It's so hot. Whine, whine, whine.

Sorry. But it is. And maybe you'd think after a lifetime spent in Oklahoma I'd be used to the summers, but I'm not. It's "hot as the hell." (As Hot Med's sister amusingly says.) Gah.

So, what's been going on around here? Oh, many things and nothing, I guess. I've started many blog posts in my head, but none of them ever made it to the page. But I guess you knew that.

Hot Med and I are still dating, for better or worse. I worry sometimes that the thing I like most about the relationship may end up being the thing that kills it: it's relatively uncomplicated. We walk, we swim, we eat...pretty simple stuff. It's essentially the reverse of my relationship with New Guy, which was sometimes overly complicated. I suppose that's part of the appeal of Hot Med. But I worry that, sooner or later, one or the other of us will get bored. Okay...I worry that I, sooner or later, will get bored. We can't even break things up by watching TV, really...he will only watch action movies. I, on the other hand, would rather gouge my eyes out than watch a Jean-Claude Van Damme or Steven Segal movie again. Jackie Chan doesn't do it for me, either. I get why HE likes them--they're easy to follow, no need to understand the dialogue. Heck...is there any actual dialogue in your typical Sylvester Stallone movie? But they're not my cup of tea. I had hoped that as his English improved, he might be willing to expand his viewing habits...but so far, no such luck.

In the meantime, though...on we roll. Dating someone from another culture is always interesting, in and of itself. I've learned a few things. For one thing, I've learned that "the stink-eye" is truly cross-cultural. I throw a mean stink-eye, and he's never once failed to get the point. Heh. Then last night I did something in front of him that was apparently a horrible atrocity of an act, and which very nearly caused him to walk right out of my house.

So, what did I do that was so appalling? I kissed my dog on the nose. You'd have thought I had just beheaded a baby, or something, so strong was his reaction. For cryin' out loud--it's not like I slipped him the tongue! I just kissed the sweetest, bestest doggy in the world on his cute big ol' snout. He couldn't believe I kissed a "dirty, nasty" dog nose with the same mouth I use to kiss him. I told him to get over it and he sat on the couch in angry silence for an hour while I watched "So You Think You Can Dance," 'til I finally asked him if he just wanted to go home. He did...until he realized I wasn't actually offering him a ride, and then he decided he wasn't so repulsed that he was willing to walk the 7 miles home in the heat. Then we had a little talk about how dog mouths are actually cleaner than human mouths, and since Pudge lives inside and isn't allowed access to the cat boxes, and doesn't have contact with any other dogs (whose butts he might be tempted to sniff), HIS mouth is particularly clean, and finally he decided it wasn't such a big deal, after all. Interestingly, though...he said he wouldn't mind if I kissed the cats, and their mouths are much dirtier, given their penchant for licking themselves clean constantly.

So...that was interesting.

What else?

Well, this weekend is the weekend that I'm journeying to my hometown for a little slumber party with some of my college theatre buddies. I can't wait. And no, I'm not taking Hot Med. (Though I did take him to lunch with my cat lady friends a couple of weeks ago, so it's not like I'm generally averse to him meeting my friends.) He has to work, so it's a moot point, really...but I wouldn't take him, anyway. Why? Well, I haven't seen some of these people in 20 years, so there's going to be a lot of catching up, and a lot of really old inside jokes that I won't want to be trying to translate/explain. I just want to enjoy myself, and not be worried about someone feeling left out. Also, he's not always particularly subtle...and sometimes he just plain lacks a filter. I'm sure part of this is due to the ESL thing, and maybe part is cultural, and part just...Hot Med, but if he wants to know something, he'll ask. And if that's a woman's age, or the like, well...he doesn't mean to offend, but he might (although most people seem to find it charming). He's getting better, but this is going to be a particularly...diverse group of people, and though none of them are particularly easily offended, I still wouldn't want to have to worry about possibly inappropriate questions about sexual orientation/lifestyle choices, you know? I don't want to stress about anything. Plus, there's going to be lots of drinking, and, as we know, he doesn't drink, and doesn't really like it when I do. So...he's not invited. Maybe next time. Heh.

Other than that, what's going on in my life? Not a whole lot. There's an evening of monologues (of which I'll be doing two) coming up in July, which should be fun. My little band of pickin' guys and I are going to do a few songs at the official opening of the new building of the theatre company that had to shelve the show I was rehearsing a while back...that's the end of August. That endeavor could prove more than usually challenging, since our guitar player will be unable to join us (something about having a newborn baby at home--where are his priorities!?--hee), and we'll have to reconfigure the remaining two boys from their usual bass and mandolin roles. They both play everything, really...so it's just a matter of switching things up appropriately, but it won't just be "grab a beer, dust off the songs and play 'em." It's something to do, at any rate.

And that, I think, is enough rambling. I'm going to go hike the Appalachian Trail now. Or cruise up and down the "coastline" of Buenos Aires. Or cheat on my spouse. Take your pick. Cover for me, will ya?