Day 11: 22,767 words. Much word-wasting happened today.

I'm at Dad's house right now and Katie, Heather and Jill are writing at the table next to me. Much hilarity ensued when we all got together to write. There were lots of fun/amazing/incomprehensible suggestions for one another's novels and some excerpts that have already made their way into several novels.

I'm at a turning point in my book and just waiting to see what will happen with Seth when she heads back to Oakland. I thought she would get there today, but in 2000 words she only made it as far as the airport. I suppose more plot could have happened if I hadn't been obsessed with describing, in detail, a 7-page fashion spread for Si Greengage. Enjoy.

I pulled a magazine out of my bag and started flipping through it. Si settled down next to me, and I purposely didn’t turn my head to check whether he was staring at me or not. I quickly realized that the magazine was not the optimal choice for this particular moment, because it happened to be the issue of People magazine that discussed Just the T(wo) of Us, and Si was on the cover. He was also featured in a seven-page fashion spread, and those pages were noticeably dog-eared. I had examined those pages in great detail and multiple times; it was stained with orange juice and smears of lipstick from a manicure gone wrong. Really wrong. Suffice it to say that those pages had been very distracting.

Could you blame me? I couldn’t figure out which of the outfits was my favorite. First, there was Si sitting on some kind of countertop beside a man in a lovely turquoise cardigan. Si was wearing a black fedora, and a slim fit grey suit with a low-cut v-neck tee underneath. Si’s blue eyes were staring directly at the camera, and he looked playful and elfin. 

 This was in sharp contrast to the second photo, in which a disheveled and unhappy looking Si was wearing a floppy grey cardigan that was much too big for him. He carried a coffee cup and what looked like a bagel in a white paper bag. His pants were also too big, and his sneakers were forgettable.

 On the third page, Simon wore a tuque and scarf under a grey hoodie, all under a large tweed jacket. These, and his fitted slacks, were in varying shades of grey that did nothing to compliment his complexion. His mustache was scraggly, and his face was puzzled; either by the children he held by the hand in one photo, or the sudoku puzzle he carried in the other. 

 The fourth image was stunning; Si’s hair was cropped quite short to show off the stunning black frames of a pair of glasses, and his denim shirt made him look more rugged than did his usual sophisticated ensembles.

 Surprisingly, the fifth image showed Si in drag, with a blonde wig and some eye makeup that appeared to have been laid on with a trowel. He was wearing many strands of pearls, and little else. Unfortunately, the photo was just a head shot.

 On the sixth page, a casual Si was leaning on a bench, while speaking on a cell phone. His grey tank top rode up to reveal a stretch of bare flesh above his white belted grey denim pants and oxblood shoes. I particularly loved the little buckle on those shoes and had vowed to get myself a similar pair when I could save up a bit of money.

 In the final image, Si looked as if he had been transported back in time to the late nineteenth century (although to be honest, my sense of fashion in history was sketchy at best so I couldn’t be sure what era the image was meant to evoke). In this picture, Si showed his serious side. His back was to the camera but he had half turned to give a stern look at someone off-camera. His bowler hat, dark heavy wool coat and long mutton chop sideburns were off-putting, in a pleasing way.***

All in all, Si showcased a wide variety of looks in this fashion shoot, though oddly enough, all in tones of grey and brown. I snuck a glance at his faded black t-shirt and wondered if he ever let himself wear something with a little color. He caught my look, and held my gaze.

“Interesting article?” he asked. I shrugged. He leaned in closer to see it, and in the process his knee came to rest against mine. I shifted my own leg away, but only slightly, so that our legs were just barely touching. He flipped through the fashion spread, and the article itself. “What do they have to say about the movie? I don’t tend to read this stuff. Better not to know, I generally think.”

“They have some good things to say about the story, and about your role. They liked you. They say you ‘inspire superlatives from some of the world's most sought-after leading ladies. "He's the most beautiful man who ever walked the earth," says Naomi Watts, who starred with Law, 39, in one of the actor's six films this year. "His warmth is what makes him sexy, and it radiates through his eyes," says another costar Nicole Kidman.’” I stopped, embarrassed. I hadn’t meant to tell Si about exactly how beautiful he was. Could I help it if the article focused more on his looks than anything else?

“Well, they also say here that I have ‘supernatural good looks, supersize talent - and so nice, he just might kiss you if you ask.’” He pointed to that particular paragraph and smiled at me. Because we were both huddled over the magazine, his beautiful blue eyes and his perfect mouth were just inches from mine. I leaned back, creating a few more inches of space between us.

“I don't want to flirt with you here,” I said quietly.

“Where do you want to flirt with me, then?” he twinkled back. 

** Yes, I had given up on making sense by the time I got to this part of the fashion descriptions.