on wherefore i am most unsuitable for marriage

Dear Sir,

I should like to thank you most sincerely for your recent proposal of marriage, but I feel compelled to point out that I am doing you an immense favor in refusing. I realize you were rather swept away, but, as it has escaped your notice, I might just point out that I do not cook, clean nor like children. I also wish to live on a different continent. Should these small flaws leave you undaunted, you are most cordially requested to restate your request after a cooling-off period of sixty days.

In order to allow you to consider the matter more fully, perhaps I should eluci-, if not officially, -date.

Cooking I find unnecessary and a supreme waste of time. Please do not ask what I eat for dinner; I am dreadfully bored of this question, and have been for some time now. I eat dinner when it finds me; when it doesn't, I don't. I see no reason to waste my time looking for it if it can't be bothered to look for me. The same could be said for your would-be rivals, though perhaps this is a heartless time to so indicate. I shall desist and return to the topic of cooking.

What more can be said, though? It is all very well for those who have hours upon hours at their daily disposal, and, to be fair, I am not opposed to other people cooking, but cooking is not for me. I am sure you would agree that cereal is among the best of meals ever concocted, and apples, sushi and chocolate compose the remainder of a remarkably well-balanced diet.

As for cleaning, my room lives in a constant state of disaster, meaning that it can be problematic to walk from one side to the other. It is rarely problematic for me, seeing as I have years of experience mastering this delicate feat, but even those who have lived with me longest have sometimes found themselves sprawled, limbs up, on their backsides when attempting to navigate the unsettled territory. Although I do what I can to keep it tidy, it is an ever-raging battle from which, frankly, I do not always advance as victor.

I might point out that most of the objects in the room are really very nice ones. I am quite keen on most of them, except for the Important Papers, but they, so they insist, are Important and must be kept, regardless of aesthetic value or lack thereof. The Kleenex present a slightly stronger case for disposal. Perhaps I shall attend to them this afternoon.

As for children, I wish that I liked them. Infants I adore, for they are adorable and easily transportable, and teenagers I enjoy, for they are enjoyable and occasionally affable. Children, though, I have never liked, not even when I was one. Instead I preferred to parlay with my teachers on the playground, for I found them much more conversant and generally more agreeable.

I have been told repeatedly that my own children I shall like, and though I daresay this may be true, I shan't like to put it to the test any time soon.

As for continents, I am hard pressed to say which I would prefer, though I can almost guarantee it shall be the opposite of whichever you'd pick. If you are American, I prefer Australia. If you are Australian, I prefer America. As you see, I am afraid I really am abysmal with accents. Do forgive me. Perhaps we should leave it at that for now.

Incidentally, I also do not like cheese, bananas or olives, and I'd prefer to avoid lamb and pork. I remain exquisitely unaffected by poetry, and can't stand atmospheric lighting. I find slow music irritating. I refuse to awake before noon on a Saturday, and am prone to buying overseas plane tickets on a whim.

I can be tempted by milk (not dark) chocolate, roses (etc.) and long walks on the beach, though no walks of any kind anywhere else. I also am unfond of mountains.

As you can see, I remain a most unsuitable object of your affection. However, as aforementioned, should you still wish to press your cause, please so indicate after a hiatus of not less than sixty days.

I remain most respectfully yours,
Ms. Kirribilli Kim

Post-Script: The weather really is not unpleasant this time of the year, though I fancy it shall be even better in sixty days' time. Should you wish to restate your case, I can think of several acceptable locations in which to do so. (Location, location, location, they say. Going on precedent, I think they may be right.) Do bear the contents of this missive in mind, though, as it may not be suitable to mention them again later.

Post-Post-Script: My favorite flower is the frangipani.

Post-Post-Post-Script: I shouldn't be holding your breath, if I were you.