1. This weekend I went to Cedar Point (which is an amusement park, if you don't live in Ohio). It was great fun, but I have learned that eight rollercoasters is my limit. After nine, rollercoasters go from "whee!" to "blurg."*
2. Glee's season finale is this week. I still watch it, and I still enjoy it, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that my enjoyment is tinged with regret for what might have been. There was so much promise in the show that just hasn't materialized. But that's always the risk when you sign up for a new show, and when it works out (I'm looking at you, Friday Night Lights), it's like heaven.
3. I've been writing a lot, which means I've been reading a lot of nonfiction (I can't read a lot of fiction when I write, because I get contaminated), and I didn't realize until recently that there re good and bad nonfiction writers. I don't know why I didn't realize that, because, DUH, of course, there are good and bad nonfiction writers, but it just never occurred to me to pay attention. I will say this: a good nonfiction writer can make me interested in any stupid topic.
4. I also painted my living room this weekend. (I know, contain your excitement.) Still, it's a great feeling of accomplishment, painting a room. Now I only have to do the trim.
* I didn't puke, in case you care, but it was close going for a few minutes there.