So far today, the day I have dubbed "lazyass Monday":
* Made breakfast (apple-almond pancakes, turkey sausage, roasted taters).
* Changed out of dirty wife b**ter into a clean wife b**ter (sorry my p.c. friends, that's the best I can do), and decided to wear a bra today.
* Moved around some furniture to better accommodate the elliptical, probably won't actually use the elliptical today, figured moving furniture was all the exercise I need.
* Made a mini sandwich out of a leftover pancake and peanut butter, contemplating making another- it was that good.
* May or may not shower- really haven't decided yet.
* Looked outside once for the Sunday paper.
* Looked in the porch for the mail, twice.
* Remembered that it's Monday, and a holiday, three times.
Not a bad day, so far.
My weekend, with photographic documentation:

Saturday morning, after a monumentally disappointing breakfast
here, I slathered on about 47 coats of sunscreen and we headed off to the happiest place in Shakopee, MN...
Valleyfair!
Holy mother of all that is amusement park related I have been sooo very excited to worship at your altar all summer. It has been far too long, my cotton-candy encrusted purveyor of all that is fun. The wait has, however, only strengthened my resolve to conquer all of your roller-coasters, be they big or be they small.
I was giddy and wide-eyed, hopped up on the smell of sweat, fryer grease and fear. I practically ran to the new wooden roller beast,
Renegade. I hoped my first time would be memorable and exciting, but a little rough- just the way I like it.
Damn. That's a loooooong line.
Damn. It's hot.
Damn. That's it? That's all? It's over already?
Damn. All I can say is, meh. Good, not great.
I shake my fist at you, Renegade. You stole my re-virginized roller-coaster cherry and I want it back. And, oh yeah, quit bragging to your friends. Really- you weren't all that and a bag of chips. Nuh-uh.

Now THIS is what I call a thrill ride.
Round, and around, and around, and around, and up, and down, and up, and down...
Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do....(creepy carousel music)
The guys running the merry-go-round looked a little suicidal. Can't say I blame 'em.
*Speaking of merry-go-round, anyone else remember the store by the same name? I bought many hoochie outfits there, including this silver sequined minidress around 1990:

Nice tan.
Moving on-

I want this statue for my back yard.
Anyone who can steal it for me will be the proud owner of a nice, crisp $5 bill. And maybe a shiny quarter too.
They were giving out free corn here all day. I like corn on the cob and all, but seeing all sorts of people walking around gnawing on a cob all day really grossed me out. They were like vultures around this stand.
Ick.
But, even more disturbing than all the Midwesterners "gnawing on a cob" I have to say, was all of the 10-14 year-old girls walking around dressed like sporty hookers.
Seriously.
I can't even tell you how many pairs of short-short-short-tight-SHORT shorts I saw walking around that place- usually paired with either a bikini top, or a minimalist tank. Yikes. Even worse than that were the 18-20 something guys following these girls around and hitting on them. When we were waiting in line for the old wooden coaster (still my second favorite ride there), there was a group of 12-14 year-old girls in front of us (honestly- there is NO WAY any of these girls was older than 14). They had two 19-24-ish guys hanging out with them, and it was obvious from the bits of conversation I picked up that they had just met that day. The one guy with the fucked-up teeth, that we'll call "Cletus" kept putting his arm around one of the more "mature" looking girls, and then would casually let his arm drift down to her ass. She'd shrug him off, then a few minutes later he'd try again. The other dude, we'll call "DJ Jazzy Douchebag" was clearly along as Cletus' wingman. I guess when a trucker hat jauntily cocked to one side paired with droopy jean shorts still passes as fashion for you, you haven't really moved up into the realm of real men. But hey- hitting on a girl that was probably born in 1994 is pretty much still not o.k. by any stretch of the imagination. I wanted to call the authorities of some sort. Or
Chris Hansen.
Dudes, it's called being a pedophile. Look it up.
Anyhoo-
Moving on again...

My new favorite musical group- "Let's Groove"
Their new album "Keepin' it real in the Cul-de-sac" is available at Sam Goody stores nationwide.
Man, if you can find a bunch of goody-two-shoes suburban white kids that can do better renditions of Earth, Wind & Fire songs than
this group of tan, healthy youngsters, well, I may have to hug you, or something.
Shake your groove things, Trevor and Britney and Thad and Pepsi, and...well, the rest of you.

This may be when they launched into "
Shining Star".
Wow, boys and girls, you sure do know how to channel your inner Bootsy Collins.
Any less soul here and we'd be watching Dan Rather singing "Lady Marmalade".
Who's got the funk?
We got da funk!
About 4.5 hours into my amusement-park punch-drunkenness, the heat and the people started to get to me. Really. Even I get tired of gawking at big guts, black socks with shorts, women "of a certain age" wearing bikini tops and way too tight jeans/shorts with stuff hanging out all over, rednecks, farmers, suburban "gangstas" and "1987 called and they want their look back" metal dudes and dudettes.
I needed to go home and wash the stink off.
But it was still awesomely fun. I rode 6 coasters, the merry-go-round and a super-scary
swing ride.
I broke my 15+ years of not having a regular 'ol hotdog, I ate crinkly fries and ice cream. I paid $3.25 for a bottle of water.
I had as much fun as I could take.
We drove home, rested for a few hours, then got ready for dinner.
We went to
Zander for dinner, a semi-regular stop for us. They just remodeled (for the 3rd or 4th time), and I have to say I was disappointed a bit. It was very
beige. Very. Beige carpet, beige walls, beige art. I'm used to it being a little livelier in there, but this time I felt like I was eating in a funeral-parlor lobby, or a very chi-chi hotel lobby. It was a little odd.
The food was good, the wine was better.
Once we ordered, my Mr. unceremoniously tosses a little blue velvet bag on the table.
"I don't know how to do this, so there you go."
He's such a gushy romantic, that one.
I was really excited. Even more so when I saw what was inside.
These:

Garnet and white gold studs to match my engagement ring.
Holy cow.
I love my studs- both the earrings and the man.
Good job on the gift. Really good job. Kind of sorry now that I didn't get you anything, Mr. WM. Oh well.
(And yes, he reads my blog, so he read Friday's post. He was touched, then I was "touched"-
wink.)
After dinner and before dessert, we stopped at Garrison Keillor's bookstore here in St. Paul- "Common Good Books". What a great store. I bought Bill Moyer's son's addiction memoir,
Broken. So far it's pretty good. Maybe I'll finish it today. Maybe not. If you're in or around the area ever, stop in at this store- it's everything a bookstore should be- independently owned and quirky.

This is after dinner and dessert, which we had
here. Dessert was delicious. Chocolate tres leches cake with coconut ice cream. Pedroncelli Merlot for me, Jameson and coffee for the Mr.
I'm a little schnookered here at home, after dinner. I'm not sure what I'm looking at, but you can bet I'm thinking about my new earrings. And monkeys.
Sunday morning was a 2 bloody mary, cheezy hashbrown affair at the
Triple Rock with my gal Blondie. Needless to say, the rest of Sunday was less than productive.
Us magazine unproductive. Made for t.v movie starring Teri Garr on the Hallmark channel unproductive. Blogging about my weekend with pictures unproductive.
Whatever. It was still a good day.
Gotta go- we're moving furniture in the bedroom and I fear the dust bunnies may stage a coup and hold the Mr. hostage if I don't supervise.