39 and Holding

So, for the rest of the year, will people automatically assume I'm lying when I tell them my age? Not that anyone really asks that much, and not that I give a shit either way. Just curious.

My birthday was lovely, although it was strange to be celebrating without Peach. She's with T-Bone's folks this week, and we'll go fetch her after yet another quick trip to San Antonio on Friday. One of my best friends from high school has a birthday the day after mine, and since she's FINALLY back in the Lone Star State after far too many years in Cali, we want to toss back a few to mark the end of our 30s - and start planning a righteous 40th bash for next year.

Karla May and the Geej, who is once again under my superb care for a few weeks, brought me beautiful flowers and delicious cupcakes, which the Geej nearly threatened to take back after it started raining AGAIN. She told me, "We have enough rain at your house. We have enough." Yes, we do, little one. Yes, we do. But truthfully, as long as it hasn't been 100 years since the creek that runs next to my house flooded, I'll take the wet stuff over the 1,000 degree days anytime. Yeah, so, it doesn't seem like summer. So what. We're all bitching about the rain as much as we usually bitch about the heat, but at least we're comfortable. I could however do without the moss growing on my sidewalk and the bugs that are sadly mistaken in thinking they can seek refuge from the deluge (hey!) in my humble abode. Hear that, frigging scorpions? I'm talking to you, assholes.

And although I need a dish or odd piece of china like a hole in the head (it's an illness, really, this dish fetish I have), Mama Turista surprised me with some pieces of my Blue Italian, including the much coveted:

I got the requisite phone calls from Peach, the in-laws, and my grandmothers, as well as delightful cards from my insurance agent and an airline. So sweet.

T-Bone, once again showing how confident he is in his manhood, arranged another date in September for me and my boyfriend:

He's even going with me to watch. OK, so maybe so are a few thousand other people. No matter. Chrissy will feel me - in his heart ...

I'm still tending to my nasty burn, which has only gotten nastier since I've been putting Neosporin on it for a week because guess what? I'm allergic to that shit! And I knew that! So now I have an oozing rash to go with my second degree burn! The good news? While getting my teeth cleaned yesterday, my dentist overheard me telling the hygienist about my misfortune and disfigurement, and he gave me a prescription for some hardcore burn cream that you can't get on your hands or your clothes or anywhere BUT the nasty burn because it has mercury or poison or cocaine or something in it. Anyway, it seems to be helping, but I fear that my days as a wrist model are over. And I'm not even 40.