"It's like watching 'Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous.'"
Dixit my father. About me.
Yes, at first I was confused too. Granted, I did write a Novel (she says, in a nasal drawl, waving around one of those long cigarette holders and flinging back a corner of her mink coat) and a entire Dozen of People have read it, but I wouldn't call myself Rich per se.
But it turns out Mr. Res Senior had a point. What he was referring to was My Evening With Stephen Fry.
It all began this past Monday afternoon, when I boarded the Eurostar and promptly proceeded to sleep throughout the entire journey (much partying had been had over the weekend). Two hours and fifteen minutes later, I was in London. I had a couple hours to kill so I strolled down Sloane Avenue and popped in for a glass of Sauvignon Blanc at a Belgravia watering hole with an unpronounceable name (I believe Rachel Weisz was sitting next to me, or at least someone who looked very much like her - with fabulous shoes). Until it was time to make my way to the Royal Albert Hall, sit my behind in the fourth row and gawk at my intellectual idol for two and a half hours. And go home the next morning.
That's right, I hopped over to London for a show. Not just any show, of course; the legendary Stephen Fry is completely worth that kind of extravagance. But still. Even as I was doing it, I couldn't help but have a small giggle. I desperately wanted to wave off someone with a "ta ta, dahling, I'm off to catch Steve."
As for the show, well, it was just grand. But would you expect anything less of Mr. Fry? Part lecture, part reading, part stand-up comedy - it was a fine evening of wit, charm, provocation and exhortation. Bravo, I say.
Besides the sneaky picture my companion managed to capture at my urging (below), I also scored fifty UK stamps during my outing. Fifty stamps that will soon adorn the multitude of self-addressed envelopes I will be sending to agents, along with sample chapters, a synopsis, and a letter offering my first-born or my soul or both if they would only agree to find me a publisher.