Saturday, January 10, 2009


My 1984 Barbie arrived in the post yesterday, in, to the eBay sellers credit, pristine condition. Actually it's even better than that, she's in her original box and it's unopened - the flaps still glued shut. How the hell, I wonder, does anyone have the self restraint to not open a toy for 25 years? Oh god, 25 years ago, that's roughly when I got my original Peaches n Cream Barbie. It makes me feel old.

Moving swiftly along.

I met the nanny who had the affair with Jude Law the other day. Remember her? Daisy something. I mean, Daisy is not a name you hear every day right? So there I am, what is it, three years after the fact? sitting in the community center with Julia, and this young woman starts chatting to me. She tells me she is there watching someones child for them, and is a former nanny but now has her own nanny and maternity nurse agency. Hmmm, the things tell-all interviews with Sunday rags can buy you. Anyhow, so I'm chatting to this woman and she looks very familiar. I have a bizarre photographic memory - like the time we wondered the length and breadth of Venice without a map, left my mobile phone in a random restaurant, and I was able to navigate us back to the exact same restaurant via the shops I had seen on the way. And if you know Venice, you'll appreciate how tough this is considering how many shops sell the exact same bloody Venetian masks. But enough bragging.

So I never forget a face or a Venetian mask shop, and coupled with an unusual name like Daisy, something in my head nagged me for days after that initial meeting. Then, about a week later, I'm about to watch the new Bond flick and my mind begins to piece things together and Ping! I suddenly remember where I saw that face before. Now to illustrate just how fascinating and ingenious the subconscious is, this is how I connected the dots:

Daniel Craig, aka 007, acted in Layer Cake with Sienna Miller, who of course was dating Jude Law at the time of nanny-gate.

I didn't see Daisy at the community center again, which is a shame really. I mean, I had a lot of questions.

We attended our friend Anna's baby shower today. She is due her baby in three weeks time. She looks fantastic. Seriously, most women that close to giving birth have an exhausted 'git this baby the hell out of me already' look to their faces. But Anna is glowing and looking beautiful and seems genuinely happy. I don't think I left the sofa in the last month of my pregnancy.

We are off on a ski trip this month. I'm between minds as to whether or not I will ski, or simply make the most of the coffee shops, catch up on my reading, and introduce Julia to snow. But as I'm going to purchase some ski underwear tomorrow, I'll probably have to justify the cost of my purchase by doing at least one day of skiing.

Yes, skiing. How I wish I'd learnt when I was a kid. Instead I took it up in my late 20's, with a vast knowledge of just how many ways I could injure and kill myself on the icy slopes. I hate that about being an adult. As a kid you hop on any old horse and hold onto its neck as it gallops off with you, thinking this is the most fun you've ever had in your life. Or walk up to random dogs without any fear that they might actually tear the hand you are about to scratch them with, off. At some point you get older and begin to over think everything. Far worse than wrinkles in my opinion.

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