It's hard for me to gear up to write an entry these days. Part of it is that I've got lots of little bits floating around in my brain that I want to tell you all about but haven't yet figured out a way to link them up in to a cohesive entry. Part of it is that I really still need to document Internet Dork Camp, Part II, but I STILL haven't uploaded my photographs. La-zee, I know. You can check out emiloo's recap, however. She was there too, documenting our squalor.

This was taken before I got drunk. No, really.

Mostly things are okay and I'm very much looking forward to having next week off with Kenny - a week in which we are going to get shit done. We have so many plans, big plans! Like, I will be stripping the coffee table and refinishing it. I KNOW. Big, right? Except, okay, I'll only be stripping the top of it because we have a very laissez�faire attitude towards coaster-usage and our vintage thrift store coffee table looks...like a thrift store coffee table. It goes really well with our other trash-picked furnishings. I like to call our interior style "Eclectic Educated Poor." That has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

I'm always amazed when people we know have, like, real furniture. Rooms full of it! All matching! That shit is expensive, y'all, how do you afford it? We have cats so nice upholstered/leather pieces are pretty much pointless anyway, but I'd still like to have, you know, dining room chairs. And some book shelves. And a nice comfy leather chair for the living room. I'd have to tape the cat�s paws up for that one - duct tape all around! (I'm kidding, PETA.)

So that's the plan for next week - house projects, Tour de France watching (do not even GET ME STARTED on the Tour this year), sloth, mountain biking, peach pie. Not necessarily in that order.

One thing I'd really like to do is get the Nova sold. I had four people flake on me so far. FOUR! Like, if you tell me you're interested, I believe you. I fall for it every single time. I had a guy call the other night about coming to look at it and he questioned me suspiciously:

him: does it really run?
me: yes, it really runs.
him: well, why are you selling it then?
me: are you kidding me? Okay really, it's because I can no longer handle its jelly. But seriously, are you kidding?

So, loser #4 faked me out that he was going to come see it last night and I went home after work to wait for him and make sure the car would still start after sitting for a month. Answer: not so much. Kenny popped the hood to give it a jump and goddamn if a squirrel hadn't built a nest in it. There were leaves and crap tightly packed in next to the air filter, all snug and nesty. Fucking squirrels, man. I actually like squirrels but this is the kind of thing that only happens to us.

In other news:

Driving to work this morning I saw a big professionally printed banner outside a church on Cherokee Rd that reads: Wilderness Shcool! Along with details about this fabulous summer program. I hope it's not taught by the same person who proof-read the banner. I mean, dang, how do you misspell school?

Hey, I have a new Crazy story! My new gym is no longer a crazy-free haven. She found me, it just took a little longer than I expected. Last Saturday morning I went to BodyPump and it was a really full class. I got there early to get a good spot but even after the class started people were still trickling in. The Crazy was an older woman who had a nervous look about her. She got a bar with small weight plates and stood in the space behind me. The rest of the equipment was taken so there was no handy step platform to give us a buffer. I really like a buffer.

It was clear once she started that she'd never done this before, ever. How do you even do squats with your heels lifted? It shouldn't even be physically possible but she did it. Honestly, I don't mind newbies at all, but if you're new, COME EARLY. ASK QUESTIONS. Sheesh. We switched to a new move, (the Gold's-gentrified clean & press) which is fairly complicated and involves swinging the bar up and over your head.

The music started and looking in the mirror I realized I had a problem. The Crazy lady was standing right behind me - literally. I could feel her breathing people. As we went through the move I got more and more freaked out by her proximity but I am not good at confrontation and I really think she might have been a little insane. Who stands six inches behind a complete stranger while swinging a barbell around?

We made it through that portion without injury but I was pretty annoyed. There was a good ten feet of space behind her. Why was she humping my aura? Creep. We moved on to triceps at which point she helped herself to one of my weight plates. Seriously, I almost hurt her but judging from her bad form she's well on her way to doing that all on her own.

A kinder person than me would probably have tried to befriend her and correct her form but these classes are very fast paced and do not give you any real chance to get cozy with your neighbors. Plus, some people just want to mess themselves up and don't welcome unsolicited advice. Plus, some people are crazy freaks with no sense of personal space and I cannot be responsible for their big bag of bullshit.

Tomorrow: Camp stories! I promise!

You don't even care anymore, do you.

9 chatty monkeys