You know, dear readers, in all my knashing of teeth regarding my inability to people a nest of my own, I do tend to overlook the benefits of the solitary life.

Such as:

*Blaring Amy Winehouse's "Valerie" at 4:00 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon THREE TIMES IN A ROW because I felt an urge

*Reading for several hours straight sans interruption, and alternating position between bed and sofa sans critical remark

*Eating 98% fat free popcorn for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and NOT ONCE thinking that this kind of diet is in anyway unusual or undesireable

When you let people in your nest, you also let in their CONVENTIONAL OPINIONS.

More horrifically, you tend to start expressing your own CONVENTIONAL OPINIONS and getting deeply cheesed off when the bf wants to play Enya when you're trying to go to sleep.

All I'm saying is that I don't believe dudes should listen to Enya pre-slumber, but I will fight to protect their right to listen.

Not much going on in the Petard-i-verse. I'm trying to join Shortstop's sister-in-law's book club, but the book is The Yiddish Policeman's Union.

I am on page 53 and it is definitely a sucky, sucky book. But I really want to be in a book club. A quandry!

My big problem with the book is that the main character is Jewish.

Just kidding.

My big problem with the book is that the main character is a grizzled, bitter policeman who drinks too much and whose wife has left him.

How come policemen in fiction are always getting dumped by their wives? Maybe there's a clue here to my gettin' dumped problem. I guess I should stop drinking so much.

Burp.

I'm just about leaving for my third bridal shower of the summer. Only a bachelorette party or two and two weddings to go. Or as I see it:

$50 * 2 + $50 * 2 + $20 (wrapping paper and cards) added to $300 already spent = $520 dollars spent this summer on gal pals getting hitched.

$520. Or as I see it:

1 month's rent

I don't begrudge my friends' their happiness - please believe. If only I didn't mind appearing cheap to those I love! Then it'd be socks and underwear all around!

Last Huzzahs

The summer of *undetermined* is almost over, and to celebrate, the friends had a game night to oogle Scarlet A's HOT new roomate, ROCKETBOY.

Me gusto mucho, Scarlet A. He's got all the qualities I've always found HOT: fast/large vehicles, soulful eyes, and a mildly OCD interest in the rules of games.

Only one caveat: veiny forearms. Which isn't exactly a character flaw. Just makes me think about INJECTIONS (and not of the "hot beef" variety).

So I say well done, Scarlet A. It'll be fall all too soon, and long sleeved shirts will cover his shame.

Well, I've received FURTHER COMMUNICATION from Boris vis a vis the dump. Apparently, stress from finishing his dissertation caused the "demise of our relationship" but...wait for it...I am the smartest girl he's ever met "if that helps a little."

And I have to share this (and Boris, if you're still reading my blog, forgive this small betrayal since I promise to never tell anyone what I swore to never tell)...Boris entitled the post-dump explanatory email "pour kitty."

Kitty was his nickname for me.

"Pour" is a mispelling of "poor."

Obviously, I am not a smart girl.

Well, Boris broke up with me, citing "no time to have relationship." Which is better, I suppose, than "turned off by your chunky thighs" or "really into dudes."

Anyway, is anyone keeping a running tally? I must be up for some sort of record by now.

In solidarity with all my girlfriends enduring the crap of the opposite sex...

we salute you!

Also for those about to rock...