"February is a suitable month for dying." - Anna Quindlen, One True Thing

So, I'm not super clear as to where February went. The calendar gods have always seen fit to throw in this ridiculous month which is fraught with problems...fewer days, and then MORE if it's a Leap Year which solves the problem of the Lunar Calendar vs. the Gregorian Calendar. Or that's what I gather from having read about it for .02 seconds on Wikipedia. Then my brain exploded.

February was exceedingly full. We went to Mexico, came back and had Valentine's Day, which Marc and I both completely forgot about and celebrated by having Cory over for dinner and watching Hurt Locker. And then the following week was spent executing the precarious dance that was arranging Marc's 40th birthday surprise party (which was nearly ruined by a wintery storm in which rain drops the size of dinner plates were falling out of the sky...I went outside and screamed STOP IT! STOP BEING SO STUPID AND ILL TIMED, WEATHER! [I said some other salty things too, if I'm being honest] And what do you know? It did! Stop, that is. Just for one day, but that was all I required.) (Otherwise, the party went off without a problem! I highly recommend marrying a gullible man if you can arrange it...it makes these kind of things SO much easier! Hi honey!), and then I've spent the past week recovering from said party and so here we are, on the cusp of March.

It was difficult to come home from Mexico. Because it looked like this:

And was filled with many of these:

Which made us oh so happy and content and lo! Full of much glee! See?

I highly, HIGHLY recommend this kind of escape during the cold months. Normally I would spend February in a mid-winter funk, wanting only to watch tv without my pants on, and then do productive things like whine about how cold I am. I'd don the same, pilly sweatshirt that I swear I've had since the day I was born and retreat to a quiet corner of the house, which happens to be our arctic bedroom and is full of annoying things like laundry that requires folding and random detritus that needs to be put away. But in February, it's easier to kick all of that to the side and hide under my duvet until something nicer, like Spring, comes along. So see, you were saved all of that by our timely trip to the tropics. You're welcome. We'll have to do this every year, even if we have to sell a couple of kidneys to make it happen.

To Santa Barbara we go!

Sweet Moses, people, it's been a week. I think you'll agree - if you live here, at least - that this heat has been a stabby, raging bitch. Not that I don't yearn for summer, because I do. But 93 degrees? When it was, like, 50 degrees last week? Can't we have a gradual climb in temperature that won't cause searing pain to my palms from the steering wheel of my car and extreme bloat due to water retention? Also, my deodorant wasn't prepared to have to work this hard, this soon.

So we're escaping to Santa Barbara this weekend. Andrea and Brit are moving out of their house and going on the Great Adventure of 2009, which means that Andrea is going to trot around Europe for the summer and Brit is moving back to LA. This is highly inconvenient for me, since they are my crash pad in SB, and for that I will not forgive them for at least five minutes. Really, they should have thought to ask me first, but you know, these youths. Only thinking of themselves. Anyhoo, they are having a giant party to celebrate their move. The kind wherein most people will be in danger of throwing up all over themselves by about 7pm. Also, I've heard that there will be about 200 almost completely naked girls (except for conveniently placed glitter) there. These bishes know how to roll. I'll get back to you with photos.

Regardless, Brit is creeping steadily up onto 30. I missed her 29th birthday a few weeks ago, an error I blame entirely on the new Facebook since the birthdays are now listed WAY at the bottom under some obscure heading. I knew it was coming up and then through some other avenue discovered that I had missed it entirely. Unacceptable, Facebook. A pox upon your new layout!

Anyhoo, Brit falls under the category of "People That You Should Know...and if you do not, your life is quite possibly not worth living." Bold, I know, but so is Brit. I was thinking, the other week, of the post I wanted to write FOR her birthday, but then I realized that a lot of my stories about her included mass quantities of alcohol and dialogue that is largely unprintable, but makes me laugh every time I think back on it. So what I'll say is merely that B, you are one of the biggest gifts, people-wise, that has come into my life in the past five years. And that I cannot see cute gay boys without thinking of you assaulting them and how if anyone could get them to switch teams, you might be it. And how you should really give LA a heads up that you're moving back, because I'm not sure that city is ready for you. Happy Belated Birthday, love. I can't wait to see you this weekend.

So more later, once we've recovered and returned home. And yes, I was serious about the 200 naked girls.