Click images for desktop size: "Eight Bit Gaming" by Carlos Eduardo I've been to a lot of parties in my life. Mostly for business, at least that's what I told myself.
I've been to parties with A-List celebrities schmoozing in corners, while B-List celebs checked me out to see if I was worth talking to.
I've been at parties where I had no business being there. Where bands with a top ten single played on a tiny stage at the end of a pool, while an actress who was on the cover of that weeks people magazine, where she'd made a splash explaining why she'd never do a nude scene, danced languidly and nude ankle deep in water on the pool steps.
I've even been to a party at the Playboy Mansion, invited by Hefner's wife. We talked about dogs most of the time. My main memory was how they'd managed to find so many attractive young women who wanted to sleep with old. balding and pudgy men.
The better parties were the ones at the beach. Where we sacrificed surfboards for a bonfire and our brain cells to Micky's Big Mouthed Malt Liquor. We debauched ourselves until dawn in a vain hope that we could entice the Hawaiian god Huey to send us some tasty waves.
I've been to parties all over the world. Enjoyed myself in Milan where I was the only person there who didn't speak Italian and no one else spoke more than a phrase or two of English.
I go on about it so you understand that I have some sort of standard to gauge things against so that when I tell you the best party I've ever been to was last night. My best friend and four dogs.
We went to a restaurant and had french fries ala mode . . . My friend and I didn't, the dogs did. One of the pups was misbehaving moderately badly. He was just too cranked up at being outside and the idea of dining al fresco was too much for him. He took it upon himself to act as a guard to keep the gate crashers away. There were several. As they kept coming his voice got higher and shriller till. at the end, he no longer sounded like a giant beast but more like a yapping toy poodle!
My little blind dog took everything in stride. He was happy to be eating. He loves going out and was in full joy mode. He was having so much fun I didn't even think until now
Click images for desktop size: "Dolls" by Luis Royo how sad it is that he no longer has the endurance to take long walks around town.
The "Angel Dog" was delighted to be out and perplexed by it too. He insisted that his dinner be served to him by hand, on a plastic fork thank you. He graciously allowed my puppy to eat his dregs, a revolting looking melange of melted ice cream and brown gravy. My puppy licked it up like it were a special higher grade of ambrosia.
We spent the rest of the evening remembering, looking at souvenirs of the past 3 years. Like my mini-screwdriver set that our foster puppy Noelle chewed up. They still work well enough. My Armani prescription glasses that my puppy made into a mangled pile of wire. My souvenirs.
The only smudge on the entire day was a phone call from the vet's office. I'd made an appointment for the 4 guys to have a heart worm blood test, prior to getting them their heart worm medicine. They had told me it would be $32.50 per dog when I made the appointment, which is cool and reasonable. They called to say that price was a mistake and it would be nearly 90 bucks a dog instead!
One of my chores today is to find a saner vet.
My other chore is to put the finishing touches on the little sun garden. I feel good about this. It was mainly destruction and breaking stuff so its nice to see it completed and ready to be used.
I also have grandiose plans to help my puppy prepare her description of her birthday party. Too many emails demanding it!
As to me. I'm happy. I've settled into that weird crabbiness I'm prone to. I'm tired and a I have a horrid phobia about fatigue. I keep fearing that its the end of the remission. I have plenty of tests I run to remind me of the fine line between being tired, exhausted and fatigued. I'm fine.
I'm uncomfortable. I still have those times when I find anything touching painful and loathsome. They don't last long. Its just the general feeling of being uncomfortable physically. of feeling that itch in my bones makes me shorter than I'd like to be.