Mad Happy Dance!

My babies come home tomorrow!

I’ve missed them terribly, but I’ve also really enjoyed the last three weeks of relative solace. It’s strange to be suddenly free of direct parental responsibility and able to do Whatever I Want.

Some highlights: A pool party at Joe’s house (he invited me as his co-host…eep). Thomas’ first overnight in my new house. My friend Aaron from LA coming to town, which was at once hell damn fun (Simpsons movie, midnight burritos and hilarity) and strained (awkward sex moments which pissed me off and reminded me why I’m always a little cautious with my emotions when we’re together). It worked itself out in the end, though, so that’s good. And a semi-new lad whom I’ve yet to blog, but who seems to be sticking around for a good while, so more news when I’m caught up with other stuff.

Like, did you know, I have a DOG?

He is awesome, and I can’t believe that some dumbass person just left him for whatever reason. He was waiting for me at the Humane Society last Saturday and after a few baths and a clip he is sweet and gorgeous. And big. Because little dogs bug me. He’s a Standard Poodle and his head comes to my waist and his name is Churchill.

So, he has an allover afro, because I don’t rock that whole foo-foo Poodle cut. Also, check the Paul Smith-esque collar and lead. Aw, yeah, when we go walking, heads turn at the hottness.

So, boys! Dog! House with a yard! Which I MOW! With my push reel, Norman Rockwell blade-type mower! It’s almost too much, right? Your brain is reeling, yeah? Mine, too.

Finally, last night I was out with friends at a local bar where I sweetly requested a bourbon on the rocks, “But, like, really small rocks, like pebbles, really. Bourbon on the Pebbles.” The bartender looked at my cleavage, smirked over his soul patch and drawled, “Aiight, darlin’.”

This is what he poured me.

I believe I will be paying another visit to Soul Patch Boy, whose real name is Walker. Gotta love a dude who was named after a whiskey. (Hopefully he wasn’t named after the Texas Ranger, though if it yields me cheap, strong drinks and free pool, I really don’t care. Chuck Norris is a badass.)

I also believe that I am a much better pool player when my props are the above glass and a pool cue which I semi-consciously kept caressing like a you-know-what.