well, at least i had ONE hangover this weekend...

gaawd.
but it wasn't a bad one, actually.
yesterday was a beautiful day, as is today.
we had a lovely dinner, at the bar at the Outback.
and some damn fine beer--cold, and taaalll.
the bartender was awesome, my new best friend, i think.
and then we went to our friends' house for a bit of a party.
and i remembered again why i love my husband's group of friends from high school so much:
they're like family to each other, they have so much history, so many great stories.
they remind me of my friends...back home.
this one guy--pleasantly inebriated--hadn't seen me since right after i had the twins.
i had on a short denim skirt, some sandals and a tight black v-neck shirt...
yeah, i'll say it--i looked great.
but he was hilarious: looked me up and down, slowly, several times, while saying, "wow, Lisa, you got skinny...i mean, skinny...you're skinny..."
i think he was afraid to say anything more, or anything different.
cuz...i might look okay, but skinny is NOT the best word to describe me.
i don't know, to me it was funny--and, of course, flattering.

blah blah blah.

ahhhh....that's much better.
Godsmack.
oddly soothing after a late bedtime for the kids.
JUST got them down (it's now ten pm)
and i may not have seen the last of them...

um.
it's sunday, so what the fuck?
i shouldn't even bother writing.
but if you didn't read yesterday's post, it was--at the very least--more entertaining than this one.

and i'll have you know, i succeeded in mostly removing a certain pole from my ass that was causing me some difficulty.
feels gooood.
i can breathe again.
???
whatever.

does anybody want to come over and clean my house?
and no...
that is not code for "make sweet love down by the fire".
but if you wear a french maid's uniform while cleaning, i will definitely reconsider.
nothing sexier than a cross-dresser.
um.
not true.
actually, nothing turns me off more.
but, you know...i couldn't mention cleaning and sex and NOT bring up the maid's uniform thing.
that has to be one of the most cliche fantasies in the book.
okay, okay--i'll wear the french maid's uniform, but you have to clean.
just who in the hell do i think i'm addressing here???
none of my readers are local (at least i hope to GOD they're not...)
it is my deepest fear that one day at the gym someone will come up to me and say...
"are you the boredhousewife?"
okay, maybe "deepest fear" is a bit of an exaggeration...
i would love it, okay?
it would make my frigging day.
but i still fear it.

you know, these godsmack boys are awfully angry.
someone ought to give them a hug.
(i believe a siren just went off, and a flashing sign has appeared over my head, "OLD OLD OLD OLD OLD")
okay, i was kidding.
but really...
i would take the lead singer's clothes off and give him one hell of a "hug".
...if that's what you want to call it.
hey, as long as he's a little happier when i've finished, what's the difference, really?

i wish i had my own private gym so i could sing along with my music while i work out.
i mean...
i guess i could still do that.
i would get some killer funny looks.
especially if i pretended to believe that no one could hear me.
yes, i've been hitting the crack pipe a little harder than usual today, why do ask??

i really need to take some new pictures.
of anything and everything--but also of myself.
maybe i'll take one of my tan lines.
oh wait--i don't have any.
yes, don't worry--i'm rolling my eyes, too.
what a dork.

well, i seem to have run out of things to say.
and just in the knick of time.
later dudes--