So, to the person from whom they came: thanks, again.Today was brunch day. I'm not usually sociable on Sundays, for good reason. It takes a while to move, and when I do, it's not too pretty. I managed to drag myself out of bed pretty early (8:45?), though, and didn't even give in to the urge to eat...much. I had some toast and orange juice while I pried my eyelids open, read my email, and checked the blogs. I even took a shower, which is so rare as to be almost unprecedented (on a Sunday, of course). At 10:30, I dashed to the ex-house to feed the kitties. On the way out the door, I realized that I hadn't grabbed the camera, but by then I was almost late and needed to keep moving, so I left without it. I ran into the house, fed the cats, opened the curtains (a nice, sunny morning--they dig hanging out in the sun), and ran back out. And drove, essentially, right back where I started; I was having brunch with friends about 6 blocks from home. Unfortunately, I realized as I was pulling out of the ex-driveway that I'd forgotten to grab something from there that I'd intended to take to brunch, but it was too late to go back in without being late. (A trend for the day, yes?) So I left without it. And kicked ass across town, because I didn't want to be the total slack-assed guest who shows up not only empty-handed (sigh, I had good intentions...) but also late. Guess what? I made good time. Too good, since I was 3 minutes early. That might not sound like much, but for me, that's about 18 minutes early. Damn it.
Needless to say, they were totally gracious when I arrived. Well, the humans were, but the canines were woofing and dancing in circles and basically having fits. It was quite exciting. And then, like they'd been tranquilized with some magic, invisible gas, they just went down. On the kitchen floor. With their heads together but lying at an angle (200°?). Very sweet; very odd. Apparently totally normal dog behavior.
I sat in the kitchen on a stool and shot the breeze w/St while he ran around cooking & baking & making me feel very "guestly," by which I mean relaxed and essential but not at all in the way or lazy. After a few minutes of typically stupid banter (me stupid, him banter—we were clearly twins in a former life), Sh arrived, freshly showered and ...not "perky" (I think she might take offense to that?) but "ready to start socializing," prehaps? And we sat & talked, and then we sat & ate & talked (eggs [fantastic] & fruit [which I eat far too rarely, but when it's right in front of me I love it, except those damned cherries] & doughnuts, and drinks to make my headache stay away). We told silly stories and barely talked about work at all.
After a slight pause for dog outage & human food-settling, we took off in my car. I brought them to my place, because St hadn't been before. We all managed to keep straight faces while they suffered through the ridiculously unkempt apartment, which included incontrovertible proof that someone else had been here recently. They were very cool about it, which naturally saved the experience. Ahem. 'Nuf said.
Next stop: the ex-house. I wanted them to meet the kitties. We were probably there for an hour, sitting around talking and playing with the girls. It was really nice. The girls were on good behavior (when are they not?) and they were particularly cute, acting a little goofy and being pretty spunky and wild.
After that, we went back to St & Sh's house and talked for another hour. I slowly made my way toward the door, pathetically milking the last few moments of socialization out of my weekend before heading back to my cold, dark apartment.... Where, now that I've wasted an hour writing this pointless blog post, I can begin washing the dishes that I should've washed on Friday (eeew) and can dash together something half-assed for the writing group meeting at 7:PM. I guess those sweaters will get washed tomorrow (or Tuesday). And I'll put together the new thing some other day, too. 'Cause I really need to watch the movies. I currently have seven checked out from the library: Le Divorce, Breaking the Waves, St. Ives, Dogville, Serendipity, The 400 Blows, and Singin' in the Rain. George also lent one to me: Trick or Treat. The first four are Jean-Marc Barr catch-up films. The next 3 are "try it", "I've heard it's great", and "I love it." And the last...well, the last is George, so I don't want to say 'No' outright. I'm not totally averse to horror, really. Usually.
OK. Really time to do something. I'm almost all the way through The Steve Miller Band Greatest Hits--that's how long I've been dawdling.
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