Having never been especially coordinated, and not one especially tolerant of the heat, my favorite outdoor summer activities have revolved around pools, reading, pools and occasionally, bubble blowing and chalk drawing. Things that wouldn't work up a sweat, basically. And while I may not be overtly skilled in the various ways to play with bubbles, I still purchase them and play with my friends kids whenever I see a bottle. One of life's inexpensive pleasures. Unless you shop at Bergdorf's. COME ON, people! Perfumed designer bubbles at $18 a bottle before taxes? I'd wince as each bubble popped in the air, wasted.
Just seeing
THIS made me wince a little, that's all. I have so many suggestions for the extra $17.50 people with too much money in their wallets are wasting on these bottles. For instance, save up a few bottles' worth and see a psychotherapist. Or, I don't know, donate money.
Sometimes, when I get annoyed that the guy downstairs won't ever bring our shared garbage cans or recycling cans (that he personally fills about 90 percent) out to the curb, I need to reach out for some perspective. Looking at notes I took pictures of in my old apartment building's elevator always does the trick.
On today, the day of my friend D's birthday, I honor her dog, Corky. This jumpy, rodent chasing, skunk killing, snuggly Jack Russell whom you cannot touch a ball in front of unless you are prepared for three hours of fetch or severe barking is the cutest Jack Russell I have ever met. He was also Marley's first "love."
I call this: Absolut Bling. A few square mirror pieces really add interest to even your darkest, dreariest bar.
Even with more white hair sprouting each week, Marley still has (mostly) a puppy face. It's gotten her out of some trouble in the past, and last week, and last night. and no dog needs it more. 
This made me feel a little bit better about spending so much money on my teeth these past 16 months.
As anointed "Cruise Director," I gladly took on the challenge of meeting and lassoing up all non-retirees on my recent trans-Atlantic cruise. Don't get me wrong, the old people had their charms. We had war stories, and then the same stories repeated. Fragrant elevator "oopsies" and a floating colostomy bag in the therapy pool. But I drew the line at trying to eat dinner and watching food drool out. Not that there's anything wrong with that. If it were my loved one's drool, I'd be totally enjoying their dinner antics. But I wanted to eat steak and not feel like a show off. Mission accomplished!
