No Excuses

I can't believe it's been more than a week. I started to write a few times at work last week, but then realized I was in such a state of frustration that I risked writing something I might later regret (it's easy to forget sometimes that I'm writing on a public website that's accessible to anyone with Internet access).
But the sun is out today, the temperatures have stayed above freezing for a week, and I've got a vacation coming up. So I'm in much better spirits now.
My husband went upstate last weekend with some of his buddies, so I spent Saturday with my girl friends. This is not a bad exercise for couples, I think. There are just some activities that are more easily enjoyed with members of the same sex. Shopping, for instance, is much better with girls. Same with brunch. But cigar smoking and scotch? Or being doused (albeit in wetsuits) by buckets of 29-degree water? I'll leave that to the men, thank you.
So while my husband and three of his friends rafted down the Indian River rapids on Saturday, I walked through the temporary "Nomadic Museum" on Pier 54 with three girl friends, checking out Gregory Colbert's haunting exhibit. "Ashes and Snow," is comprised of several photographs of Asian and African adolescents posing in prayer or provocative positions with leopards, elephants, and whales--none of the images, as we later discovered to our astonishment, the result of digital manipulation or montage.
After successfully negotiating their way through the Hudson River Gorge, my husband and his friends returned triumphantly (if a little wet) to the Bear Trap Inn to indulge in some Scotch and cigars on their porch (well, on their porch chairs in the parking lot). Meanwhile, I was soaking up the sun with my friends over mimosas and egg-white omelettes at a sidewalk table at Florent in the Meatpacking District in Manhattan. That night, as my husband and his friends knocked back beers at the Adirondack Mountain Grill, I was sipping my way through four course's worth of wine--along with a three-cheese plate with toast and fig jam, roasted chicken with stuffing and asparagus, a dried fruit platter, and chocolate souffle with Earl Grey ice cream--at my friend Laura's "wine pairing" dinner party.
Needless to say, both my husband and I woke up hung over the next morning. I finally dragged myself to the gym, then sat on the porch in the sun for awhile while I chatted away on the cordless with my friend in San Francisco and then my sister in Chicago. Meanwhile, he and his friends hiked their way up and down a trail in the Adirondacks then piled into the jeep for the four-hour ride back to the city.
By the time Victor got home, we were both sun-burnt and sleepy, but we were still eager to swap stories of our weekend adventures (if not to trade places).