So Sue Me

Well those resolutions didn't go very well.

I did manage to Swiffer(TM) the living room, and got through half of the front section of the New York Times, but didn't even have a chance to sort through any tawdriness, when our friends RJ and Lance called and then Lance wanted to go sit outside on the Christopher Street piers, and I'm never one to turn down an opportunity for that Bearfest - - still muggier than I'd hoped it would be out there today, but Lance did make me feel better by asserting that most of the really muscley guys were Steroid-enhanced - - and then by the time I got home it was 4:30, and then I opened up an email from one of our caterers quoting our reception at $18K and our casual Friday night BBQ at $5K, so of course M. and I had to drop everything and ruminate about it for two hours and knock off the figs stuffed with goat cheese and the nicoise salad and come up with an Excel spreadsheet for beer, wine and liquor, and then it was time to run downtown to RJ and Lance's for Thai food, and when we got home we had to watch the DVR of the series finale of Six Feet Under (still crying), and now I'm anxious about the wedding budget and sad about the Fisher family and tired from all the sun and the Brooklyn lager, and the FUCKING NOVELLETTE IS JUST GOING TO HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL NEXT WEEKEND.

Unless we go to Fire Island.