Now, onto your regularly scheduled entry on how I picked my ass all weekend...

On Friday night Happy and I visited a friend who just had a baby. Despite my sister�s spawnings, I haven�t seen a brand-spankin�-new human in quite a while.

He was tiny.

And quiet.

And soft.

And smelled good.

For a moment, it made me uterus pang.

But then Happy poured me another glass of Fat Bastard wine, and I remembered all of the things I couldn�t do were I to become all maternal.

So that was the end of that.

The new human was small, noiseless, and nicely squishy, but I�ll leave it to someone else to squeeze them out for several more years.

So I work up early(ish) on Saturday and ran errands. On the el I ran into a family who would certainly have gotten lost on their way to the Sears Tower. Living a couple streets from the Sears Tower, I offered to point them in the right direction as I headed home.

The friendly folks invited me up with them. Having never been to the Sears Tower (despite living in the city for two years and a few streets away from the massive structure for the past eight months), I joined their group.

Benito called as I was navigating the streets, and he got a good laugh at my return to the days of talking with strangers. (Wow -- It really has been a while.) We set a later time to meet up, and I walked through the metal detectors to get into the building.

I�ve been to the Hancock Center a few times, but I only visited at night. Chicago�s street grid was the primary point of interest: all blocks mapped out perfectly, with the seven diagonal streets cutting their way across town. You can definitely appreciate the symmetry and simplicity that makes the town easy to navigate from 93 floors up.

However, daytime sky watching was quite different. I could point out actual landmarks. Wrigley Field. The big cemetery. Oprah�s Harpo Studios. All of the museums. Where I work. The roof of my house.

I may have mostly stopped my routine talking with strangers and seeing where it took me, but this turned out nicely.

I walked home and packed for the rest of the weekend, and then I left with Benito for his place a bit later.

We had our usual watching of the saved stuff on Tivo. (Gotta love House and Lost!) And then we drove to dinner at the sushi buffet. The wait was ridiculous, but it was fun people-spying.

One girl excitedly told another that she just learned that the whole no-eating-after-nine rule wasn�t because your metabolism slows at night. In celebration of learning that it was indeed just a rule to help you keep your calorie count low, she exclaimed that she and another friend celebrated by eating fried shrimp at 2 a.m. that morning.

I couldn�t help but laugh since she was eating something battered and deep fried in celebration of learning more about health.

Another coupling that interested me was this guy and girl there for a date. He kept leaning over and kissing her on the head. She seemed to merely take it as it was and ignore his outward signs of affection. No batting her eyelashes at him (as I do to Benito). No smile in appreciation.

There was no kick in the shins either, so I guess I can�t blame the guy for trying.

As they found themselves silent and him no longer mashing his lips to her forehead, she asks, �If I go to coffee with another boy, should I tell you?�

My ears immediately perked up. I have that eavesdropping radar that tells me when to hone in.

He�s all, �Um, yeah. We�re to that point. You can do what you want, but I need to know what�s up.�

And she�s all, �It was just some guy... And it was just coffee... And that was it...� -- being all defensive without reason since he just said that it was cool as long as he knew.

And then he�s all, �Okay. That�s fine. Whatever. Cool.�

Translation: You can quit bringing it up. I got the picture. I�m not the only one. Blah blah blah.

And then she get let the cat out of the bag that she�s really just getting all girly scheme-y, showing that she was really just trying to get him to admit to being more committed than he (likely) previously stated.

And then he called her out on her crap saying that she was the one seeing others.

[silence]

Men, call your women out on it. Do what this man did -- make her next coffee date/boyfriend appreciative that he�s not dating a manipulative little wench.

(Ya know, minus the constant head-kissing. Women, call your man out on it if he�s being a prissy pants with the PDA. His future girlfriend will also thank you.)

Benito and I went back to his place to try to finish a game we�ve been playing for the past several weekends. No luck. We�re up to the last guy, but now we need more crystals/money to get this device that lets us purchase weapons without going to a vendor. So now we�re playing old missions for crystals/money. Maybe next weekend we�ll finish this off, and I�ll get to mark another item off my list of 101 things to do in 1001 days.

Sleep. Shower. Smooch. Sunday started with work calling him in.

After I cooked lunch (yes, I�ve been given an official girlfriend club card for my not-so-often-seen-by-my-boyfriend culinary actions this weekend), he left for work, and I palled around the house.

I made these white chocolate and pretzel thingys. (Part 2 of me earning my card.)

I read an Esquire. (I love Esquire�s articles, but the fashion is too hoity-toity for me.)

I read a 201-page book on working out at high intensity levels and its effects on the body. (Doing it! Whee!)

I cleaned up the mess that was the kitchen after my burrito-making. (Holy crap -- After a year and a few months, I indeed earned the card!)

I broke the oven. (Who knows. It�s got all of these calculator-looking buttons, and I don�t know how to use it without cursing at it.)

I did some tallying online for all of the �like a fluttering wildebeest� links I�ve gotten that support the American Cancer Society. (Thank you, everyone!)

By then, Benito was just getting off work. He showed me a DVD of what he�s been working on for the past couple weeks of ridiculous OT, and it verified once again (as all his actions do) that he�s brilliant and talented and amazing. (How lucky am I?!)

He drove me home, and I putzed around the house and watched Law and Order (dum-dum!) until late at night.

This morning I woke up at 5:45 to get to my 6:30 workout class. I was nicely awake, but what I thought the day before was some chest congestion ended up being a pulled muscle. Now, when I walk, move my right arm, or turn my head, it hurts.

Tonight I go to what will be my last chiro appointment. I have to break up with him. It�s just not working out with what�s up with me. I�m pulling muscles here and there, and my back has been perfectly aligned for the past several weeks -- indicating that this is apparently a problem that isn�t fixed by chiro care.

It looks like it�s nearing time for an MD of some sort. [shudder] If nothing else, he�ll hop me up on good drugs. That seems to be what MDs do best.

All right everyone. It�s time to wrap this up so I can get some lunch.

Have a happy Monday!�