Someone's been having fun lately

Today I won't:

Drink red wine.

Fall asleep on the couch.

Spend money frivolously.

Waste my Sunday on the Internet.

A day without boys

Today was one of those rarities of a day -- one in which I did not go to work due to holiday (Good Friday? I say Great Friday!) and not due to hangover/bitterness/laziness and I had all day to do whatever the *bleep!* I wanted (gosh!).

And no boys were around.

Don't get me wrong, I love the boys who live in my house. Their silly antics (responses expressed in farts, heated conversations about politics and video games, enthusiasm for shit like dinner and new episodes of South Park) keep me amused. But sometimes I need some alone time. And I done had me some.

First, I woke up at 9, made coffee and sat in front of the computer, dreaming of the ways I can spend my glorious day alone. The hours ahead of me were like my blank cavas and I was going to paint giant streaks of rainbow colors, skipping and singing a tra-la-la tune along the way.

To start my day, I went to the pool at 10:30 only to sit there and get chilly because the sun had said "see ya!" and clouds sullied my poolside experience. My new pink bathing suit and I did not appreciate that much. So I went home and ate last night's chili-flavored Ramen noodles and waited for Matt to get home for lunch.

He came home with Taco Bell burritos and we watched People's Court. Then he went back to work and I waited on the second stair step for the rest of the afternoon waiting for him to get back.

I'm lying.

I dropped him off at work so I could have the car and proceed with the rest of my day. In an effort to get nice and brown, I went back to the pool. I took our copy of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Repair" because I heard it's good and dammit, I'm going to make a concerted effort to read the books I own. It's ridiculous that we have so many books (classics, too!) and I've only read about half of them. Twice.

By the way, do not take Dr. Pepper with you to the pool, especially on a hot day. Take water instead. You'll thank me later for this bit of advice.

After about an hour, I came back home, took a shower and went to the kosher grocery store, which was buzzing with Passover celebrators and as I manuevered through the aisles, I thought to myself, "even though this place is packed, it's not as bad as shopping at HEB in Brownsville on a normal day." Seriously, folks, it's downright infuriating shopping in Brownsville. Those of you from Browntown know what I'm talking about.

Anyway, I came home with an aching pocketbook from frivolous purchases -- smelly candles, a new razor because mine is like six years old and embarrassingly grimy, roses of different colors because it's Easter and the place needs a woman's delicate touch sometimes, plus the basics like eggs, biscuits and tiny pieces of ham to make little egg and ham sandwiches for breakfast. As I was cutting the roses to fit my vase, I felt pleased with myself. Like I invoked the cheesetastic Oprah segment of "finding your spirit" and not only did I paint rainbows on the hours of my day, but I brought out my super-duper charged estrogen paint brush and sprinkled the day with roses and smelly candles. To top it off, I put a pump soap dispenser that lets out a foamy pear-scented ball of joy in the powder room. This place now reeks of estrogen. Or pears.

At the end of my glorious day of deconstructionist time, I transgressed into the tight-lipped amused lady figure of the house as the boys were now home. Big C playing his video game and Matt playing navigator to the game and me on the computer. A comment here and there about the roses, smelly candle and foamy soap of joy and my chest inflates with pride because I have made my mark.

This may make the headlines. I'll wait and see.

We didn't go camping afterall. Boo. Instead, Matt and I went for a walk in the park. It was pretty and now we are tired.

Today I bought a new bathing suit. It's pink.

Long, red and stiff

I've been camping three times -- and every time has been an experience in itself -- but I'd have to say I've never been excited about the trips until about an hour before getting to the site. I have a hard time looking forward to things that require any kind of effort and planning, especially if I'm not the one planning it. That's Big C's job.

Next week is my fourth camping trip and for the first time, I'm actually excited about it. What changed, you ask? One little trip to a sporting goods store, that's what.

The purchases that have ignited the outdoorsy spirit in this cynical wine and cheese gal:

- A tent. The past three times I've camped, Matt and I have shared Big C's gi-normous tent. As I see it, the fourth time solidifies us as true campers, thus the necessity to stop being freeloading assholes and get our own damn tent. $30, my friends.

- An air matress. Our old one is broken.

- One very awesome chair with leopard print and a cushioney seat. I'm the only girl going on this trip and I have a feeling no one else will want to be seen enjoying this chair as much as I will.

- A fishing pole! It's red and long and stiff (ooo, baby) and I'm very excited to use it. As long as someone else baits my hook and guts my fish...that is, if I catch any. Doesn't matter -- I've got a red fishing pole. By the way, I've never been fishing before.

I promise not to get drunk and use the axe and I also promise to take pictures. Ciao, darlings!