Home Alone

So, I'm not in G. I'm home alone while all my daily friends are de-jet-lagging over pints as I type this. I was still hopeful yesterday that I would be able to hop on the bus at the last minute, but I wasn't allowed. Instead, I went to a kitchen design appointment and to 3 decorator warehouses and to the liquor store (Pimms! I found Pimms!) and to the grocery store. Then I came home and boiled/cleaned my pipe, filled it and emptied it to astonishing effect, and watched most of season 1 of Weeds on DVD. As you may remember, I LOVE Mary-Louise Parker, and this program does not disappoint.

In a couple of hours, I'm going to show off my new house to a crowd of friends/neighbors. Gotta get over there soon to clean up for that. At the moment, there is all kinds of evidence of my relationship with my painter. Things should be boxed and closed and tidied.

WHAT if HeartThrob is at tonight's party?! Wouldn't that be something? Night before last, BB told me about a recent coversation with my HeartThrob, who is thrilled that BB will be managing the bar where I hang and where HeartThrob's band plays. HeartThrob suggested that they learn "Afternoon Delight" to perform with the band. He'll sing tenor, BB will (obviously) sing Bass, FrizBlob will sing soprano (ick), and they just have to find an alto. BB (obviously) knows what part I sing, since we work together, singing, so I'm sure he was up to something with mentioning their alto need. I, cool, coy, asked, "where're you gonna find someone willing?" Instead of replying, "well, if you ever want to displace FrizBlob, you might want to take me up on my helpful arrangments," he said, "we're all choir dorks, I'm sure we can find one somewhere." Of course, I've already iTuned a new recording so I'll be prepared.

I'd love to make out with some fine man tonight in Charleston.