This Weekend I... Volume 5

High in emotionally-charged protein

This weekend I... went to Crayfest at the Smack Shack. It's a lobster restaurant that sponsored a block party with all-you-can-eat crayfish and all-you-can drink beer and hurricanes. Oh, and there were a couple of bands. It was a pretty decent way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

I took full advantage of the booze, but I just could not get into the crayfish. Actually, to be completely honest, I didn't even try a single one. I think it was the faces. And the legs. And the long ass antennae shooting out at you. 

And the eyes. Those little black eyes that still look sort of afraid. 

This weekend I... convinced the boyfriend to get my oil changed for me. I refuse to do it myself. I'm afraid I'll drive in wrong, and my tires will fall in between those tracks, and my car will get stuck, and it will turn into a big disaster, and all the workers will laugh at me. Mortifying.

The boyfriend says this is ridiculous and tries to argue with me about it every five thousand miles. But this time I bargained with him and said that if he just does it for me without arguing, then I won't make him come to my family reunion on Sunday.

It's all about compromise.