but good god. did i sign up for a hangover? I don't remember asking for that.
What a circus.
how do I capture the essence of the last 24 hours? um. lots of extra people at my house, in my space. sort of good, but overkill. anxiety causing. stressful. they watched our kids so we could go to this halloween party....
the party was pretty fun, but probably not worth all the chaos.
we learned to play craps. the guy who had the party has a full sized, real craps table in his game room. oh, and when i say "we", i actually just mean my husband. I played the slot machine for a while, then returned to gossiping with the women. One of the men there is a race car driver. so there was a lot of talk about racing and stuff. I used to think i wanted to drive a race car (back when i was young and had a thing for speed. oh wait, i still have a thing for speed.)
And somehow i managed to bring up NaNoWriMowhich, trust me, was not a smooth segue, but I made it happen. ("so, anyone need a refill?" asked an unsuspecting party guest. "No, but I'm writing a book right now.") smoooooooth. Smooth as polished mahogany. Or, rusty barbed wire. whichever. Okay, so it wasn't that bad. but as i gave the plot summary one of the women said. "I did that." (ran away from her family, leaving behind teenaged children). kick me in the gut. "Uh..." stuttered Lisa trying to swim out of the shark invested waters of The Bay of Too Much Intimacy for People I Just Met. she only moved an hour away, but she still had severe guilt and angst, etc. soooo...in other words, it was a good research moment for my book.
god. it really is all about ME, isn't it? thank you sun, for making an orbit directly around me. thank you stars for shining in my honor. thank you ocean for giving the control of your tides to me. and thank you wind for howling my name.
ooh, that reminds me. there was some talk of hiring hot nannies, and i piped up, "hey as long as i have my own personal pool boy, i don't care what else is going on." we don't have a pool, but i argue the necessity of that. I mean, if the point of a "pool boy" wink wink is to service me and not the pool, then why bother with all the mess and chlorine and insurance problems? I guess he could be a lawn boy. i just like the rich old lady shagging her 20-something hired hand sound of "pool boy". And this is why I'm a dirty old man.