In my current state of oversharing with you people (and you can complain all you want to, but you keep coming back.. masochists), I must share this with you: I am tired of my intestines.  Something between my stomach and my sphincter is seriously defunct, and I’m tired of it.  It’s been damn well near two weeks now.  What kind of two weeks, you ask?  Two weeks of always spotting the nearest bathroom when I enter a room.  Two weeks of not scheduling a car trip for more than thirty minutes in length.  Two weeks of having to ask other members of my household, "Do you need to get in there before I do?", regarding our one, precious, overused bathroom.  I’m tired of it.  Damn spastic colon crap.  Literally.

Anyway, that was my rant today, and it was fairly minor.

So, after the dogs went at it AGAIN last night, I locked their happy asses out and continued getting ready for rehearsal.  And, might I say, I fretted over nothing.  Nada.  I was so worried about what my house might appear as (you know, owning five animals and a small child.. and Bryan), and so worried about being a good hostess, that I completely forgot the most IMPORTANT aspect of a party. (And yes, I realize it wasn’t a party.  It was rehearsal.  I’m italian and southern, so any time there’s people over, it’s a party.) The most important part of a party?  THE PEOPLE.  And there were some bang-up people in my house last night.

We laughed a lot.  We talked a lot.  And there may have been a little bit of rehearsing.  But more than anything, at this point in time (and especially since I’m covering the group monologues), I want everyone to feel welcome.  I want everyone to look forward to being there, to have a kinship to everyone in the room, and to feel like they belong in that room.  So last night was a very good start to doing that. 

Michelle stayed afterwards and we got to talking about animals.  She’s in the same situation with one of her dogs that we are with Charlie.. even down to the OTHER dog being deaf.  What are the chances?  We commiserated over how fantastic our spastic dogs are, and wished we could find them perfect homes.  Dog people speak their own language, I’m convinced of it.

And then I found a new reality tv program that made me feel fantastic about myself.  It was a marriage counseling show.

I should state here that "marriage" makes me very nervous.  I’m not the girl who can do long-term, I’m not the girl who has settled down easily, and I’m not the girl who knows all the answers.  I’m the girl who fakes it.  So I started watching this program with the notion that I could learn something from it.

HOLY CRAP, THOSE PEOPLE WERE MESSED UP.

And I am NOTHING like that.  So I’m gonna be fine. (.. she tries to convince herself.)

Tomorrow, I’m having a waaaaaay over-due lunch with Keboobalah.  A little thai.  Mmm hm.  Can’t wait.

If I can just make it through today.