We get tons of catalogs. I understand, to a degree. I shop online. They will put you on a mailing list to remind you that you like to buy stuff. We also get some weird catalogs. Catalogs where you can order sweaters with kitties on them, a gold-plated and crystal gecko brooch, a beaded blue jay or an official logo full-size helmet snack bowl. Because nothing says "team spirit" like Doritos and bean dip out of an A&M snack bowl. All the most crapulous goods, made in China, direct to us.
All these strange catalogs come addressed to someone called Rosemary Morris. I figured she lived somewhere on our street, and we just accidentally get her mail. Our street is numbered oddly, so it kind of makes sense. I once had to wait three months for a lip gloss, because the delivery company had great difficulty finding our house. It's not that hard! Anyway, I used to think that one of my neighbors was missing out on some fantastic tchotchkes.
I have since decided that Lucy is using Rosemary Morris as her alter ego. You know she gets up to all kinds of shenanigans when I am not here. This must be the name she gives when the cops break up her parties. She probably has credit cards and a cell phone under her pseudonym. A gmail account. Rental cars. Beer. Cheese of the month club. She's guilty as hell. Look at her:
OMG! it's just like Alias, but with fat Lu in the lead instead of Jennifer Garner.