10 March - Bocca di Lupo
I have never been to dinner with the wife of L, who I love,ok, fancy, been to do's but not in close proximity and maybe we're having an off night but I don't think she says anything too impressive. And there I was, jealous of her better than mine job and the two gorgeous boys. For a while the other 3 are busy talking about her bro who's well known and who seems to have pissed them all off badly at some point, being a bit of an arrogant bully. Then we talk about the small controversy of Julie Myerson's novel about kicking her 16 year old kid out of the house and changing the locks cause he's a skunk smoker but all 3 confess we'll never bother to read it. And then I don't remember, but it was funny and J will cook for us all soon as nobody does dinner parties any more.
Talking of energy, I forgot that the night before the flight to LA I did have 5 people over for dinner and at 10pm I persuaded the girls that we were going to Mish Mash in Chiswick just because I thought a bit of mindless dancing would take the edge off and I wouldn't arrive in LA wanting to bite Toph's head off instead of his cock. The 3 of them kept saying 'are you sure you want to go out? we're fine if we don't go', but DS was over from Krakow so of course we had to show her a good time. Eventually she had some, but I could tell the place was too suburban and next time I'll have to take her to East London instead. They all thought the place was cheesy when they walked in and it is, but there's no arguing with top sould and r'n'b hits and more obscure but brilliant stuff. For a start, miss ex #1 back in '94 could easily sing along to all of them, and she did! And fancying that I can carry a tune I happily did the break in 'it's quarter to eleven, we're gonna go to ghetto heaven, ghetto heaven (go higher lisa, much higher) and then come the bababbbabba etc. And my disco granny mate DN also had a great time. I mean there were women MUCH older than us there. Fifties grannies, and a quota of younger guys who paid us attention. So thrilling in fact. LH kept saying that Steve who we left at home, would have hated it and DS's hubby, my cutting edge producer house guest would have run out except that you know, Britney and so on, they're all still stealing from that scene. JP doesn't play Lionel Ritchie you know? Anyway, got there at 10.30, back after midnight, bed and go to Heathrow. Love it.
On another note, I had left a male guest in the flat before going, well, he's here for a while. So I have to moan about men. What do you think it is that makes the scum from the shower, around the plughole, invisible to them? The week before, when I was home, I cleaned it various times as I prefer a bath so it had to go. These 9 days away have seen a larger accumulation and you'd think he'd have noticed it whereas before you know, I made it disappear so you could forgive... Am still puzzled over this. Later on I will show him the Cif, the spongy/clothy thing and explain the circular motion that will erase HIS scum from MY bath. I don't care if he's a famous producer or not, this is not a hotel.
Labels: food
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