So, we had a big weekend.

Phase I was a Friday gathering at sister-in-law's. More grilled food than should be legal, a mean egg salad I whipped up, a mean fruit salad Mrs. NFB whipped up, chips, still more grilled food, some weird cheesecake/brownie hybrid dessert, and a cookie brownie dessert to die for. I ate until I felt like I was going to throw up.

By the next morning I had lost approximately three and a half pounds.

Oh, did I forget to mention that most of the afternoon was spent running around like a madman, chasing and/or being chased by Mrs. NFB and/or the niece with squirt guns at the ready?

Phase II - Friday night. Pup1 doesn't like fireworks. She never much cared for them, or thunder, or any loud boomy noises. However, the neighbor dog was shot during Pup1's second year and they spent a lot of time around each other. Ever since then, boomy sounds mean Pup1 goes into stealth pace. Pacing all low to the ground. Which is fine while we're all up and she can pace from the living room to the bathroom, tear up the bathmat a bit (we keep an old one around for just such reasons), pace some more. Not so fine when we try to go to bed. Paces around the bed, then knocks over the lamps on the night stands, then paces some more, then knocks our glasses off the night stand, then paces some more.

We finally got her through it by cranking up the TV to the point where we couldn't hear much going on outside. She fell asleep, and, eventually, so did we.

Phase III - Party at our house. Mrs. NFB had had so much fun with the squirt gun chase-down at her sister's house that she went shopping in the morning and picked up two more rifle style supersoakers and two pistol type air-pressure based supersoakers to compliment the one heavy-duty blow-your-ass-off supersoaker we use to get the cats in when they aren't cooperating. So, she had her homemade spaghetti sauce, which is the best batch she's ever made. Slow-cooked for two fucking days, it was fiery hot, yet tasty as could be. Big batch of cheesy bread with it. And yum.

Afterwards, we broke out the supersoakers and the war started. Funny thing though. sister-in-law's husband brought the rain, but the niece acted like she didn't want to get wet. Oh, she wanted to spray everybody else down, but she'd always preface it with, "I'm going to spray you, but you can't spray me back."

We broke that cycle by telling her aunt NFB bought her new clothes to wear if she got wet. Then she was all kamikaze about it and ready to get soaked. So, we soaked her.

Lots of running. Lots and LOTS of running. LOTS OF RUNNING.

Mrs. NFB and her sister got into it and it turned into the water equivalent of Rambo vs. Rambo. Point blank, both of them sporting double rifles face-to-face and shooting until they ran out of ammo. Which is much better than the fight I feared would break out between them.

Mr. sister-in-law got the ball rolling by grabbing one of the high-powereds and spraying his wife repeatedly as she tried to smoke a ciggie until she finally lost it, grabbed two guns, and started shooting everybody within range.

Essentially, it turned into family showdown.

The neighbors watched incredulously as one little girl and seven adults chased each other around with water guns and destroyed each other.

At one point, Mrs. NFB and niece headed into the house to get something. Niece came back, Mrs. NFB didn't. I asked what happened and niece said, matter of factly, "I shot her. Now she's dead."

Alrighty then. That's the way you promote healthy young minds.

Phase IV Pup1 had just as many problems Saturday night as Friday night because our neighbors are idiots and kept shooting off fireworks all night. We eventually gave up and watched AbFab into the wee hours until we no longer heard boomedy boom in the background. Pup slept through everything then, we did not. Oh well.

By Sunday morning, I'd lost a total of eight pounds since Friday morning. I just need to schedule a few water gun fights with the niece a week to keep losing.

BTW, the dogs REALLY liked the water gun fights. A lot. Kept pulling secret service style "I'll sacrifice myself for you" moves the entire day. We would have gotten out the video camera, but we've found electronics and water don't mix well.

BREAK

So, I mention to Mrs. NFB clock's idea of the neon sign hanging outside my door that says "Nightclub for one." She says, and I quote, "I kind of like that idea."

Well, fuck me. She thinks reverse psychology will work? Oh no, all that means is we gotta up the ante. Flashing neon. Pink, blue, and green. Though that might send the fish into some sort of fit.

I painted coat one on 1/3 or so of the room finally. It looks god-like. Though still patchy, so it'll definitely need another coat. But it's gonna be DARK. Mrs. NFB walks in and looks at the part that I've painted and says, "wow, you can't even tell the light is on in that part of the room."

"I know, isn't it awesome."

She looks around for a bit and then says, "you know what? It kind of is. I like this dark thing you've got going on in here."

Not. Obnoxious. Enough.

Gotta go pick up more paint today so I can hit the second coat tonight and get started on the next section. Gonna be wicked when it's finished. Though I'm still trying to figure out my patterns for the darker overlays.

I'm beginning to think stencils with spray-paint in flat black instead of the black metal thing. Metal flake tends to just go everywhere when you spray it. Flat colors lay down good. I can even do nasty overspray as I do stencils and make it look like bad graffiti. Thinking on that.

Either way, progress for now is good. The rock begins to come together for me.

Probably enough for one day. Outz.