Our special tonight is...

We were out with L&L the other night to see The Other Boleyn Girl--Hollywood and Phillipa Gregory's version of the Henry VIII saga.

Critics dished it, but it wasn't that bad. Granted it lapses into the bodice ripping genre on more than a few occasions but I found it enjoyable. And if Gregory is to be believed, the reason Henry split from Rome is due solely to the strategic planning of Anne in her mission to get rid of Catherine and become Queen.

Afterwards we decided to go for dinner so popped into the local PF Chang's only to be told the wait was two hours. It's a pretty good Chinese restaurant, the food's cooked to order so there's would have been that additional wait after we ordered, but it's not good enough to merit that sort of wait. The reason for such a long wait is because PF Chang's is new to the area.

Off we went to Ooka, our local Japanese restaurant where everyone except Larry ordered Tempura--L&L not liking fish, they ordered chicken while I ordered different kinds of fish.

Towards the end of the meal, Lynne held up something that looked like a bit of sausage skin and said, "What is this? I keep getting it in and it's chewy and disgusting."
We all looked at it intently. "Looks like shrimp shell," Lee said.

"No, it's not," Lynne said. "I had Tempura here before and I can't remember this in it. It's very different."

"Maybe it's something vegetable," Larry said. (a piece of Carrot, broccoli and eggplant done Tempura style had also come with it.)

All of a sudden the penny dropped. When the food had arrived at the table, it was beautifully presented in the shape of a pyramid with a huge onion ring keeping it bound together. The entire arrangement was resting on a base of paper doilies.

"Lynne," I said, "You're not supposed to eat the doilie. That's only for presentation."

"What do you mean?"

We poked about her plate and showed her the last small piece of the three doiles they'd covered her plate with to make it look pretty. Lynne hadn't noticed them because the plate was also white.

At first, when we told the Japanese waitress, she went very pale.

"You sick?" she asked.

"No, we're just showing you what she ate."

Suddenly, she realized we weren't complaining and her face broke into a huge smile. "Very funny," she said. He, he, he, he. "Very funny. You want desert now?"

What a nerve!

Goodness. So I open my email this morning and was informed that some chap called Mr. Joe Kerr who's of Irish descent and commissioning editor at one of the biggest houses in the US received the first six chapters of my memoir America and me late yesterday, spent until the wee hours of the morning reading it and rereading it in some fancy New York hotel, and now has made an offer and are prepared to pay a colossal sum. The catch is I have to make my decision by Friday at latest and title should change to From Ulster to here;the saga.

So excited was this person that they emailed the manuscript without my permission to a famous Hollywood director who has already been on the phone to him. Famous Hollywood Director will not under any circumstances allow me to know who she is until I agree to sign on the day I meet her. That is outrageous and wholly un-American. The nerve.
And they want Colin Farrel to play me. Oh, please!!!

What to do? What to do?