A snapshot of the last oh, I don’t know, 72 hours of my life.
So I walk outside the flat yesterday around 5pm to go to an appt. There are paparazzi directly in front of my flat staring at the place three doors down from us. So I cross the street and say to one of them, with a huge smile, ooooh, who are you taking pictures of? Being coy of course because I know Matt Lucas lives there. He of Little Britain fame. And the photog kind of gives me a weird look and says Matt Lucas. And I start chatting him up like, oh Matt Lucas… yeah the guy from Oasis lives on this street too… and didn’t Matt Lucas and his boyfriend get back together… and sometimes his mom is there… and why are you taking pictures of him? And the photog looks at me again strangely and says, um, because his ex hung himself today. Wham. I had no idea. So he says, it’s the cover of every piece of news. Crap, I only checked American news today. So then I say, you guys should leave him alone. And the photog says, oh really? And I say, who am I kidding? I buy your magazines. And I leave.
And it hits me. This is the second time in my life there have been paps on my street to snap shots of a celebrity whose ex just died in a tragic manner. What are the odds? And then when I get home the photog is super sweet and offers to help me with my stroller/buggy but really he wants to know if the buildings have back entrances. As if I am going to help them.
Before all this though I went to pick up the new shower head Bryan had ordered. I walk into the store and the employees go to get my order. And I ask them if my husband cheaped out and bought a crappy head. And they assure me it was a good one. And I am like okay, I hope so- you never know with him. So they hand it to me and I say, did my husband tell you what happened to our old one? Let me tell you. He realized one day the water wasn’t coming out of the little shower spray holes as well so instead of just dipping it in descaler for a few seconds like a normal inhabitant of this country (we have hard water and it is very common to have to use descaler on metal products to get rid of the limescale), he takes tweezers and pokes half the holes in and then puts electrical tape over them. The guy at the store had seen it when Bryan brought it in and started laughing.
I told Bryan not to do any other DIY projects without running it by me first. It turns out I am the handy one. Which is not saying much. But I realized that making fun of him with two store employees was a small highlight of my day. Is that wrong?
It also turns out our grocery store, with I frequent daily, hates Fox News too. Well done!
So we recently made the switch from summer to winter clothes. Which sounds embarrassing to even type. Trust me how badly I await the day all my clothes, regardless of seasonal appropriateness, can live side by side together year-round in a humongous closet. So anyway, we were switching clothes and Bryan pulls a cashmere sweater out from a storage basket and it has big holes in it. And I was mesmerized. I had no idea moths really come in and eat sweaters. That always seemed like something that could only happen in the proper breeding ground- like a grandparents’ musty house with crystal bowls filled with Werther’s Originals with a layer of dust on top. And I’m all, um I’m okay, I filled up on breakfast.
Well, back to my full time job. Convincing Jonah to nap.