and so it is

Well, here we are at Monday after a quiet weekend (by choice). I spent most of the weekend not doing things I had sort of thought I might do, but secretly knew I wouldn't. For example: I was invited to a party on Saturday that was billed in such a way as to sound exceedingly sporty (bring a racquet, yada yada yada). I basically knew I wasn't going to attend (bring an ashtray!), but I humored myself otherwise. The boy and I finally saw The Simpsons (not as funny as I wanted it to be), had a fancy dinner ("The elk is divine," the boy said, which is when it struck me that my punkrock Pittsburgh guy has been Santafeized, possibly beyond repair). I also daydreamed about the beach. The boy finally bought a bathing suit, and didn't fight me when I went into his closet and picked out the clothes he should bring on the trip. I am not normally quite so controlling (ha. hahahaha!). But I have an unbroken track record of air travel without security hassles, and most of the boy's t-shirts have extremely long anarcist statements on them. I mean, apparently the government can tell us how to dress now, so you can't be too careful. Also, the boy is so messy that I can only imagine security going through his luggage and not letting us board because all of his clothes are wadded into little dirty balls. At any rate, I'm obviously being kind of pyscho, but he said I could pack for him if I wanted. Because I have this great system that involves not just a baggie for liquids, but different sized baggies for everything! (I may be the only person around who is consciously trying to catch OCD).
Anyway, our trip is still a week and a half away, but that's like 10 minutes in real time, with a shitload of things to do between now and then (too many actually).
Guess I'll go do some of them.