I'd planned on June being a really calm month. A month in which I would get into the routine of editing/writing the memoir uninterrupted every day. July is going to be one big blur of beachy travel, so June was where it was at.

This week in particular, I was going to clean house. Tuesday the Salvation Army was set to pick up my stuff. After hearing Chad's seminar on Eastern Medicine, the Yin and the Yang etc., I realized that my desire to get rid of all my old furniture from the grad-school-era was a subconscious homage to Feng Shui. Anyway, they give you a four-hour window. So Tuesday I'm waiting around. All day. At 4 p.m. I get a message from the driver. They saw that two movers were already here and decided that my building was too busy. You can imagine how well that went over. Fine, rescheduled till Thursday.

Cut to Thursday. I wake up, head downstairs to walk Wally in my usual loungewear/pyjamas, and this is what I encounter:
A film crew. Great. (Did I mention how my camera broke during Mercury Retrograde? These are from my Sidekick.) That show Burn Notice on USA films in Miami. Well, 'Shit,' I thought, 'how the fuck are the Salvation Army going to get through?'. They'd closed off one street and the other one was open to local traffic only. I HAD to get that stuff out of my house by then, for I'd completely rearranged all the other stuff to fit around my new layout. Translation: My apartment was in total disarray and as a result this Type-A biatch was freaking out. Oh, did I mention that once I realized they were filming in my building I changed into a cute sundress and put a lil' makeup on? ("You nevah know." in the voice of a Jewish yenta.)

I talk to the cops guarding the street and they assure me that they will let up cable guy etc. I'm being typical Steph, running around like a loon, on the phone, talking loudly etc. I know many people, probably lots of you readers, like seeing something being filmed. And I'm sure it is pretty cool if you don't see it a lot. And I think it's really cool too when they are filming something cool and not, say, Burn Notice. So, yes, I was being snobby and elitist. A-list filming, okay, use my building. (Sigh, on the Upper East Side I saw Patsy and Edina filming the last episode of Ab Fab outside my building. Here it's Burn Notice. Enough said.) On like my fourth trip outside, I walk up the steps and see this cute dude, whom I recognize but don't know by name. Now I'm not so furious about them interrupting my day.

"Lipstick Jungle, right?"

It was Brooke Shields' hubby from the show. He's a Brit and looks A LOT better in person. Very silver-fox sexy even though he's only 40 according to IMDB, which translates to 50 in Hollywood years.

"Yes, that's right I was on that."

"You were really great. Really great show."

"Ah, thanks, yes. Cheers." (Or something along those lines.)

Lipstick took a while to get its footing, but then I really got into the show. My god, the wardrobe-ing alone, to die. The storylines were good, but the actors were really great. Really great. There'd been all this debate about was it coming back or not, did they pick it up again, blah blah blah. I wasn't sure what the final outcome was though; whether NBC had given the show another chance. So why not go right to the source?

I turned around. "Is it coming back?"

"No, no it's not."

"Damn, that sucks. Really good show. Bye!"


Another eloquent American, I'm sure he thought.

Meanwhile, I'm still dealing with the fallout from the car wreck, still driving a Jewish-grandmother-worthy black Lincoln Town Car. I do five-point-turns just to back out of a damn parking space.

Now cut to Friday. I'd been waiting on a damage repair estimate from the body shop where my car is. Well, check this shit out: My car was a 'total loss.' And it held its value, meaning, I'm walking away from this accident with the car lien paid off by State Farm, and a check for $3,000+. Hello new car. Goodbye ownership. I'm leasing a car this time, like most normal people. So, score on the car front.

By that time—mid-afternoon—the skies had opened up. We are in hurricane season. One minute it's sunny, the next you'd swear the apocalypse was coming. Wally was in the bedroom cowering, all of us beach-dwellers were trapped indoors. By early evening, we were in a flood zone. It was hailing. We got 12 inches of rain in one hour. According to the news, a car was seen floating down Michigan Avenue. The crew was supposed to be filming on Friday as well. I gather they did film in the a.m., but they'd started to tent up by afternoon sprinkles. They'd shot a car crash scene the day prior and parked this sweet stunt car in front of my building.

For whatever reasons, they failed to remove the car before the floods. I'm guessing that car is considered a 'total loss' as well. You can see the 'after' photos below. This shit was pretty serious though. Four-foot-high waters over in Ben and Laura's hood. From the looks of the debris on what was formerly Wally's favorite poop spot, I'm predicting a Cholera outbreak pretty soon.

From my couch, mid-afternoon, looking at an invisible Star Island. (Star Islanders never want to be invisible FYI. Ick.)


A couple hours later outside my bldg, do you see the tail end of that 'wave' caused by cars trying to drive in this?



And USA Network's total loss car of the week in the left foreground.

Crazy. The real highlight of the week though—even better than finding out I'm getting a new car—was learning that I'm being named one of South Florida's most stylish people by one of my favorite magazines here! (I think mom is more excited about this too. And all my friends and family for that matter. Does this mean I can write off my clothing now too?) I'm shooting with Tomas on Wednesday and the issue should be out later in the summer.

Today I went car shopping with Faye at the BMW dealership nearby. That is a whole other story in and of itself, but suffice it to say I had an anxiety attack while I test-drove the new 128i or whatever it's called. Car shopping is quite overwhelming, and it's like time-pressurized because I have to say bye-bye to old car tomorrow, collect my personal belongings, downgrade the rental car and then either find a new car ASAP or pay out of pocket for rental.

Meaning I'm signing off before I have another attack.

Oy. It's going to be another crazy week.