Three to be you and me...

So, let's see...

I am officially on vacation until Monday morning, 8AM.  I am so excited.

Tomorrow morning, there's an Aqua Circuit class at the Y at 7AM with Julie.  She's the hardest freaking water instructor, and I am going to be there. BOOM!  Unless I accidentally sleep in, but let's face it - I wake up of my own accord every morning by 6:30, so I think we're good.

I definitely want to hit up the Farmers Market again.  If I could find another quart of blackberries, I'd snap them up in a second.  Although, I let the peaches go bad, and I can't seem to finish off the cantaloupe, so maybe I need to Ix-nay the Ackberries-Blay.  I don't know.  We'll see.  If the Amish folks are there, I'll buy flowers and take them to the party I'm going to tomorrow night.

Yep, big to-do down in Franklin - our friends are hosting and you can see the fireworks from their deck.  I'm taking potato salad.  Because I can.  And because in checking with other friends that are going, desserts appear to be under control.

I'd like to get in a matinee of Moonrise Kingdom.  Because I love Wes Anderson.  And because it's playing at our local arthouse cinema - The Belcourt - and they are awesome and deserve our patronage.

I have to pack for Atlanta.  And while I'm at it, Chicago.  No stress.  Actually tons of stress.
The Atlanta trip is causing me tsuris - the weather is going to make the annual picnic in the mountains hot, hot, hot.  And my parents are concerned about the heat and their pugs.  I get it, but that's the price you pay for having heat intolerant flat-faced trailer trash dogs.

Maggie, tolerating the heat.  Just barely.

I kid.  I call them that because they're brachycephalic - no real snouts.  Makes them likely to overheat and it's harder for them to breathe.  See also bullies and Bostons.

Anyway, Lola's not especially heat resistant.  She's thirteen though.  I think we'll be fine, and if not, we'll go back to my parents' house.

Lola.  Hot, and can't be bothered.

Aside from the annual meeting and the picnic up at the cabin, my agenda, in re: the mountains is mostly my own.  I want to be up to my neck in the coldest waterfall I can find.  And that's not a hard get.  I want to take photos.  I want to take naps.  Maybe even drink a beer.

I want to measure for a television, because I'm going to buy one for Dad.  Late father's day present.  That's how I roll, bitches.  Don't freak - it's not like we're getting him a 60" mammajamma.  We think it won't be any bigger than 32" and should run well under $300.  Which I can do, and will.

Now, on Sunday, I head home and start worrying about the Chicago trip, and that's the real concern.  It has the potential to be a Charlie Foxtrot.  Yep, it could go Tango Uniform in a heartbeat.

Rent this movie (The Last Detail) immediately, if not sooner.

Bravo Yankee, Bravo Yankee.

But you know, it's all good.  Really and truly.

I'm on vacation!