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Yeah. I always have excuses. I have none today, other than the fact that I lunched with the Governor yesterday and managed to kiss him on his actual face (pictured above....I'm on the left, FYI). But other than that, I haven't been doing much of anything lately besides pondering having a personal assistant someday to fetch me lattes while I twirl my imaginary mustache and plan world domination.
So, I'll update you on life and love and dogs and weather and jobs and all that stuff, dear readers. Pack your bags. We're going to spew-town...
First off, my job. I still love my job, love my boss, and love everyone I work with (well, almost everyone), but I'm loving the prospect of Chicks on the Right going places, and the thought of how far we've come in a mere 4 months makes me smile with absolute glee. I usually steer clear of glee, as it seems very clown-like, but this time, it's glee. There's no other way to describe my love for the site, what we're doing, the response we're getting (good and ugly), and the potential for it. Who knows. Life is spectacular in all its delicious ambiguity, after all.
Secondly, my husband turns 46 today. I, on the other hand, am still on the downward slope to 40 - my 38th will be fast approaching here, and that freaks me out a bit. Mainly because I'm faced with shrinking ovaries. But that's neither here nor there. I keep telling Husband-man that 46 is the new 36, and he must remember that both Brad Pitt and Johnny Depp are his exact age. And while they may have more hair, they don't have me as a wife. So he has that, at least.
Third, my puppy Jeb is so brilliant and painfully cute in his floppiness. His feet are as big, if not bigger, than his big, full-grown Great Dane brother's. He is enormous, and he still hasn't achieved the motor skills necessary to use his back two legs individually when he runs, so he instead uses them simultaneously and hops like a huge bunny. He's more than precious, and unlike Zeke as a puppy (he was a raging terror who I couldn't WAIT to see grow up into the wonderful dog he is now), I don't want Jeb to get any bigger. Now I know how Moms of toddlers feel...if you could just stall time and keep them that size for just a little....while....longer...
I went to the Indy 500 with my pal, Miriam, on Memorial Day while Husband-Man was in Singapore on business. It was fun as hell - not what I expected really - even though the gin and tonics really helped with the fun factor and all. Tube tops were a'plenty, and Jim Nabors singing My Indiana Home made me cry. Everything a girl could ask for from her first Indy 500...
Since I've written last, I've also met, and subsequently kissed, the Governor. I've been invited to my reunion (again) and have still not RSVP'd, hoping that I can respond with, "No, I'm sorry, I'll be on Hannity that night in syndication."
A girl can dream, after all.
So, let's recap. The Indy 500 was awesome, my ovaries are shrinking, my husband is getting older, but better, I have assaulted the Governor, my puppy may have rabbit genetics hidden somewhere in the proverbial woodpile, and it's Friday.
It just doesn't get any better than it is right...this...second.
