The children are playing happily in my room. What madness is this??? Admittedly, they have upended all of their toy boxes and have scattered small, pointy, sharp things everywhere, into crevices I did not know our room had, and they are quite possibly drawing on Mark’s pieces of paper that somehow equal a functioning business, but STILL! I am in shock. The grand plan to take them to Portobello Road and feed them up with chocolate crepes has been abandoned. After all, such nice playing where no one is getting garrotted/squashed/poked in the eyeballs is as rare as the Comet ‘o’Haileys. So I am observing, musing, writing, and ah, reading Elle with Lindsay Lohan on the front. I am aware that this calm will last but a short while. And the Mormons (or JW’s – who knows the difference?) have just visited, dropped off a tract, and then politely left, without talking at length to me about Jesus. Which is also making me suspicious about the spooky ease of today. You never know – I may venture out, push my luck, and find a Hermes Kelly bag in the Trinity Hospice shop for a fiver. I did find some Ferragamo shoes in there for £15 about a month ago. Not the same, but I do feel LUCKY.
Baby Names Musings:
Wooing of Celebs Progess Report:
1. Josh Brolin – I am thinking we are getting along nicely. There had been quite a bit of jovial banter about Custard, as Custard is clearly a man-magnet. He has been wandering onto the street, shouting an approximation of a lusty “Hello!” to the film crew/Naomi Watts/Josh Brolin – and has on occasion got them to chat back. Furry-faced bear of a man Brolin made some crack about getting together fo coffee with Custard. Code for “Hmm, lovely lady, wanna touch this manly beard with your lips?” I think so. Reckon am about three days away from consummation.
2. Woody Allen – OK, he is about 75, with questionable ethics, and sports the papery skin of the aged, but those glasses – and that neurotic schtick – and that way with the camera! Am thinking he is into me big time. There was that undeniable moment three days ago when he walked past, I gurned, he looked up, kind of alarmed, but -BAM! – our eyes did the electric connection thing. I think.
Right. The loveliness is over. The shouting has begun. Time for a chocolate crepe.
By the way – see below what going to a Game Fair does to your kid:
Otto…..it has to be Otto! Please, if it’s a boy and I’m thinking it’s a girl, name him Otto!
I also vote for Otto. And I look forward to the post about the consummation.
Make sure that you open your eyes nice and wide when Woody or Josh are in the vicinity. I’ve heard it’s a surefire way to drive any man wild.
(am aware that it’s very elitist and non-inclusive of me to make private jokes on public forums, but couldn’t resist. xx)