Tears, fears and (Bronx) cheers

Yesterday was an emotionally fraught rollercoaster. Pure exhaustion stemming from working in the pure chaos that is the Restaurant led to insane and disturbing dreams. I was stark naked in the wilderness and being chased and hunted by two different cults - one - a pack of evil cannibals, the other - led by a charismatic and violent schizophrenic, who is convinced I am his long-lost love.

After attempting to shake off the lingering feelings of dream-dread by ordering many mimosas during breakfast and being hopelessly derailed from that desire by the slow waiter's negligent service, I found myself welling up with tears right at the table. Sam and I were also hastily trying to compose amusingly clever and yet poignant toasts for Amanda and Andrew's wedding. Sam and I are the attendants; you guess who's the best man and who's the maid of honor.

We had to hurry through our meal, because we were determined to make an appearance at an event that we had long been anticipating - The First Annual Boston Terrier Social. We had been seeing fliers for this gathering all over town, and even though we can't actually allow Isaac to romp among other dogs, we thought it would be fun to see all the (normal and socially-adjusted) Bostons running around together.

The event was taking place at Corona Heights Park which is the most beautiful dog run in the city what with its sweeping vista overlooking the entire city. Sam and I are banned from this park because of Isaac's impolite and savage attack on a dopey lab puppy three times his size. The dog was seriously injured and we had to pay for vet expenses. Having left Isaac at home, we were confident, however, that no-one would recognize us as the irresponsible and evil owners of the ill-tempered dog.

What I was not counting on was recognizing Sam's ex-lover, Tietjan the ex-stripper, as the organizer of the event. Jealous, me? Nah, because it was clear to me that despite the uncomfortable number of similarities that we share, a- she is fatter than me, b- her new girlfriend is not cute, and c- she had crooked, jaw-droppingly bad pencilled-in eyebrows.

Whatever. I do not derive satisfaction from other people's misfortunes.

The Social was a resounding success. There were at least 25 Bostons there at any one time. Small ones, big ones, timid ones, aggro ones, ones that wanted to be rubbed and touched, some that were super jumpy, and others that didn't want to let go of their stuffed animals. There was one chihuahua/Boston mix, there were a few with one blue eye and one dark eye, there was one tiny guy with markings on his face that looked like a skull mask. There were only two dogs that were bigger than Isaac and they were both males named Tank. They spent alot of time humping the other dogs, but not each other. Tietjan, who was clad in pink shirt and pink Pumas, introduced us to her little girl dog -- carefully misnamed Tank, as well -- who was accessorized with (natch) a matching pink-rhinestone collar.

Sam and I found ourselves pouring out the sad confessional about our bad boy to anyone who would listen. A grief-stricken older gay man with two other Bostons was passing out Lost posters for his Roccoe who was stolen from his car. He was devastated. Everyone was geeking out. Everyone was talking about their particular pets peculiarites and everyone listened patiently. (It was a mostly diverse human population, old/young, male/female, gay/straight, conservative/alternative but all white. Someday, I want to do hard research about the relationship between black people and dogs.) It was very charming to see all of Isaac's mannerisms refelcted in all these other little guys; the hilarious picket teeth, determined little underbite, licky response to bum-rubbing, dislike of all inclement weather, play style, etc. I determined to own many Bostons in my lifetime. The tears welled up, again.

Then we ran some errands and when I heard a program on NPR that mentioned Israel in passing, I got all weepy again.

We took a break and watched the season premiere of Six Feet Under. Snuggling with Sam and the bad dog -- Isaac and I gently tooting -- on the couch, I'm-so-happy-with-my-life tears, again.

Then headed to the Amanda and Andrew's warehouse to have wedding rehearsal. Tears.

Finally at 8:30 went for rehearsal dinner of Mexican and margaritas.After sucking down 1/2 of my blended 'rita, I started getting very loud and crass. Amanda's mother, no stranger to crassness herself, was a bit overwhelmed, I think.

To bed at 1. Today, I am a zombie with a hang over and a swollen belly. Cheers.