There was camping and then work and then wedding and then illness and more work and more illness and somewhere in there I had to find the time to try to watch DVDs and play computer games and sleep and not think about the reality of my life. Don't let anyone fool you -- denial is a full-time occupation.
But I'm back now.
I think.
More or less.
I'm feeling very resentful about having to return to "REAL LIFE" tomorrow after this marvelous 4-day weekend. If I knew whose fault this "REAL LIFE" nonsense was, I'd shake my finger at them.
Allow me to acquaint you with the star of this weekend -- a delicious and magical concoction called a Buzzed Aldrin (thanks, SkepChicks!). To make the obvious joke, it doesn't take many of these before you are totally orbiting the planet.
Or, in our case, totally standing on my coffee table, reading poetry aloud. Loudly aloud. I chose Coleridge's "Rime of the Ancient Mariner"; Autumn chose random selections from Jim Morrison's Wilderness. There was also a drunken Twitter to the Skepchicks, taking pictures of Gussie in a Santa hat & beard*, intense literary discussion and even some "Dead Like Me" episode watching. Our evening menu consisted of taquitos, popcorn shrimp, mozzarella sticks and Bundinos.
Seriously, one of the BEST. SATURDAY. NIGHTS. EVER.
*I do not make the cat wear costumes because they are cute and I think the cat likes it. I use it as a form of corporal punishment. Gussie had to wear the santa hat & beard as punishment for knocking a cabinet full of stuff onto the bed at a ridiculous hour on Saturday morning. Cabinet broke in two, scared the bejeepers out of all of us, AND made a huge fucking mess I had to clean up. Pictures of Gussie enduring his torture will be posted.
