This weekend was lovely. I was supposed to be laboring, and did actually catch up on my freelance stuff, but not as much as I had hoped. My To Do list is always an over-achiever. I probably could have pushed and made some serious headway on projects around the house, but this weekend was also awash with social engagements and prolonged soaks in the pool. A little too prolonged, it seems, as I reassured Pie that we probably wouldn’t need sunscreen and that I never burn in September. Which is true, I never do, but usually I have built up a base of tan by then, and surprisingly, one doesn’t get tan sitting in front of their computer monitor all summer. Duh. I did have a double dose of sunscreen on my face, and still managed to get raccooned.
We went to Scotty Boom Boom’s birthday extravaganza and as the evening wore on, we both started squiggling in our folding chairs. The burning. The burning! I was having fantasies of rolling up my sleeves and just sitting there with Rudolph shoulders, oblivious to the horror that my meaty Grandma upper arms would inflict upon the innocent geeklings in the garage. Finally, we gave in and went to my house, where we decimated my mostly-empty tube of 99.5% aloe vera and cursed our painful bra straps. We went to the grocery store closest to my house for more, but they didn’t have the good stuff, so we went to another one where I had sworn I had seen my very brand last time (I originally got it at Whole Foods for twice as much as they carry it locally because I am dumb). We found it, chugged water, and then decided to take Mopie out to experience the Bad Bar one week earlier than intended.
And the Bad Bar was bad, as it usually is, although it was pretty dead and without any of our favorite bartenders (except the one tatted girl who congratulates me because I switch to water after my third drink) or comp drinks. I hope at least some of our favorites are there this Friday when we do the Bad Bar right with Penny and Carissa and the crew. And so I have done my duty to introduce Pie to the area. I apologize right now to both her sunburn and her liver.
One alarming moment: a few minutes after arriving at the bar, someone I’ve never met tapped me on the shoulder (ouch) and said ‘I’m a big fan of your blog.’
At first, I thought he was saying he was a fan of my BRA, because I had changed into a v-necked t-shirt that has a tendency to slip off my shoulders, exposing a bra strap. Then I realized that he meant this website.
Whoa.
After getting over the shock of having a stranger come up unexpectedly like that, I made him swear he wouldn’t tell anyone about the page. Which is worth as much as his word, I suppose. And while it would be easy to be pissed off at the person who told him (granted, I’m not exactly happy) I know that others have shared the URL (and I still do not understand why they are compelled to do so after explicitly promising to keep it to themselves) and I just haven’t found out about it yet. Sigh.
Please read this. Again.
