I am ashamed at my salacious interest in the Paris Hilton debacle and I must admit to feeling rather sorry for her when I heard that she was dragged out of the courtroom screaming and crying after the judge ordered her back to Lynwood for 45 days. However, I was awakened this morning by a helicopter circling overhead and there has been the monotonous sound of helicopters all around us ever since. When you live probably a mile from Miss Hilton, as the crow flies, it is to be expected, but it's also incredibly annoying in our usually quiet canyon.
I've spent the morning defying death. While attempting to make a turn from Mullholland onto Beverly Glen at half past eight this morning, on the way to N's teacher conference, a woman in a black BMW shunned the orange light, ran the red, and nearly ploughed into me at about 60mph. I slammed on my breaks, missed her by an inch, she sped off, and the man behind me rammed right into me. He was a lovely man too, a communications major from UCLA. He jumped out of his car, grabbed my hand and said "That was the scariest thing I've ever seen, are you okay?" I was and am fine. But I don't think I've ever been that shaken up. My friend KB rolled by in her cooking oil-powered Mercedes wagon and shouted "B-dub, you ok?"
I can't help but think that on any other day I probably would have died. So often I find myself looking down at my phone or texting in the middle of the intersection, irresponsible wretch that I am. It was only by some kind of divine intervention that I had the wherewithal to slam on my brakes. I am one very lucky girl.
As Briar gets older her body and features become more human. The flesh hangs off her bones now and the old lady knobbly knees are on show. She crosses them elegantly and sleeps deeper than I would like. Often I have to shake her just to check.
Little M went to school to take her geography final exam (three mountain ranges in Europe: Alps, Pyrenees Balkans) and her teacher called at about 10:15am to have me come pick her up. My poor little; this really has been a long one. My friend e has tried to freak me out by suggesting I contact an infectious disease doctor but I prefer to remain stoic, rely on intuition and hope that her doctor is doing everything the right way. I'm sure if she had something hideous like TB or flesh-eating bacteria or bery-bery we'd notice a rash or something. She's rolled up in her big white duvet in her big pink and white bed, reading, something that up to now she has done as little as possible. For this, I am very grateful. That, and my life of course ;-)