Weekend Plans

Every weekend, I try my absolute hardest to pretty much do nothing, and that is probably the hardest thing to achieve. Duncan is always on my case to "get out and do stuff and go outside". What? Like watching Golden Girls and talking to my cats like they're people isn't doing anything? And the balcony door is open to let the outside "in".Yesterday I blow-dried my hair instead of falling asleep with a towel around my head. That's as ambitious as I get. He should know me by now.

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He went as far as buying me a wet suit a few weeks ago so I would start going kayaking with him. I think the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life is put that thing on in a warm store change room with the salesperson right outside talking to me. I was jumping and swearing and sweating and cursing my obviously arthritic fingers (I've self-diagnosed that arthritis). You'd think man hands like mine would come with some sort of enormous finger strength, but mine didn't. (Thanks Dad, for your useless gorilla hands)

So I'm going to try to relax this weekend, probably on the beach with some magazines that are half a year old, and also attend a series of bbqs where I have to defend portobello mushrooms as a superior bbq item. (I love portobello mushrooms on the bbq, I don't know what they're talking about). I know some people are able to live these fabulous lives AND document it with photos and words and everything, and the truth is they're just superior people, and I accept that. I can't drink 12 beers AND remember to remove a lens cap when I take photos. But they can. AND they even upload them in a timely fashion. Who are they? Superman? Or at the very least Aquaman? Respect...

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(P.S. Meredith, if you're out there, I will get your birthday photos to you sometime before your next birthday. Hey, maybe that'll be a birthday present! Which I still haven't gotten you yet either. Or from the birthday before. I'm not done painting those nesting dolls. I still have a Pilsener can and a potato to do)