What's happenin', hot stuff?

Not blogging. That's what's happening.

I think I crammed a few month's worth of conversations and general social interactions into one weekend: our wedding. Since then, I've been pretty hermit-like. And while I'm sure there are whispers that newlyweds sequester themselves away for sexytime? I'm here to tell you that it's because they are damned well tired of talking.

Also? They are starting to feel sheepish about not having started writing thank-you notes. Or even ordering said notes. Ugh.

But today? Today, I have an excuse for not writing thank yous. Today is my birthday. Today, I am 36 years old.

Yep. I guess I can no longer claim to be in my early 30s. But I did get carded last week, so that's totally a bonus.

This is sort of a crappy birthday - I will be honest. My Guy, Poochie and I painted the exterior of our house this weekend. It was cold. I wore three t-shirts, a sweatshirt and a parka. Oh, and pants. I was wearing pants, too. But it was shit-ass cold. And in the middle of it? Well, God has a funny sense of humor. Somebody rented My Guy's house - totally out of the blue. A total blessing! But the funny part? The renters want to move in on Friday. And My Guy is in lovely Sandusky, Ohio, all this week.

Ha ha ha.

So in the midst of painting? The three of us dropped our drop cloths, rented a truck, and packed up and moved the rest of My Guy's stuff out of his house.

Why yes, he had had several months to pack up that stuff and move it out.

Ahem.

I'm exhausted, but at least I didn't have to catch a plane to Cleveland at 7 a.m. Instead, I just have to sit around and sulk about my pooooooor birthday all alone in my dirty-as-sin house.

Which, if we're being honest? Since I'm still sort of hiding from the world? Isn't that bad.

But I did have a moment of introspection in a stall of the ladies' room today at Corporate Behemoth. The year I was 35? I got engaged, bought a house, moved, had boobie problems, sold a house, got married, and assumed parenting of two additional dogs.

What in the world could 36 possibly hold to beat that?

And if you mention a baby, I will beat you with a stick.