A regular relationship... in an irregular world.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Out like a...


Oh my God… Hello! It's the end of March, Spring is trying to emerge... and so am I! I tell you, I feel like I am returning from a sojourn at Guantanamo Bay. Did you miss us? Miss and I have been all too busy with work stuff, and I am exhausted, pulling my weight slowly up and out of the pit of politics and power that make up prime-time television. As you can tell by my annoying alliterations, I have missed the world of the literary for the last three months. I vow to try and be better with regular posts, and I beg your forgiveness, as we’ve actually had quite a few readers make themselves known to Miss and myself. Thank you for your loyal, ever-present winks and nods.

There is so much catching up to do since we last spoke! Congress has (thankfully) continued to bitch-slap the Bush administration at every opportunity; ol’ Dick got pissed at Wolf when questioned about Mary & Heather’s baby-of-sin; a cute but nervous Ellen hosted the Oscars; and we hit yet another anniversary of pointless death as we celebrated the 4th birthday of the Iraq War. Sigh. Good times, good times.

On the personal front, Miss and I are well. Two of our closest friends, a lovely couple of the same gender, moved in to the apartment below us – so it’s become an L Word meets Melrose Place of sorts… with all of the fun and none of the bad writing. So far, it’s fantastic. The other night, after I got home from work, quite stressed, I decided to alleviate the pain of my stupid job by partaking in dirty martinis and singing my heart out to some classic girl ballads. Miss was sitting on the other end of the couch, bare feet planted comfortably in my lap, enjoying the show and waiting for me to give her olives from my martini when Lez Neighbors sent a text message… before you could say “four lesbians and a cat,” they joined the party and we proceeded to have Dance Party USA in our living room. It was one of those moments you can actually feel the seed of a dear memory being planted. Okay... maybe that was just the last vodka-soaked olive planting my blooming hangover…

More to come! It's great to be back...

XO,
Ms.