In which FHC returns...

I drove dearest LL and his four overweight suitcases to Reagan National airport earlier today after three days of intensive packing, terrifying judicial battle over the custody of our joint wardrobe, many games of Tennis and some dramatic and tearful adieux. This marked the end of our great vacation as well as more discreetly, the subtle end of what I – and most of my friends - consider my best role so far. Symbolically it was the first time I drove a car alone (besides maybe the time I drove from Dupont to Adam’s Morgan to pick up Drew but LL was giving me advice on the phone). Back home, the emptiness and the silence are only disturbed by my solitude creeping in and conscientiously unpacking after a long absence. The end of August is always a sad time. Suddenly it seems that Olliver is nothing more than a bored cat and crab legs are just awful fakes. I just discovered that I am out of Xanax (my motto is no emotions without medication), I have a bad cold and to make it even sadder, I am intentionally playing the soundtrack of The Hours of my ipod, skipping lunch and weeping over John J.’s departure to some ridiculous destination. The empty closet feels unreal and my lack of purpose just plain fantastic. I feel knocked out. Exciting time for the blog and my most resilient readers indeed: I forecast for the near future not only a lot of overspending on e-bay but also FHC looking awful naked, sad mornings, poor decisions being made, getting advice from unreliable counselors, minimal social activity, a lot of Netflix and clearly some prescription pills. Maybe if we are lucky, there will be a 12 steps program, some questions on tactical online profile management and one night stands which are always great entry material. It will be depressing, raw and uneventful. Anyway I am afraid that FHC’s resurrected blog statistics cannot get worse at this point. Happily for you, viviblurry is back, and against all my vile prophecies, cheerful.

All that to tell you not to count on me to blog about our little trip to France. Just know that a) it was charming, eventful and yet went very well; b) I was constrained to drive a shift and fly economy; c) I finished Pamela; and d) sailing on the Potomac is out …sailing in the Atlantic ocean is in. Gosh…do I hate change...

Comments

[LL]

Oh F . . . the tears may dry up . . .

[Fagat]

Thank G-d you are back. We missed you both very dreadfully. Plus, we were running out of racist jokes...

[Oliver de la Chat]

dear loyal readers of fhc's resurrected blog,

for further notice please note:
1. my name is spelt with ONE l.
2. i am never bored. i may lick myself whenever and wherever i please.
3. i am glad jon left for new york. he never once bothered to change my poop box, not to mention he was allowed to pee all over the place WITHOUT getting punished.
4. and furthermore, i would like to personally thank fhc for having more hair than drew w. it is so very unfulfilling to lick a bald head.

all my love,
Oliver de la C.

[honey child]

Breaking up sucks. Stock up on prescription pills, with or withOUT prescriptions. Stat.