Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

I'm the man who loves you

Crockett is out of town this weekend. My initial reaction when this happens is always 'WHOOHOOO! Now I don't have to brush my hair or pretend that I don't let Maida and Cloey kiss me on the mouth!' However, as per usual, now that he's been gone a good sixteen hours, I miss him.

I'm apparently filling in my Crockett time by messing with my blog theme. For that I apologize - I just learned how to use FTP and it's made me a little power mad. I'll figure it out, but if you're not using an RSS feed, you might want to give me a few hours before you come back.

Anywho (the word anywho always makes me think of Oompa-Loompas - I think it's a weird mental leap from the Whos in How the Grinch Stole Christmas), I'm trying to decide what to do with my single-girl weekend. I of course have a brunch scheduled, because that's what ladies do, but not much else.

The whole single girl project is complicated by the fact that Crockett's fancy schmancy Audi is barely drivable due to brake and suspension issues that I don't even pretend to understand, and he therefore has my car up in Vail. I can't go on some wild road trip, I can't go see my girlfriends that live more than a bike ride away (which is everyone because I hate to ride my bike), and I can't ... um ... hell, I can't even get to the library because HI, books are HEAVY.

I can, however:

  • Get really drunk on red wine and talk as much as I want to myself and the girls while I watch the rest of season five of Lost.
  • Spend all day tomorrow baking with my pomegranate juice like I promised I would a bazillion years ago.
  • Paint my finger and toe nails and wear a funny clay mask.
  • Watch allllll the scary movies I want.

So that's my plan. Girly weekend, here I come.

Wait, there are five more hours of work left? Are you kidding me?

Ok, in five hours, girly weekend, here I come!

Sunday Talky

the joys of blogging