Before we start, I should just go ahead and admit that I let the dog eat a bunch of spicy queso even though I could see it turning her nose pink and she did that thing when she curled her lips back like it was too hot but she kept licking it anyway, even though I know it means she’s going to drool all over me in about five minutes, because I am a bad dog owner.
So, yes, heh, let’s return to last night’s post of drunken love.
I’d like to say that being around me when I’m drunk is much different, but, except that it lacks my usual trying to get everyone in the back seat of some car to grope me only to discover that, instead of having the hands of three different people rubbing all up on me, I just continually am forcing the Professor to feel me up, what you saw from last night is pretty much how it is (oh, and I didn’t pass out in a ditch someplace).
I get drunk and love everyone.
Anyway, thanks to John H., though he doesn’t know it, I got hooked up with this theater-y person who wants me to help put together this summer program for girls. Last night was a get-together of some of the women involved and we sat around and bonded and brainstormed and watched the performance the girls gave at the end of the program last year.
It was really amazing. I’m going to work on putting together a website on the deal, because I don’t really feel like I can talk about it coherently other than to say “wow” and that I’m really glad and inspired to be a part of it.
I’ll tell you more about it as it progresses, even though it probably means dropping the anonymity a little more than I’m currently comfortable with. (Though, shoot, if Sarcastro’s going to go around telling everyone how to stalk me, I guess it doesn’t matter if you know my name or not.) And, Christ, I tell you guys about my cooter and my boob freckle. I guess if a day comes when you know my name and face, it won’t be the end of the world.
It just won’t be today.
Anyway, I do love you all. I’m just embarrassed you had to find out like this.