My Weekend

I'm so fucking proud of myself for being so goddamned smart.

It's just past 10:30 am, it's already 84 humid fucking degrees out and I already have my yard work done for the weekend!

Yay. Me.

With temps projected to be in the mid 90's today, I was really dreading mowing the lawn. I'm a horrible procrastinator, so it is pretty uncharacteristic of me to just get my ass out there and get it done. But I did it, so I will repeat

Yay. Me.

Now I can spend the rest of my weekend comfortably sheltered in air conditioned bliss. You see, I really don't like summer very much. I hate, HATE anything above 90 degrees. Not all that crazy about anything over 80 degrees. Nothing makes me crankier than being hot and sweaty. If I enjoyed being hot and sweaty I would have gone into a line of work a bit more demanding than being a Systems Analyst. Dilbert don't sweat.

My daughter, young Galadriel Tanqueray Onassis, is off with her friends doing whatever 13 year old girls do on summer vacation. We got to hang out together and spend some quality time earlier in the week, so I won't be entertaining her this weekend.

My girlfriend is off with her family on their annual canoe trip.

Yes, there is a very good reason why I'm not with them. Thanks for asking.

You see, last year her family didn't schedule a canoe trip, but we had an opportunity to go canoeing with a group of friends. I knew the gf really wanted to go, so I ponied up the $100 deposit. Knowing that particular group of friends, I figured it would be a hell of a party.

However, as the date grew closer, and we talked more and more about the trip, certain issues were sidestepped, some things were left unsaid. My gf is pretty fucking smart and perceptive. Eventually she uncovered my dirty little secret.

I really don't enjoy canoeing.

You see, I went on a canoe trip. Once. I was much younger, and it was just a bunch of us guys and a lot of beer. I'm a big guy. 6'2" and over 200lb is about all you need to know. I discovered that sitting cross-legged in a canoe with my knees hanging over the edge of the boat for 8 hours is pretty fucking excruciating. By the end of the day, I could barely walk. Okay, the beer probably had a little to do with that, but mostly I was just painfully fucking sore and stiff. And after this long, grueling day of canoeing, what creature comforts awaited me? Absolutely none. I hot fucking tent, with a hot fucking sleeping bag, in a hot fucking shade less campground with the nearest toilet a half a mile away.

Did I mention how much I hate being hot and sweaty?

Instead of canoeing and camping, here is what I would be down with: A day on a pontoon boat, with a canopy for shade, a gas grill, a cooler packed with alcohol and steaks and a kickass sound system. Spend the day tooling around on a lake ogling mostly nekkid soccer moms and taking the occasional dip in the water just to cool off. At the end of the day, its back to the air conditioned motel with the attached restaurant and bar for $1.00 drinks and an all you can eat buffet, followed by frenzied and passionate monkey sex. Now THAT would be a good fucking time.

So, last year about this time, I'm "outed" as a whiny bitch and the gf dug in her heels, set her chin and said "Well, then we're not going." From the utterance of that one simple sentence, several things ensued. One was, we didn't go. No amount of backpedaling or reassurances from me changed a thing. We. Weren't. Going. Second, no matter how much I tried to talk her into it, she adamantly refused to go without me. I'd already paid the deposit and I offered to pay for everything else. Nope. Absolutely not. So we didn't go, we lost the deposit, I completely fucked up a trip that she was really looking forward to and not only am I no longer included in any discussions about canoe trips, I'm not even allowed to say "canoe trip". I can say the word "canoe", and I can use the word "trip". But I am not allowed to string those two words together in a sentence or in any other manner that would imply a group of people canoeing together.

That is why the girlfriend is off with her family somewhere around Noel, MO battling mosquitos, slugs, ticks, other canoers, each other and the elements while I am sitting in my sinfully air conditioned home (I'm actually a bit chilly right now), sharing my weekend with you.

What's next for me? How am I going to spend the rest of my weekend? Well, next up is a shit, shower and a shave. Then maybe a light lunch of some sort. This afternoon I think I might head up to the movie house and catch "Live Free or Die Hard". When it's this hot outside, there's nothing like sitting in a cool, dark theatre watching people kill each other and blow shit up in the most unlikely, implausible and imaginative ways that Hollywood can devise. For supper, there is a Black Angus T-Bone in the freezer that will meet it's demise as I enjoy some Hi-Def goodness on the flat screen. Tomorrow will be filled with laundry, household cleaning and straightening, shaving, ironing and generally getting ready for the work week.

Believe it or not, that really is my definition of a pretty good fucking weekend.