Scarlett woman
Scarlett Johansson is in my lounge room. I repeat: the world’s highest paid/most beautiful/eminently acclaimed actor is sitting across from me at my cheap Ikea dining room table. It’s 6.30am and I’m regretting not waking up an hour earlier to fluff the pillows on my couch. I say a silent prayer that she doesn’t notice my boyfriend’s well-worn ugg boots in the corner or the heavily concealed bags under my eyes from the early start (and a night’s sleep broken by excitement energy and nervous dreams about my alarm not going off).
If it’s not abundantly obvious, I’m not used to hosting A-list celebrities in my tiny Sydney apartment before dawn – let alone Johansson, the superstar from the Sofia Coppola classic , recent hits and and upcoming blockbuster , which we’re here to discuss on this dark winter morning. “We are so bloody excited for to finally be coming out next year after that : finale and several push backs” I blurt out, instantly kicking myself for revealing my inner bogan so soon.
