Three announcements in the space of seven days.
It started with the last Girls Night In. Yep, one of us is pregnant, just about the end of the first trimester. The youngest of our little group, and the youngest of the three announcements. She's thirty-two.
The second came from my longest-time university-days friend. His live-in girlfriend - they've been together for more than ten years - is just out of her first trimester. She's thirty-nine. She already scored at a Liz Lange sample sale.
The third came from the husband of one of my ten-year-long city girlfriends. Film and video location manager that he is, he had brought in a small Italian crew to my loft, a second unit team shooting background cityscapes for a music video, for an artist-singer, Zucchero. Italian for sugar.
(Never heard of the guy.)
I do have one helluva roof deck and archetypal NYC water tower.
At the end of the shoot, when I told him of the earlier two announcements, he "fessed up" about his wife, my friend. She's just out of her first tri as well. She's thirty-nine. Wowie-kazowie.
They will deliver within weeks of one another, from late April into May 2007, one-two-three.
Pretty outstanding. Pretty delightful. Three little seahorses. (See Jake Lamar's Rendezvous Eighteenth, pp. 305 in the hardcover.)
Must be something in the water. Em, I'll have a vodka. On the rocks, wedge of lime.
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