I Forgot I Had a Blog

Did you miss me darlings? Don’t bother to rush in answering, I know you did, but I was so busy with the stupid Small Business Week, which is finally, thank you jeebus, dead and in the ground. My last act of the week was to participate on a panel. Of course, there was a crazy lady in the audience who took the opportunity to rail, at length, about some problem she had, or thought she had, with some program totally unrelated to any of us speaking. You could have cut the “What the fuck?” atmosphere with a knife. I finally stepped in and babbled something about how terribly sorry I was to hear about her difficulties with alien anal probes or shipping tariffs or this spring’s hats or WHATEVER she was talking about. I got three compliments later on how well I had handled it, which was particularly gratifying since I still have no idea what I actually said.  I am so good.

Once that was behind us, we had a lovely Memorial Day weekend doing nothing. I extended the holiday with an extra day off on Tuesday when I never got out of my jammies, just sat around reading and eating Ho-ho’s. Completely, absolutely, totally fabulous.

Tuesday was so successful, in fact, I decide to repeat it today with another day-cation and so I here I sit, catching up on the world of my blog sisters.  Happy Anniversary Muscato!  And Happy Anniversary Miss Janey!  Lookin’ swell, soignée and sweet TJB!  Congratulations on your dead rat Jason!  Get back on your meds Thombeau!  And hi hello to all you other darling, miscreant losers, you!

In between exhaustive bouts of doing nothing, I have been productive. Amazing, I know. The garden calls, forcing me to notice the freesia bulbs I planted in a burst of uncharacteristic optimism have come up and are so beautiful. I’ve been unhappy for more than a decade that freesia sold in florists are lacking in the delicate, heady scent they used to have, when I was young and the world a better place. So I hunted down bulbs specifically advertised as producing scented blossoms, and lord honey, they are. So fragile and sweet. I love them.

So does Saki.

And what would a round-up report from me be without Houseboy news?


Gerberus Maxera reports his Interpretive Danse salute to Female Trouble is coming along nicely. I still have not had the heart to tell him the film is not a documentary.

Antonias Firallus still cannot locate his panties. The good ones, with the days of the week embroidered on them.

Marellus Pastelus denies having anything to do with them.