Some of you have remarked that your lives are "boring" (your words, not mine) and that you enjoy living vicariously through me, so I thought you should know that you had a pretty good weekend:
Saturday 7am - Coffee and morning paper on the terrace. A bit chilly. Notice that the garden is pretty much dead and it's probably a good day for the big fall cleanup. But you're not really in the mood for that, so you do nothing about it.
Saturday 8am - Check out the Belgian Grand Prix F1 qualifying sessions. Kimi takes the pole!
Daydream about taking Kimi's pole.
Saturday 3pm - Country karaoke with Sweet Daddy Siki. You don't sing because you don't know any lyrics to country songs. When someone tells you that's no excuse, since the lyrics are on a TV screen in front of you, you quickly diffuse the situation by confessing that you can't read. They don't believe you, so you insist that you cannot see. And you also have a cold and you're losing your voice. And your religion strictly prohibits the singing of country music.
Saturday 8pm - the karaoke party moves down the street 2 blocks and merges with a lesbian BBQ. It's Jamie's birthday! Ryan bakes a homemade birthday cake from scratch, decorated with a lucha mask because Jamie loves the Wrasslin', and you silently ponder what it would be like to be that talented. Eat some cake. Eat another piece of cake for Pistols, because he would've wanted it that way.
Saturday 9:15pm -Feel slightly disappointed that it's too cold outside for the usual tit parade. Settle for staring at tattoos of boobs instead.
Saturday 11pm - You discover a new technique for poaching fish!
Seafood lovers rejoice!
Sunday 7:30am - Belgian Grand Prix F1 race. Quite exciting, especially given the FIA's decision last Thursday to strip the McLaren team of their 2007 constructor points as a result of the espionage scandal. Kimi wins! Massa comes in second, giving Ferrari a 1-2 finish and closing the points gap in the Driver Championship. You feel an odd craving for champagne...
Sunday 11am - brunch with Jamie and Jules to continue the birthday fun. You are served by the Most Beautiful Waiter You've Ever Seen. He's wicked gay but knows how to work a drooling straight girl for a decent tip. You drink one too many champagne and OJ's, leading you to decide it will be more fun to go back to Jamie's for more cocktails than that other thing you planned to do today: clean your apartment.
Sunday 3pm - Realize your friends' dog is more fashionable than you, and feel a bit sorry for yourself. Take notes from the dog on what's hot for fall.
Sunday 4pm - go home and take a short nap to sleep off the mild brunch buzz.
Sunday 5pm - housework time. Mentally write "help wanted" ad for attractive male domestic assistant, but get stuck on the word you would use for a male version of "maid": Butler? (too formal) Houseboy? (too gay) Manservant? (sounds like that douchebag who follows P. Diddy around)
Sunday 8pm - friends drop in to watch the Emmys and help you make fun of celebrities and other showbiz folks that you don't really recognize because you don't watch their crappy shows. Ryan Seacrest totally irritates you. You vow (again) to never watch awards shows. Ever! You really mean it this time!