1) Shower infrequently, a la grade school summers. Sadly bereft of my parents' pool, I won't be able to offer n.o.c. airtight excuses like, "But there was chlorine! I'm bleached!" n.o.c. does not like to go without bathing; it makes him grumpy and lethargic. Not me - I feel my best when I'm so dirty that I'm almost clean again. My hair starts to look interestingly tousled and piece-y, and I can grow seeds in my bellybutton. You're really living when you achieve that state. You're fecund, awake, aware. You're basically Thoreau.
2) Work on my posture. I look like a char woman.
3) Make things with dough, then give them to others so as not to resemble said dough - you are what you eat. Speaking of (loosely), the folks who sell eggs at our farmers market look exactly like chickens. Little heads, fluffy rears, stick legs - the whole shebang. n.o.c. thinks they may actually be chickens in human guises, selling their own produce to an unsuspecting public. Inneresting.
4) Write. Blog. Read. Repeat.
5) Reupholster this chair:
Am I delusional?
6) Have callous-free feet. This effort will be helped along, no doubt, by the accumulation of natural body oils that infrequent showering allows.
7) Make macarons. These are very different from macaroons. Do not be confused.
8) Go places. More on that to come.
9) Make weekly batches of salsa. And gazpacho. An all-tomato diet should nicely counteract my dough and macaron efforts.
10) Get rid of even more stuff. Enough with stuff! (You can use that catchy phrase, if you'd like. I'm generous with my genius.)
11) Other suggestions?
In other news, my lovely Grammy stayed with us last night, and she and I played seven games of scrabble. The record is unimportant. You needn't know that I only won two games, or that her cumulative score was several hundred points higher than mine, or that she now knows all the three-letter words in addition to all the two-letter words. That sort of information would be totally superfluous.
