I got home at 9 a.m. and then I just woke up. Tallulah was zero inches from me, by the way. She was doing the thing where her snout was up the back of my neck and in my hair. I think she did not like it that I was gone. I am gleaning this in part by the 10-minute undignified waggling when I walked in.
I brought her a treat.
It's some kind of chicken-flavored Nylabone they had at the pet store Paula took me to, and I see Tallulah also absconded with the gift I brought Henry, there. That mouse is decidedly NOT for Talu.
Tallulah seems so petite and bite-sized after spending most of a week with Paula's enormous dog, Buddy. I would guess Buddy is a Great Dane/Rottweiller mix, and I just heard all of you say, "Oh, dear!" at once, and I KNOW. And Paula's house is not what you'd call large.
And by the way, you know I cannot stand it that we're all sitting around speculating about what this dog is. Who's getting a dog DNA test for her birthday? Is it Paula? Will we be swabbing that creature's enormous cheek in the near future? Because I need to know.
At any rate, he is sweet, and like Tallulah, not so pleased with the balloons. Paula got 20395839 floral arrangements this week, and one had a Mylar balloon attached.
Despite the fact that he is 297 times larger than it, Buddy barked and cowered and stared and "Oooo"ed and generally worried himself sick over said balloon, so Paula deflated it for him.
Before I forget, Paula took pictures of Horkie's ash scattering with HER camera, so we have to wait for her to send them to me before I can tell that story. In the meantime, here are my other vacation pictures. Aren't you lucky?
While we're still vaguely on the topic of Paula's flowers, one thing I think I have never told you about Paula is that she is obsessed with the band Heart. Yes. Heart. Yes, the band from the '70s. Yes, with the sisters, Ann and Nancy Wilson. Yes, they're still together.
They tour all around, actually, and Paula and some of her friends tour all around after them, kind of like they are The Grateful Dead sans the drugs. Paula will leave work, fly to New Orleans, see a concert, get back on a plane and return to work the next morning. Seeing as I am in my same clothes I had on yesterday and just spooned my dog in REM all afternoon, I cannot understand being able to do this, but there you go. At any rate, the above flowers? Are from Ann and Nancy Wilson. Of Heart. I know!
And careful readers will note Paula loves the show Hart to Hart and the band Heart. Paula's husband wanted to make her a bumper sticker that read, "I heart Heart and Hart to Hart." Oh, the fun we have at her expense.
On my first day in Seattle this week, I went to my old workplace, where in fact Paula, her husband and I all worked together. We worked on the 34th floor. Other than the three of us? It seemed like everyone else was STILL THERE. In their SAME OFFICES. It also seemed like there was something about the oxygen or something, because everyone looked the same. It was uncanny, really. I am so glad I stopped in. It was surreal yet really fun.
Here was my first big-girl, living on my own apartment in Seattle. I remember being so thrilled with this place in 1992, but when I went back I was all, Wow, this place is kind of dingy and depressing. It had hardwood floors and it was sunny and roomy, though.
There's the old hallway. Because who smacked her camera up to the doorway and took a picture? I remember sitting on those stairs talking to neighbors, while we did our laundry in the basement. I felt so big-city and important in this now-depressing-seeming place. I think I paid $450 a month.
By the way, EVERYONE has a Subaru. With a kayak on top, 90% of the time.
And there's just cool STUFF in Seattle. Everywhere you go.
I lived on the top floor, on the right. It looks sort of depressing, too, but wait, I know I have shown you pictures of the inside of this place before.
Oh, forget it. I just spent 10 minutes looking at old posts and have I mentioned I am tired? Anyway, it was a pretty apartment, built in the 20s, and from my kitchen window was the view of the mountains.
You aren't going to ask me what mountains, are you? Because I never have any idea.
On my last night, some of Paula's 2038030598505383845 friends came over, and did I mention Paula's cell phone rings every eight minutes? And did I mention all of her friends have nicknames, and for some reason, said nicknames are all of the noun variety?
"Toodeloo, toodeloo," will go Paula's cell phone. And I know it's her hour of need, so her friends are probably calling with greater frequency, but I am thinking maybe that frequency is, oh, 15% greater. Because I have known Paula for 17 years now.
"Oh, hi, Can Opener!" she'll say. Or, "Hey, Lhasa Apso! No, I'm feeling great!"
"Smiley Broomstick! What's up! No, I'm up and around. I'm with June. Yes, the one with the blog."
All the rest of her friends must think I'm so weird with just the name June.
Paula's husband, by the way, is as opposite of extroverted as you can be. He is a cranky curmudgeon, is what he is. And yet? Somehow? Everyone really likes him. And everyone always says it like they think they are the exception to the rule. It is kind of like how you know you like Oscar the Grouch. "I really LIKE Paula's husband" people always say.
Anyway, I told Paula that if I were married to her, I too, would be IRRITATED by the 109 phone calls a minute from Credenza and Stapler and Door Handle and her gadabout life. Paula was contemplative. "You are a lot more like my husband than you think," she said.
I told this to my old boyfriend, with whom I had lunch yesterday. We went to my favorite old place on one of the islands; it used to be a brothel and now it's a dark old pub. I had a pile of nachos as big as your head. Anyway I said, "I guess I got curmudgeonly in my old age."
"What do you mean, GOT?" he asked. "You were always curmudgeonly." He was dead serious.
"Yes. You've always been an old grouch."
Really, you guys, I had no idea. In my mind I was an extrovert and I have turned kind of introverted in my old age, especially since I don't drink anymore. That was my theory. Yeah, no. Turns out I've always been crabby and liking of my alone time. Who knew?
Anyway, the final thing I have to show you is I bought a little initial necklace, and instead of my own initial, I bought a T, because I thought it would be cute to wear T like Tallulah does on her collar. I have officially gone around the bend.