So. Many. Things.

First. My dad is under supervision to bring his blood potassium levels down. Good thing the family is so concerned because when I called to ask how he was he said:

 

“I’m old. Old people die.”

 

I just love his charming ways. But for sure he said that with a glass of wine in his hand and a cigar in his mouth.

 

 

Also, I went camping.

 

All in all, things were not as hilariously madcap as you might expect given that my pre-camping post had me in a full nervous breakdown. Luckily, I managed to keep the brain together, except for a brief PMSy incident:

 

 

I am sorry to report that The Rock has had a semi-serious arrow injury to the buttal region.

 

You will also be thrilled to know that I cooked stuff on our enormous camping stove and slept fairly well in our Canvas Condo.

 

Most of our camping gear turned out to be WAY HUGER than anyone else’s, which I suppose can happen when you haven’t camped in years and think the bigger the stuff, the more respect you gain from serious campers.

 

Not so, not so.

 

Also, you should have seen camping chairs. They were like king’s thrones. GIANT kings from the Land of Hugetopia.

 

Live and learn.

 

The place where we stayed offered camping for the non-camper, and every second was filled with either pool time or the zip line or the BMX bike track or the basketball court or the rustic playground or the petting zoo or the paintball field.

 

I’m quite sure there was also a four-star restaurant somewhere on the property.

 

 

By the end of the weekend, I had enough dust in my bellybutton to re-sand the Sahara and was grateful to get home for a long shower. And to poop. The pooping was sublime and ample.

 

 

Aren’t I charming? I get it from my dad.

 

Right after our return home from camping, my sister and her family came for a visit. From North Dakota. (She still moved there even after the intervention.) (Just kidding.) (My mom was born there and it’s lovely country.) (If you’re an eskimo.) (Or a melancholic who is at home amidst long sweeping plains of coldness and sparsity.) (Just kidding again for the most part.)

 

So my sister sprained her ankle a couple of days before she visited. And the totally weird thing is? She was JUST STANDING there when it happened. Just. Standing. There. With 46 glasses of wine in her hand I discovered upon further investigation.

 

And the long and short of it was that she was confined to my house, so her husband lost his mind from all the sitting around took off and went for a drive to Wal-Mart.

For fun.

 

Oh shit. What else happened this past week?

 

Right! A girls’ weekend to the Mission Bay Hyatt!

 

 

Lots of fun was had by all.

 

But especially by me. Because?

 

I so needed some time away.

 

And swing dancers.

 

 

And good friends.

 

 

Especially good friends.

 

(Thanks for all your comments and emails and texts over the last week. I very much appreciate all of you.)