GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS

These girls, where do I even start? These ladies are my rocks, my stability, my laughter and my dog sitters. They talk me down from the ledge, they take me to dinner and they call me at the most appropriate times.

And we had a BALL, a Momus BALL, on Saturday night:



Here's to...

BFFs - Bow Fluffer Friends. 'Cause if it's flat, it just looks cheap.

Open bar champagne, all night long.

...which leads to Liz on stage, leading the "Electric Slide" and grabbing the nearest mic. Geez, what is it with me and microphones?

Rollin'...rollin'...rollin' on the river.

Photo booths and Charlie's Angels poses.

Chandliers in tents. Of course.

Cleanin' up our boys, a week of tuxes.

.....

MJ has now avoided wearing a tux to not one, but THREE events and I explained to him in no uncertain terms, that we would be at next year's Momus Ball.

Because I have a feeling we're going to be blessed with girls.

And girls in Galveston have to be presented. Simple as that.

There is nothing like cheers-ing to "Happy Mardi Gras"!

THE JOKES, THEY NEVER END

After approximately 2.5 hours of sleep, I rolled my hungover, Motrin filled Mardi Gras booty to Jimbo and Jenny's, sunglasses on to find....

Garage door up.

Machines grinding.

Jimbo and his friend, MAKING SAUSAGE.

Two men on Montrose, making sausage.

Does anyone ELSE FIND THIS AMUSING?!?!

I dug through the rover for my camera, I felt obligated to chronicle:

The scene, at least Solange doesn't live next to them anymore - this might have made TMZ:



Nice, er, meat.



Jimbo, ready to take all the sausage jokes by the by...because he is a FOODIE, and FOODIES ARE GEEKS OF THE DINNER TABLE:



The cast of characters: sage, jalapenos, fennel, garlic



What is that? Tungsten?!?



And while it might seem RED FLAG dangerous to eat anything produced by this debacle, Jimbo cooked a piece of habanero fennel sausage for us later that night and it was nothing short of fantastic...sweet fennel, spicy lingering heat from the habanero...delicious!

Jenny responds to my email with the pictures:

"Luckily we weren’t there when the casing was going down. That could have been bad. Very. Bad.

MOMUS 2027

IV and I went to the Casa de Buergler the other night for pizza and playtime with our girl, Elle. Elle is a little bit younger than IV but BOY HOWDY did they get their playtime on.

Elle has MUCHO ELMO so IV was impressed, of course, and only occasionally grabbed toys out of Elle's hands.

We're working on the concept of "sharing" - thanks for helping us, Elle!

Francie and I were dishing about Momus and Mardi Gras the next day and the fact that Elle will be presented in about, oh, 17 years and that maybe IV will be her date!

Isn't it fun to think that all these kiddos are going to be growing up together? Playing and - gulp - dating and getting into trouble, all together?

Here's to Daddy Buergler and keeping these kids out of Elle's play tent:

MAMBO

Side note: I did promise myself that I would attend a Mardi Gras Ball this year, because I do love it so and I missed Holiday Ball and therefore haven't worn a gown in over 8 months.



Galveston standards, they do exist.

SO....tomorrow, Erin P. is going to cut, color and fix my hair, I am putting on makeup and strappy heels and a FABULOUS gown courtesy of HH and third-wheeling it with the Sullivans and Johnny.

Which is sort of ironic, because the first year I moved back to Galveston, I totally crashed Momus Ball with the Sullivans.

"Who's going to stop you if you're wearing a formal gown?" Kelley demanded.

And that may be my motto for the month of February.

WARWICK AVENUE

Is anyone tired of me writing about making out with MJ?!?!

OK, OK. I get it. I mean, my parents read this. Sorry Dad!

I spent the day with MJ yesterday and while I have neither the time nor the energy to write about all the crazy decisions and thoughts swirling around in my head, I will say this: I am impressed. MJ impresses me and shows me that...

1. He is there. ALL THERE.

You know, everyone had that little creeping thought: what does MJ's mental status look like? Does he know who he is? Does he know who we are? What does he know? And MJ has shown us that he totally gets it. He can't control his emotions or his body...his movement is very typical of someone who suffers from a brain injury. But he hears and he understands what is going on.

For crying out loud, I caught him checking me out when I was leaned over adjusting the tv in the family room this week - and when I busted him, he cracked up laughing.

Nice.

2. There is a path ahead.

If we were looking at this situation, this point, for the rest of our lives, my decisions would be much harder to make. But MJ shows me that every day, he learns. He masters. He controls. He improves and big things happen.

Because first there was ICU and codes at 3 AM. Trachs and PEGs and PIC lines.

And then there was Galveston. Awareness. Smiling. Movement. Sitters.

And now there is TIRR. No tubes. Sitting up. Laughing and participating. Missing me. Kissing me. Putting his arms around me and pulling me in close.

The path - it lies ahead for me and for him, shiny and bright. It may be long, but wow, is it beautiful.

Many of you are (rightfully) worried about me. All I can say is that I am aware of the pitfalls. I am aware that my hair looks like ass, which is why I'm spending half the day with Erin tomorrow.

Isn't awareness one of the steps? Oh wait, that's acceptance...or admitting I have a problem. Whatever, 12 steps.

I texted my dad this morning about the weekend and ended it with...

Me: "Daddy, I need Botox"

Dad: "Bullshit. U look good."

Me: It's all fixable, isn't it?"

It's all fixable. Nothing that a little hair color, injections and therapy won't cure, right?

SYRUP & HONEY

I went on a music spree this morning and so far I highly recommend:


"Lisztomania" - Phoenix
Watch this incredible homemade music video and fall in love with open air buses and live music in crowds.

Twirl someone.

Try to twirl them in front of the Eifel Tower, just for effect.

"Honey In The Sun" - Camera Obscura
DEAR GOD WHY CAN'T IT BE SUMMER ALREADY?

Because all I need are shorts, flip flops, hot summer heat and PDA.

"Delayed Devotion" - Duffy
Go to your kitchen. Pull out mixing bowls. Dance around to this song and sing into a whisk and or spatula.

Point at the dog and hit another octave.

He'll appreciate your soulfulness.

"Hometown Glory" - Adele
Chills, chills, chills. Another glass of wine, please.

MERCY

Some people ask me how I am doing - with this, all of this.

I am beating a constant path between home, day care, work, TIRR, temporary homes (thanks Tiff Tiff and J&J) and back. I don't even think about it - I just hop in and drive, from here to there, constantly.

I am essentially living out of an oversized bag and off of diet cokes and red wine.

I have submitted to carrying a toddler arsenal in my vehicle because I know better than to think that I have time to get items from home for IV. It's better than Girl Scouts - it's called OCD!

How do I do it?

Every day MJ gives me a gift.

Sometimes they are seemingly small - like a smile or restfulness.

Sometimes they are too huge for emotions - like kissing me back, like a REAL kiss, the way we used to kiss and it amazes me how it immediately sends my heart from zero to 5,567,364 miles an hour, pounding and electric and completely absorbed into him.

Many things have changed and will continue to change, but the rawness and the melding of our hearts is something that has remained the same. It's so utterly beautiful that sometimes I think it can't really be happening.

But it is. And that's how I do it.

MAKEOUT CENTRAL

MJ and I have much in common - one of the first things I noticed is that we both listen to music at every waking second.

In the shower, in the kitchen, in the car, at work.

We have iPod docking stations in almost every part of the house. The first night he cooked for me, he had a carefully selected "Kings-of-Leon-Get-In-Your-Pants-Mix" - which worked out quite well for everyone involved.

SORRY! Did I say that out loud?

I heard this song today and boy, does it ever make me want to buy purple tights and not shave MJ for a few days, just so I can makeout with him looking like a cave man.

French Navy - Camera Obscura
*what is my obsession with Paris lately?

PROBLEM?

I'm not sure what I could have written that would have prompted this Google ad:

Galveston, TX Drug Rehab
A Unique, Affordable Alternative To Typical Drug Treatment. Call Today!

Note: keep Klonapin references to a minimum.

ODE

MJ thinks Galveston is ghetto.

And now thanks to Abbey, I have a response:

"IT'S NOT GHETTO. WE CALL IT CHARMING."

While MJ is unable to argue with me about the shortcomings of my Island, I want to take this opportuntity to brag about it.

Wherever I go, I am surrounded by friends.

When I catch a pre-dinner drink with Onion and Clay, I run into Buerglers - and I get to walk around with IV's girlfriend, Elle, while her mommy and daddy get to eat dinner with both hands.

And B and I discuss how when Elle and IV go to prom together, Daddy Buergler will probably be wearing his velour Puma tracksuit.

When we go to dinner at Saltwater, the managers send us three complimentary desserts. Because 4 girls = 3 desserts.

When I go to 21, Tom knows I drink goose and tonic with extra lime. Even though it's been a long time since I've been to 21.

And when we go to Yaga's, Mike D. calls us out and tells us we're TOO OLD to be at his establishment. To which I WOULD take offense, had I not actually spent a lot of time there when I was in HIGH SCHOOL.

14 YEARS AGO.

So the jab, it's a little appropriate.

Or a lot.

When I need help, it's only a phone call or a text away.

I am never alone in my town.

And I get to watch the sun burn over the water every single day.

I remember this past summer, I was meeting up with MJ at his parents house after a hair appointment. As I pulled up, he and B met me in the driveway.

Window rolls down.

"GET IN."

We settled at Float Bar on the Seawall, and MJ launches into his famous "You Know What Your Problem Is?" speech to me and B.

I can remember B telling MJ that he was crazy to NOT want to live in Galveston. How could you not want to wake up every day to this place and to enjoy all that it had to offer? And that given the opportunity to live here and work here, B would take it in a second.

Give it 6 months.

Funny how life works, isn't it?

Happy birthday, B.

I think you and I got our wishes of us all being together on the Rock.

And I have nothing but good feelings about how it's all going to work out.