at Tiffany's
Diamonds... Diamonds...
- I don't mean rock salt -
but Diamonds, Are A Girl's Best Friends

By the title of this post, you may conclude that I did watch Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, and then annoyed Society Max by humming the refrain to "Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend" at every available opportunity. I must say I love alexandrites and sapphires, but in some ways I agree with Marilyn Monroe: diamonds are not as good as superior men, but they are a lot better than a great many men out there.
Today I began with following up on a link my brother sent me to a Russian-language forum discussing the changes that happened to the Russian spoken in Israel. It was a very well-thought-out article detailing the lexical, syntactic, and even morphological borrowing from Hebrew (and English), and although my Hebrew has never been fluent, I recognised some sins I myself commit. I wrote a reply on the forum (after five pages of others' comments) stating my position and notes on this - typing really slowly in Cyrillic and very carefully checking every single turn of phrase I used in case I inadvertently used an Englishism. I read enough to write very well as to spelling, but I have never learned the punctuation rules and punctuate by eye, and I may on occasion use the wrong preposition/case combination. Irene, if you read this, do not take my word as law where Russian grammar is concerned - not until my Chirstmas present arrives.
Speaking of Christmas presents, I did find nice gifts for both Jelibeenz and Iselen; the trick now is paying for them. I have no idea whether the louses who filed my editing contract at the beginning of November actually intend to pay me for it. I am definitely going back to the Bagelshop, but until my first paycheck there, I may have to borrow again from my family. My god, this time last year I was rolling in wealth; this time last year I dared not look at jewelry that cost over $100. I will clear this hurdle, I know. At least three people, Jelibeenz, Iselen, and Athaira, check. Plus the math department, of course, but that was taken care of back in August. As the movie star said when her friend told her she had bought everyone's Christmas gifts in October, "But how do you know in October who your friends are going to be in December?"
At dance rehearsal, we found a huge pile of sticks in a blanket on the stage, and everyone was asking Vera, one of the senior dancers, about them. "I don't know, ballerinas have twisted brains." "Cell phones and chicken dance?" Mara, another senior dancer, reminded her. "Ok, we have twisted brains too."
I made it through two melodies of obertas turns (pirouettes, after a fashion) without losing my spot once. I remarked to Gabrielle about that: "You know you are a bad dancer when that is a red-letter day in your diary." But I did not believe I was a bad dancer. I now had hope.
Too little, too late. It seems I am not going to be in any of the dances at the Dec. 18 show. All of the ones that I actually knew and had rehearsed, our Lord Pencilturn cast other girls in - even the walk-on at the end of the Privit welcoming dance, the part that I refer to as "towel detail" (they carry rushniki, traditional Ukrainian embroidered towels, a symbol of welcoming and hospitality). I talked to Madeleine, the star of the Apprentice class and a very good dancer herself, and she told me Lord Pencilturn did not put her into any dances either because he would if she attended Friday rehearsals and she cannot. " Well, I attend all Friday rehearsals," I said, "and I am still not in any dances because I suck." "No, you don't," she said. I do not know whether she was being polite.
I do not want to sound bitter and claim that I deserve better; if Lord Pencilturn chooses not to cast me when he has the other two novice apprentices, there must be a reason, and my incompetence is the simplest one. But dancing is one of the things I love and want to do most in this life, and I cannot help but be hurt that I cannot do it. I know I will be better next year, but I am only twenty years old, and at that age, next year is an inconceivable dream. As Anne McCaffrey wrote, "It is only when you're young, girl, that you want things badly. At my age, you learn how to plan." I have still not learned. If I cannot dance, it does not matter to me that I play on a national-level trivia team and coach another one; that I have passed third-year mathematics; that I am a superior linguistics student and a highly-valued research assistant; that I was a respected aikidoka until very recently, and could be again; that I have three novels in the works, and friends and family who love me, and a lovely jewelry collection and extensive knowledge of all the stones in it... I am still only twenty years old, just out of the volatile teens, and not even being told but implied to that my dancing does not pass muster shakes my self-confidence to its foundations, and there are tears in my eyes, although a woman of twenty years old should be above crying.