Well, it's been one of those weekends. Too much spending, too little downtime, definitely too little time spent together. Still, good times meeting new people. New, super-smart people. It's kind of intimidating. Especially when the Smartest Man in South Africa is bludgeoned into revealing his IQ (185. Holy shit.) and you're ... flattened. Well, thank goodness no one asked mine. Although apparently I'm pretty smart, but still. You'd never know it to read this blog!
It was Iaculus' birthday on Friday, so we went off for a potluck at his place yesterday. I always enjoy being around the geeks, and yesterday was no exception. Although I was kind of annoyed on his behalf that a bunch of "friends" cancelled on him on the very day, after confirming that they'd be there. Ah well, those of us who made it, had a great time. Even when the question of IQs came up.
Iaculus' babiest brother has grown, boy howdy. What a dashing young man, and he's inherited the most beautiful eyes of the three boys - even more beautiful than Iaculus himself. I'd venture to say they're as gorgeous as my own brother's, and his take a lot of beating. Also, the young man in question has his head screwed on right, unlike his older siblings; he's not keen on being in a relationship just for the sake of it. I'm impressed, for a 17-year-old. I guess he's just taken a gander at his brothers and decided that being a playa, or having the wrong standards, are not for him. Good choice. WHY did I not take advantage and hug him hello and goodbye? Because he's 20 years younger than I am and I just couldn't bring myself to do so. Even though he's a gorgeous, strapping young man. And a MENSA member. It's the damn IQ issue again! What a waste, and there he was, the well-mannered youngster, my own boyfriend (as well as his brother) urging me to "feel his six-pack". Maybe that's it - not wanting to be told what to do? Who knows? I'm just difficult at the moment. But I couldn't be part of embarrassing the boy!
The Machete War Party plan is gaining momentum, although I'm still in two minds about whether I'll join. I just can't get around what might have to happen to the moochies. Better than leaving them to their own devices, I suppose, but practicality be damned, emotion rules the day and I'm not likely to change my way of thinking without damn good reason.
Also, I've been in a foul mood for the past few days, and copious amounts of Synap Forte, vodka and chocolate have done naught to help. Snap, snap, SNAP, that's me. I growled irritably at MadCat that I guess I'd better start my damn adoption process RIGHT THE FUCK NOW because there's no point waiting until I'm 40, since it'll take a couple of years anyway, almost daring him to object. Poor guy was rather startled. Well, them's the breaks; just beacuse we will not be procreating due to various mental challenges that should not be passed on to future generations, does not mean I intend remaining childless for the rest of my existence. Still, I suppose I could have phrased it more ... kindly.
On the other hand, maybe next week I'll be in a better, more forgiving mood. We'll see.
Word of the day for me: obstreperous. And let's not forget recalcitrant. Also, bitchy.
Time for more martini, methinks.