Delightful, then disaster

Things with Delightful Date have thankfully picked up, as far as quality time goes. Not only did he patch up the ensuing franchise problems earlier than expected, his partner decided to take a two-week vacation, leaving DD minding the store. So this means we can probably fit in more face time.

We fit in a considerable amount yesterday afternoon and evening: mischief, dinner, and a late-night run to the mega-sized Half Price Books store. Much to my embarrassment, a young man told me "you look real purty tonight, ma'am" when we were going into the bookstore. I half-expected DD to laugh like a hyena, but instead he simply smiled and said "he's right, you know". My response was to blush to my hairline. Of course, that made DD laugh like a hyena. Waah.

DD was, as usual, his charming self. He wouldn't even let me pay for my own books.

I finally headed home somewhere between 11:30 and midnight, only to arrive at a house where the front door was wide open. Since the only other person around is my lodger, he was obviously the guilty party. Although he's been careless enough to let several cats outside, only tonight had he been idiotic enough to leave the door wide open before retiring.

Although a frantic head count assured me that all cats were inside, I then realized that my elderly dog was gone.

Having no idea where she'd gone, or where she might go, I ended up driving and walking around several hours with a flashlight. Rachel joined me later, and when my idiot lodger finally woke up and realized what he'd done (well, after I yelled at him, telling him what he'd done, and was he crazy or just fucking stupid), he went out looking as well. I gave up around 2:00 a.m.

Thankfully I received a phone call around 10 this morning, from a very nice man who found my geriatric pointer asleep in his front yard when he went out to grab his newspaper. He and his wife had taken her indoors and was filling her with doggie treats when I arrived. She looked tired, but none the worse for wear.

I am hoping the lodger will get the hint and move. I'm at the point where I'm ready to tell my mortgage company to take the house, as I'd rather lose the house than try to deal with imbecile tenants. Sigh.

hormones, quell thyselves

Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I didn't possess any female hormones. Even though I've never wanted to be male, and only suffered from penis envy when on camping trips, having a reasonably steady stream of testosterone coursing through you must be less nerve-racking than the occasionally rampaging estrogen and progesterone (and yes, I do know I have some testosterone floating about as well).

For example, I found myself mooning about this afternoon, not getting much work done. Why? Because I didn't get any e-mails or phone calls from any current, future, or ex-boyfriends. Considering that Delightful Date has kept me well-informed of how hellish his schedule is - his line of business is strangely busy this time of year - one would think I wouldn't fret. But I fretted and squirmed and daydreamed of Obscure Object of Desire. What a ho I am.

The dog ate my car keys, and other late arrival excuses

I sometimes think there's some funky, evil part of my subconscious that wants me to be late to work. Ever since my start time got bumped up to 9:00, and the new boss started noticing when I got in, I've felt petulant.

However, my skill at inventing late excuses has never wavered. Here are some I've used over the last months. Some are actually true.

1. "I had to stop by my doctor's office as he wanted a blood sample for testing." True, once. And this is easy to fake - just stick a Band-Aid inside an elbow and you're golden.
2. "I couldn't find my car keys." This is usually rubbish, as I hang up all household keys. Cats like to play with them too much. But once I lost them as I'd left them on the kitchen table, and a cat was asleep right on top of them.
3. "The traffic is/was really bad." Works well if you call the boss on your cell, and there's a police siren in the distance.
4. "I stepped in dog shit in my front yard." This has happened once. But if you're lying, you still can insist you had to go in and change your shoes/trousers.
5. "My neighbor needed help starting her car." A little engine grease under your fingernails and hey! you're credible.
6. "My mom's doctor called."
7. "I had a migraine." True, but thankfully not nearly as bad as Delightful Date, who has the inherited, particularly painful type.
8. "My asthma kept me up all night." I have nocturnal asthma.
9. "The dumbass lodger let the dog/cat out and I had to chase him/her down."
10. "I'm having trouble with the house alarm, so the people from the alarm company are coming out."
11. "I need to stop by the pharmacy and pick up my prescription."
12. "My hair dryer broke and I had to use a space heater to dry my hair." This really did happen once.
13. "I stopped to vote on the way in." Nobody will EVER argue with this one. Too bad one can only use it every two to four years.

Looking back at the potential value of these highly original, believable excuses, I think I should be charging for these. Maybe I should password this posting.

Need a quick Keith Olbermann fix?

I think some of his earlier hairstyles suited him a bit better. Give the hairspray a day off, Keith.

Repeat REM performance

Even though my dreams of John Savelle have dwindled to nearly zero, he still appears now and again. The last few dreams were/are oddly similar, which leads me to believe I'm trying to tell myself something.

Each dream contains these factors:

1. I decide to seek John out when visiting the UK, but never until the day before I'm scheduled to fly home.

2. I always find him looking younger than he does now, and always in a position where he's kitted out in some primarily red military uniform. Last night, I dreamed that he was in a regiment similar to the Blues and Royals, aka the donkey wallopers.

3. He pays attention to me and usually gives me some token of affection, although things never get steamy.

4. The ending is never conclusive.

I suppose some research might shed light on this, although my first guess is that I am simply being nostalgic about my romantic past. When our affair was on, he was stationed in London at Wellington Barracks - a place with red uniforms galore.