I think I am A) fighting off a cold, and B) old.

I don't know how Dan does it. He not only had the same amount of weekend adventuring on less sleep, he flew back to L.A. last night, went to another party, and then left for Vegas today.

Whereas I spent last night crashed out on my bed, watching Saturday Night Live, trying to come to terms with the fact that I found Clay Aiken attractive. Not even just attractive -- sexy. He was singing that creepy, horrible song and I was thinking, "Mmm, Clay Aiken."

I don't even know myself anymore.

Dan took all the pictures for the weekend, a lot of which are really good, of course, because he took them. And he took notes, too, so if he ever stops socializing long enough to write about it, I'm sure it will be a comprehensive account.

In no particular order:

We saw the Diane Arbus exhibit at MOMA, which was really amazing. I am regretting not getting the exhibit catalog, despite the $50 price. (Fun fact: one of my bosses -- not my direct boss, but the guy with his name on the building -- lent some photos to the museum from his own private collection.) I don't know a lot about photography, but I know what I like, and I like Diane Arbus. I also really like a lot of her journal excerpts and writings, which is another reason I want the exhibit catalog.

We had very yummy soup-in-a-breadbowl, and a very unfortunate parade-watching experience that I could not possibly do justice at this time.

We went to Napa for an afternoon. We only managed to hit a couple of wineries, but one of them (Artesa) was the most gorgeous winery I've ever seen. And the wine was great too; Dan bought a whole case of Syrah. Vanilla and blackberry, yum.

La Wade hosted the holiday of Chairmas (similar to, but not to be confused with, the holiday of Tablemas). Having friends who throw intimate dinner parties makes me feel very elegant. The prospect of having a -mas of my own someday, in which I will have to "cook" the "food" which "people" will then "eat" scares the bejeezus out of me. (In the best possible way.)

We had a fancy dinner at Millennium which, if you're a vegetarian, is the must-go place in San Francisco. The meal was excellent, particularly the wine. (For the record, it was a Napa Valley Wine Company Pinot Noir from 2001. Can you believe it's been three years since it was 2001? Me neither.)

Foo got this song stuck in my head for two days, and it is still there, in my head. I suggest you do not follow this link if you want to avoid a similar fate. You'll click the link, you'll see the furry singing potato-feet things, and it will be all over for you.

Dan is a friend who I don't see or spend time with nearly as often as I would like, and I am so very glad he came to spend the weekend with me. Even if I am different from his more hip friends: more likely to fall asleep at parties, and a little less likely to follow through on the whole sex-amidst-cardboard-sheep scenario.

Yeah, don't ask.

I spent last week working (three of our clients had big deadlines last week, and I worked late every night) and trying to find time to clean (at least minimally) and dealing with my car (which is at the mechanic getting a new battery, which is what the AAA said it needed). Basically stressing out.

I spent the weekend blithely ignoring my obligations and trying without success to sneak in enough sleep.

Now I'm stressing again. I'm behind on a lot of things (mostly phone calls, which I always procrastinate on because I don't much like the phone) and I might be flying overseas any day now, in the event of my grandmother's death, which they think could be happening at any time.

I get in these awful moods where I am bitchy, resentful and snappish, and I am in one of those moods today. I just want to go home and stare at my Clay Aiken poster until I feel a little more like myself again.

(No, I don't really have a Clay Aiken poster. I swear to you, I do not. But I'm afraid its only a matter of time.)