my life is basically a nelly video. we're trying to get out and do some kind of outdoor activity every day pre or post dinner - spend some time in the sun, burning some calories, catching up on the day's events, getting the heart rate up, you know. yesterday was frisbee and then no-rules tennis, tonight was basketball skills training. i suck. my shots are all arm, no lower body. i can semi-dribble without looking at the ball, but it's dicey and inconsistent at best. oh and i'm also playing against someone who IS A FOOT TALLER THAN ME. it's like total mutt and jeff (i know the reference, but not the referent - i think it was way before my time) out there.
for dinner i made grilled salmon brushed with a maple lime butter on top of a couscous salad with raisins, sunflower seeds, diced tomatoes, cucumbers, and scallions and dressed with lemon juice and olive oil. it was very fresh and we ate it alfresco and it was lovely. i love eating outside. natural lighting is food photography's best friend.
now we're going to sift through the detritus from our life while watching "mad men" season 1. we're on a big cleansing kick. taking advantage of the fact that the dotytron hasn't found gainful employment and is a kept man, and the fact that we have a giant spare room and we can start packing up the little used things and storing stuff in there that's already passed the cleanse test. we're getting rid of A LOT. it feels good to take stock. moving is nice like that. i'm pretty adamant about not wanting to carry useless stuff with me from house to house and i'm trying to break the dotytron of his lamentable sentimentality. it was working fine until he tried to get me to part with my collection of rave tapes. "but i had sex with kolin!" "this goldie set is recorded live from a DAT!" [that means nothing] "who knows what's on this brockie tape!" now i don't have a leg to stand on. i've whittled them down but i'm hanging onto more than i should. the dotytron is going to turn them into mp3s so i can continue chugging along nostalgia lane - the annexes of my storied past.