I guess I should be blogging about the EuroCup or the start of Wimbledon. But that would be torture for all of us, right?
Last week our friend Mike was in town with his sister, visiting us and other friends he met while serving in the Peace Corps in Cameroon. He and Bryan became friends when they both studied abroad in Prague in 1993 and it has been love ever since.
And as I am a good host with my long days of verylittletodoness, we were able to do a short bar crawl in my neighborhood, take some walks and have other assorted adventures like the amazing discovery that Bryan & Mike both like Oban scotch. On Friday night when Mike and I were waiting for Bryan to get out of work to meet us in Soho, we decided to go have pints at the first bumping pub we came across, which happened to be gay. As we sipped our extra-cold Kronenbourgs, I declared that it would be fun to give Bryan our coordinates, but not tell him it was a gay bar. This kept me amused, along with the two adorable guys that, when my umbrella was lying on the floor, said “Excuse me, you dropped your brolly.” HELLO, THE WORD BROLLY IS CUTE.
One of the more important things to come out of Mike’s visit, is my confession to him that since a dream last week, I have not been able to rid the film “Sleeping With The Enemy” from my mind. It should be noted that this film came out in 1991 and I haven’t seen it in at least ten years. So what possessed me to dream/ nightmare about it, I have no idea. Now I am obsessed with the question: Is Sleeping With The Enemy the best thriller ever made? Evidence in the affirmative: when Julia Roberts is in her new home in Iowa and notices the hand towels and cans in the cupboard perfectly lined up. I die a little just thinking about it.