Yum Dinger and I are now officially cohabitating and blissfully living in sin. He moved in a few weeks ago and I must admit that becoming a domestic goddess has been a little tougher than I had hoped it would be. As a mostly single person for the past three years, I have become accustomed to jammin out with my clam out any old time I feel like it. Not being able to walk around the apartment in my birthday suit singing Wanted Dead or Alive has taken some getting used to.

Though this is not the first time in our long history to play house together we are certainly being more adult about it on our second try. (When I say we, I really mean just me.) Surprisingly enough I am learning how to share rather quickly. However the whole principle of “keeping my hands, feet and all other objects to myself” still escapes me. It is safe to say that my reputation of not playing well with others is quickly recovering from a long history of failed attempts. My 1st grade teacher, Mrs. Forton would be prouder than the parent of a fat kid in a cake eating contest at my recent skill development.

Life as an adult has certainly taken me by surprise, but I must admit that where I am now is exactly where I am meant to be.

Yum Dinger and I recently took a long weekend and got the hell out of Texas. I cannot begin to describe just how badly we needed some serious mileage between us and the rejects that we surround ourselves with on a daily basis. We booked a cabin on Lake Hamilton, loaded up the car, and drove to Hot Springs, Arkansas where we learned that inbreeding is still alive and well in the south.

We spent most of our weekend out on the lake in whatever vessel we could get our hands on. We started small, we went with Jet Skis right out of the gate. Though every rental place that surrounded Lake Hamilton advertised that they rented these little death traps we found in fact that they did not. Apparently there is a sand bar issue on that particular lake…..I cannot be sure at this point seeing as how we only dealt with twelve year olds at every turn. We finally found some unsuspecting idiots to loan us their jet skis on Lake Ouachita. We played in the water for hours like two monkeys slinging feces at each other. I could not wipe the smile off of my face if I tried.

The next day we rented a pontoon boat from yet another twelve year old that worked at the boat dock. He was quite possibly borderline retarded. Even on his best day he was in a close race with the likes of Forrest Gump. After Dinger and I had signed away the rights of our first born and given a blood sample to satisfy the written rental agreement, we finally boarded the boat. We spent the next four hours in our own little love bubble. As far as we were concerned were the only two people on the lake. Even though we did not catch a single fish, it was the happiest I have been in years.

On our last day in inbred heaven we arrived at the Arlington Hotel for a much needed massage. After the hotels famous Sunday brunch I made my way down to the spa in quite the chipper mood. I was ready to get this party started. I was introduced to a rather large woman as my masseur. She was at least six foot tall and had seen better days. She was wearing a stained apron and a banana clip in her hair. Though she introduced herself as Melanie when she shook my hand, I decided that the name Larry was much more suited given her stature and complete lack on interest in her appearance. Larry and I became very close during our short time together. I have had my share of massages over the years but I have never had my entire butt rubbed by a complete stranger. This experience was all together new to me and though I felt at least a little violated at first, I quickly warmed up to her sausage like fingers.

Despite the numerous brother cousins that we came in contact with during our trip, we had an absolutely fabulous time. It doesn’t really matter where we go though, Dinger and I could have a first class time at Wal-Mart on a Saturday night. We go together like Tiger Woods and white girls. Whatever our depraved minds are made up of, his and mine are the same.

I have had a certain man in my life for the past nine or so years. We’ll call him, Yum Dinger. We have a complicated love/hate relationship. I love him, he hates me. Well, okay so I guess it's not all that complicated. Anyhow, for better or for worse he has always been there. We are two peas in a pod. We go together like mustaches and child molesters.

Dinger and I usually like to spend our time somewhere between dating and being best friends. It’s a gray area that I would not trade for all of the free alcohol in the world. These days we are trying our hand at dating again and I must admit that it is going exceptionally well. I have been happier than a retard with a balloon. What can I say, the man makes me smile.