Ah, weekend.
Spent Friday night with Shawn at Apex in Dupont Circle, where we went out scoping cute boys.
It was my first post-op adventure out, and I wasn’t much up for dancing because, well, it didn’t feel all that good. So I kind of hid in a corner and danced a little bit there. One good-looking guy came up and hugged me and said, “You’re just too fabulous to be dancing in a corner!” I love him. Too bad he liked penis more than I do!
Another hot boy ordered a drink for me (which was nice, because I kept gettin’ screwed and getting watered-down drinks ’cause I’m a chick — Shawn at least was getting nice, strong drinks), and my drink was thankfully strong. Hallelujah — it shouldn’t have taken eight drinks to get me buzzin’! But without that last drink, I’d’a still been sober.
Last night brought an unexpected invitation from Shan to come visit her and the adorable baby Alex, who is up to a whopping 8.2 pounds these days. I took over a huge pile of gifts that I’ve had sitting here (double-bagged so as not to attract cat hair) for the munchkin. The gift pile included a cute inflatable bathtub, which held all the gifts, but I just lost the ability to blow before it became fully inflated, so it was a sad little duck that had to carry loads of baby items.
I hate it when I lose energy while I’m blowing. Any tips you can suggest?!?!
Shan calls Alex “Fussy Bunny,” because she (understandably) fusses a lot. The kid goes to five doctor’s appointments a week, is attached to a monitor, has acid reflux and is continually monitored for cardio-pulmonary and neurological issues. Like Shan always says to her, “It ain’t easy bein’ a princess! You eat and poop and fuss and smile!”
Lord, that kid is cute. What’s funny, though, is for all her fussing, Shan put her in my arms, and she didn’t make a peep for more than an hour. You just have to be sure to hold her upright, to accommodate the acid reflux, which I did. In fact, I asked Shan if Alex were just being good for company, and she said oh hell no — the little one had seen her paternal grandparents earlier that day, and she’d howled for most of the visit.
We figure, Alex heard my voice nonstop for the seven months she spent baking. I joked that she was always under the table when Shan and I went out, listening and remembering my voice, because she responded to me really well, and even when she was in Shan’s arms, she knew I was there and seemed very cool with it.
I kept making fun of Alex because, while she was in her slumber, she was moving her mouth like she was sucking on a bottle. I kept asking her if she were dreaming of bottles, and Shan got the biggest kick out of that. What do kids dream about? Do they realize that they are being pampered and doted upon by every adult within earshot? I mean, shit, she’s got the John Lennon crib by Carter’s, which plays songs and has a nightlight and, best of all, vibrates? My god, where can I get a bed like that?!?!
I reluctantly left the girls after Alex was fed and started to get a little bit sleepy (she only sleeps for a few minutes at a time, so I figured I’d let Shan enjoy the rare moment of peace. That, of course, and I didn’t want to wear out my welcome — I definitely want to come back, and seeing how good Alex was with me, I might just earn some munchkin-watching privileges so her mommy can get some rest.
I went over to Shawn’s for a belated birthday party for our dear buddy Bryan, who turned 26 on Sept. 12. I’d dropped off a happy birthday cookie from Mrs. Field’s earlier that day, and they wanted me there to cut the cookie. Everyone seemed like they’d enjoyed quite a few drinks before I got there, but when I arrived, Shawn served the champagne. He remarked that he and I always have weird combinations of “champagne and. …” On my birthday, he took me to Dave & Buster’s, where we had “Champagne and Skee Ball.” Last night, it was “Champagne and Cookie.” Lord only knows what our next combination will be, but I look forward to finding out!
It was a good night, albeit a short one. But it was a rare treat for me to see nearly everyone I love in the area, whether at Shan’s or at Shawn’s, and on another rare occasion, I felt glad to be me.