Such a tragedy. A lonely, educated, gender-neutral, liberal museum curator in a stiflingly small feudal "neighborhood" where everyone else is either part of the bureaucracy or a dumb animal. Stripped of her title for being different, she ends up having to tell people "it's Lady Elaine... like Lady Bird Johnson." That's when the drinking started. And chronic fibro-adreno-immuno-poliostic-fatigue syndrome from that toxic waste dump of a factory next door.
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Such a tragedy. A lonely, educated, gender-neutral, liberal museum curator in a stiflingly small feudal "neighborhood" where everyone else is either part of the bureaucracy or a dumb animal. Stripped of her title for being different, she ends up having to tell people "it's Lady Elaine... like Lady Bird Johnson."
That's when the drinking started.
And chronic fibro-adreno-immuno-poliostic-fatigue syndrome from that toxic waste dump of a factory next door.
She could use some conditioner. Alls I'm saying.
If you lived in a spinning house, you'd look drunk too!
Thank you for bringing this up, I thought I was the only one who lay awake at night pondering the motivation of "Lady Elaine Fairchilde".
/Dr. Alabaster
*ahem* Love her!
Jessica
xo
I think Lady Elaine Fairchilde may actually be someone whom Fred Rogers knew from his childhood...possibly a close relative.
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