This weekend�s burst of nervous energy had me Bob Vila-ing it up as I put the finishing touches on my now-clean house. I used a hammer, a step ladder, varying strengths of wall hangers, and a caulking gun in addition to my usual arsenal of the Roomba, some CLR (it�s a super-duper cleaner), plenty of paper towels, and Windex.

I actually can�t decide if I was more like Martha Stewart or Bob Vila, but either way I felt like I needed to shave my beard after all that work.

I now have Ming�s scratches on my hallway wall patched over. Pictures are hung. Photos are arranged. My place looks immaculate.

For the previous two weekends when Benito�s seen my place and I�ve said that I�d spent the afternoon cleaning, he never believed me. What he didn�t see was that I was making the way for Saturday, and that it was all part of taking small steps to finish the place up.

GO ME!

So yesterday when Benito and his mom knocked on my front door instead of calling me to meet them downstairs to go to dinner, I wasn�t at all worried. My condo sparkled. It shined. Everything was put away. It. Looks. Fantastic.

Oohs and aahs later, I seem to have made a good first impression:

I kid, I kid. But yesterday was indeed the first time I met Benito�s mom.

She�s talkative, friendly, and luckily just as distracted as I am. The initial meeting seemed to go well. For this, I am glad.

I hadn�t met a parent of someone I�m with since 1997, so I�ll admit that I was a bit nervous. (Although all of my friends� moms loooove me because I have recipes, own a cat, am an independent woman with her head on straight, and am supposedly a good influence on their son or daughter.)

I neither did nor said anything incredibly stupid, and she didn�t turn out to be a nut case (having raised a man I think the world of, I figured it was likely that she would be a-okay), so we were fine on all fronts.

Whew.

I was doing laundry earlier that day and wondering what I should wear for that night. Too casual, and I�m sloppy. Too much skin, and I�m trampy. Too dressed up, I�m a kiss-ass.

Fashionista report: My favorite jeans (not too tight or too low-cut), a cute Banana Republic shirt (fits nicely but not to where you see too much), and my too-cute-to-be-lesbian-shoes lesbian shoes.

[For those who asked, lesbian shoes are practical, non-flashy, flat, slip-on, and comfortable. I have a pair of black ones that undoubtedly fit that description, and my brown ones are just a little too cute to be completely labeled as lesbian shoes. These are the ones I wore.]

All right. Enough about clothes and shoes.

I spent much of my weekend sleeping. I�m just wiped out for unknown reasons. I was supposed to meet up with friends on Friday, but it got too late for me. I was supposed to go to a party on Saturday, but I again fell asleep before things got started. I even went to bed last night at a completely reasonable hour.

Who knows what�s up, but it needs to knock it off before the next weekend comes. Friends and I are crossing the northern state lines for a toobing trip.

I haven�t been toobing in a long, long time, but I read the river rules for a refresher. I started packing last night (since I had nothing left to clean in the house), and I realized that I have no white trash clothes.

If I were to wear my current clothes to the river, I�d risk putting a hole in or getting river sludge on a crisp pair of jean shorts and a cutesy t-shirt of mine. This isn�t going to work.

So after work, I�m heading to Old Navy for some wife beaters. If there�s no Kmart around for my purchasing pleasures, I might as well get my shirts in multiple colors. I�m sure I�ll be in my bikini for much of the trip anyway, so it�s not too big a deal.

Next stop: The local 7-11 for some veggie hot dogs, dog buns, junk food, the required beer, plenty of bottled water, baby wipes, and s�mores supplies galore.

Oh yes. Recently I was selected to take part in a focus group on electronics and designs.

I was mailed a disposable camera and asked to take photos of objects that I like the designs of. So far I�ve taken pictures of the new walk-though statue at Millennium Park, my very cute sandals, my coffee table, Benito�s TV, Benito�s microwave, and a cream-colored VW Beetle with a black convertible top.

This focus group is going to be fun.

"Jo, why did you take a picture of a VW Beetle's design?"

"Because it's cute."

"Jo, why did you take a picture of your shoes?"

"Because they're also cute."

"Jo, why did you take a picture of your boyfriend's microwave?"

"To mock him."

[silence]

�And because it's shiny.�

I now need to find 20 more things to take a picture of before the 28th. I�m sure this won�t be a problem...

Last Tuesday I got an IM from Benito with promises of a Jo-prize. (That�s a surprise for [duh] me, Jo.) My request for a hint was denied, but I eventually got something out of him: It wasn�t a mango.

That man of mine, he�s a real help.

So I�m all excited. I have a Jo-prize! I have a Jo-prize! I have a Jo-prize!

I finally see him this weekend, and I ask, �Where�s my Jo-prize?!�

Him: What are you talking about?

Me: My Jo-prize. The one that isn�t a mango.

Him: (confused) What do you mean the Jo-prize that isn�t a mango? I said it wasn�t a rutabaga. (nervous laughter indicating that I was on to him)

Me: YAY! I have a mango Jo-prize!!

I�m all excited because I love me some mango. We make it to the house, and I�m internally chanting �Jo-prize, Jo-prize, Jo-prize!� (Since I know that had I kept that up the entire trip to his place, I�d find myself locked outside the house with the mango skin and seed thrown at me from his balcony as he ate the mango himself.)

When we got to his place, he started fiddling with the TV. I was messing with my phone for a sec, and he was smiling as I put down the phone.

�Here�s the real Jo-prize...�

Britney Spears� outline flashed on the screen in different dance poses, and her music streamed through the speakers.

After a couple months of checking out the stores and coming out empty handed, Benito went online and ordered Britney�s Dace Beat for me!

Could you hear me squeal from where you were?? If not, I�m sure your dog is at least deaf now.

I played a few rounds successfully before it was time to feed the Benito, and that night I dreamed of playing. I�m pretty confident that I�ll now have a better grasp of where the keys are and what I need to do to continue playing the higher levels.

Whee!!!

Move over Halo, Mario Party 5, Indiana Jones, and whatever other stuff we rent! Britney�s the new sheriff in this videogame town!

All righty. That�s enough ridiculousness for today. Have a good one, all. �