i came home and ate my words for dinner, because my darling husbear made the bed.
well, he at least pulled the sheet and comforter up to the top.
we'll work on pillow placement later.
so yesterday, while perusing organic produce at forager's market in dumbo, a short handsome gentleman stepped back and lightly bumped miles' stroller.
the young man turned around to quickly apologize and excuse himself ever so politely, and my heart stopped.
like actually and truly stopped.
and when it started again, it did so in a double time that would make billy blanks proud.
because i was excusing jason motherfreaking schwartzman.
if you dont know who that is, 1. shame on you. and 2. he was not only the drummer for my longest running favorite band Phantom Planet, but he was also in every other amazing movie ever. ever. including but not limited to Rushmore, the Darjeeling Limited, I Heart Huckabees, and Slackers.
i then found myself in line behind him as he paid for his groceries and was darling and polite to the cashier. he nodded goodbye, and i was an instant puddle on the floor. think alex mack.
so i text miles' mom immediately to inform her that this god of an actor is just walking willy-nilly around her neighborhood, expecting her to FREAK OUT and race home and scou the streets for another glimpse of him, and she just responds with "oh yeah, he lives across the street." like it's NO BIG DEAL.
...i love this job.
and jason, if you're reading this, don't be alarmed if i'm waiting outside of your building every morning with doughnuts and a smoothie from forager's. you don't even have to pay me back.
IN OTHER NEWS.
last night we were awakened at 3:09am to an ear splitting crack that made me very nearly wet the bed.
now, we do not exactly live on the right side of the tracks.
as a matter of fact, we live in bed stuy, brooklyn, just south of the marcy projects.
we're pretty much on the worst side of the tracks imagineable.
gunshots are a weekly occurance, to be quite honest.
so when i heard this crack, i hit the roof, thinking a stray bullet had come in our window.
but when i opened my eyes, our bedroom was filled with pulsating light and the curtains were billowing and swirling like a freaking ufo is landing on hart street.
my sleepy brain finally pieced together all of this information- we were in the throes of a horrible, horrible thunderstorm.
again, lighting struck and thunder cracked, simultaneously, and every car alarm on the street started to go off. this cacophony was far too much for my sleepy head and tiny heart, and i was completely paralyzed with fear.
when i was very young, the slightest rustle of wind in the leaves had me running full tilt for my house, screaming bloody murder that a tornado was coming to sweep me away. it was my absolute greatest fear, perhaps only rivaled by E.T. seriously, i couldn't play in my own backyard without visions of tunnel clouds plaguing me, leaving my grasping at grass with my little fingers just to keep from being sucked away. i had a very active imagination.
i like storms now, but this one was just too close to home, literally speaking.
thankfully, my big strong handsome husbear leaped to my rescue and quickly started closing windows and unplugging appliances.
he then crawled back into bed, retrieved me from the pile of covers under which i had retreated, and soothed and shh'd and cuddled me back to sleep, which took far less timenthan i had expected, considering the alarms that were still going off outside.
and steve mcqueen the dog slept through it all.
but i'm kind of glad i didn't, simply because of the way i was lured back into slumber.