What passes for a post.

I’m in a bit of a basketball coma. March Madness? I *heart* you.

Lil’ Frankfurter is also enjoying March Madness. Except instead of basketball, he is really insane over the yellow squeaky ball, which, mercifully, doesn’t squeak anymore. This sweet, shy little dude has learned the art of growling and then barking until I throw the ball.

We played this for about seven hours today. I’m not kidding. I worked from home today, and he didn’t sleep all day. I should be more, you know, alpha about the whole thing, but his little growl sounds almost like a sigh and is just so damn cute.

Now, finally, the doxies are exhausted from supervising me all day and are konked out on the couch. And I? Am answering messages sent to my profile on an online dating site.

Evidently, I write a funny profile.

Today, a friend and I talked about the difference between not being over a guy and not being over a situation. We agreed that I’m over The Ex-Boyfriend Formerly Known as Mr. Wonderful, but perhaps not over The Relationship With The Ex-Boyfriend Formerly Known as Mr. Wonderful. And that’s ok. And an important distinction. And doesn’t mean that I should sit in seclusion until I’m again a blank slate.

I talked about this with my folks a few days ago. And my sweet daddy told me that yes, yes I totally should do online dating again. So, for the first time pretty much, oh, ever, I did something because my dad told me to.

And so far, it’s pretty fun. And not terribly scary because I can e-mail, you know? It’s not anywhere near as frightening as interacting with a real, live, three-dimensional person. After all, I don’t have to leave the comfort of my natural habitat: the couch.

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