I did a lot this weekend. See, the obvious joke would be to say something about Ned now, under the category of Things I Did. But I will not. Because dignified. I'm dignified like Rip Taylor.
Anyway, I have a lot of weekend to tell you about, and Ned is right this second complaining about work things, as I am TRYING TO WRITE, and he knows the rule and yet has clearly disregarded said rule. Before we moved in together, I said, If I am at my computer writing, there is no speaking to me unless something or someone has actual flames bursting out. Not Edsel's-acting-a-little-gay flames.
Speaking of which...
New dapper collar for Edsel. "Man, that is one gay collar," said Ned, and by that I think he means happy and whimsical and nothing that smacks of homophobia. Because Ned is NOT homophobic, although he has never kissed a man. I asked. Am I the only one who figures all boys kiss and play swords and so on? And yet hardly anyone I've dated has admitted to such a thing.
One of the things I did this weekend, obvs, was to think about gay young boys and also go to PetsAren'tSmart and get flea meds, because nothing strikes fear into Ned's heart more than the idea that we get infested with fleas. He's very tidy, Ned is. My point is, I am physically unable to walk into that store without lusting for all the pets. It's like going to a strip club, looking at some strange.
"PLEASE can I have that kitten?"
"There is nothing I like more than a knobby kitten head," I announced to Ned.
"Wait," said Ned. "More than a puppy head? More than Violet?" That was the PetSmart where someone put Violet in my car. That was an excellent day, that day was.
"Yes, more than a puppy head. Puppies are a close second. But nothing beats a teensy kitten. Why can't I have a kitten?" I said. I see no reason I can't have one.
"I feel like if it were up to Tallulah, she'd wear a plain brown leather collar," I mused.
"If it were up to Tallulah, she'd ride bareback," said Ned. "She'd be free of any collar." He's right.
I act like that trip to the pet store was the highlight of the weekend, when in fact it was a blip. On Friday night, we went right after work to this brewery to meet up with some of the people from my work, and at midnight, those same people had ended up on our front porch and Ned made jalapeno margaritas. Our porch is perfect for entertaining. I mean, it's small, so "perfect" isn't really a word that's remotely accurate. Our porch is pretty good for entertaining.
I like Ned's people. They are always nice to me, and they aren't all uptight or anything. I once dated someone whose family was really quiet, and I was nervous as a cat around them.
Ned's brother and sister-in-law have a dog with the cutest feet ever invented on a dog. He growled at me, though, because I had the nerve to get too close to his food, like I was dying to reach in there and grab some dog kibble when I had a big dish of macaroni and cheese available to me on the table. Whatever with that dog. Still. Muppet feets.
On Sunday, Ned and I schlepped to Winston-Salem to see a dumb French movie with Catherine Deneuve, that of course had naked people in it, because French, but they had those depressing real bodies, not Hollywood bodies, so eh. Plus, that theater usually had excellent popcorn, and yesterday it was clearly old. Attached please find Ned telling a story about someone dancing, I forget who.
Attached please find Ned laughing because I showed him how I'd managed to capture on film the elusive Ned dancing moment. Look at that floozy with the legs a few tables back. I admired her shoes throughout.
The restaurant we went to had an Art-o-Mat machine, which I've told you about before, GOD. They took old cigarette machines and put in little boxes of art you can buy for $5. Naturally, I bilked Ned of five dollars and screamed on over to the Art-O-Mat.
I guess that sums up my weekend, but oh! Marvin went to LA and just knocked on the door of our good friends Robe and Beige, to surprise them, which KILLS ME and I wish I could have been there, except how weird would that have been. Hey, Ned, I'm headed to LA with Marvin like the old days. You don't mind, right?
They all went to Antonio's, which is where the six of us would meet up. Look, there's Marvin in the back, there, with his two man dates. Then in the gray v-neck is my stepsister, Mil, who married Marvin's best friend Bill, the guy who's feeling her up. At the front on the left is my friend Beige, whose songs I use a lot for my end-of-year slide shows, and her husband Robe, who I would get on the phone to call Beige and end up talking to him for six hours then saying, "I have to go. Tell Beige I said hi."
Oh, I can't even stand it. Marvin also went to our old house, where we lived under Rik, and sent me photos of that.
Sigh. I miss LA a little.
Okay, bye. Here's my latest Purple Clover, which I revamped from a blog post I wrote awhile ago. I can't wait for Purple Clover to put it on Facebook and see the comments. "Those inflatable men are funny!" I adore people who just looked at the picture and didn't read the article. ADORE.