Had a pretty good weekend. I stayed up WAY too late on Friday night watching movies and putzing. By the time Saturday rolled around it was 10am and I was just getting out of bed. Decadence, I tell you.I had a list of two things I was looking for in my shopping plans - a new kitchen faucet and tying twine. I could have gotten those at the closest hardware store. Needless to say, I never made it to the hardware store. I started at Price Club and bought new clothes and some random food stuff. Then I realized it was 95 degrees outside, so I bought a cooler and got some ice so I could keep shopping. This shopping trip would stop for nothing. It seemed like every store I entered I then left spending around $100. Bed, Bath and Beyond beget me new sheets and a nice poster. Planet Music produced Talking Heads, the Gourds, Mighty Mighty Bosstones and Tom Jones. I found a used copy of Red Hot and Blue for only $4 but already own it. I considered buying it and then giving it to someone who I thought deserved it, since it's such an excellent disc, but doubted my follow through on this project. So I just left it in a very prominent place so someone would spot it and take it home. I thought about giving it to the guy who decided to follow me around after I told him that the Dead Milkmen cd he discovered was a good choice, but didn't think he needed any more encouragement. “Apparently he seemed to think that because I complimented his choice in music that meant that I thought he was groovy.” “No, you talked to him so hoped you wanted to have sex with him.” “Is it really like that? Is it really all about sex? I was just being friendly.” “There's a Chris Rock monologue you should hear about why guys do nice things.” Barnes and Nobles netted some German and Latin textbooks as part of the Puddin' Language Exchange Program. I'm teaching him Latin and he's teaching me German. I'm pretty pleased with both of our progress so far and hope that we'll soon be international citizens. Probably the most satisfying part of the weekend, though, was when I decided to take down the apple tree in my front yard. It has started dumping apples all over my driveway and sidewalk. They're pretty nasty and not very tasty apples in the first place. So I've been anxious to take it apart. I had already cut off all the limbs I could reach from the ground or from standing on the Saturn's roof. But then I got the bright idea to climb the tree as I cut off limbs, being careful to not cut off my own exit from the tree or the limb I was standing on at the time. In about two hours I managed to cut everything off the tree that might bear fruit. It was a very satisfying feeling. Rich has been suggesting I join a gym so I could work out and relieve some stress. But tearing this tree apart literally limb from limb did more for me than any Stairmaster could. I had a vendetta against this tree. And while my arms have a good sore feeling to them today, I feel even better knowing I've bagged and bundled every last damn apple from my yard for the last time. Much like Scarlett O'hara at sunset, I declared with God as my witness I would never see another apple on my lawn again.