There's no place like home.

How on earth is it Tuesday? I know for a fact that just a moment ago it was Saturday morning and I was getting ready for rehearsal. Then it was absolutely Saturday around noonish and a very humid rehearsal definitely took place in my apartment. (Side note- waving a fake gun at a very real husband during a first floor rehearsal on a street fest day holds me back as an actress. That's just a personal hangup. "Should we call the cops?" "No, I'm sure it's just a run-through of a very dark comedy.")

Then it was the afternoon in the backyard, trying to fit three months of failed weeding and gardening into two hours. We rescued an errant watermelon vine from the neighbor's yard where it had actually sprouted fruit through the fence. (We were told that it spreads like crazy and that's why people don't plant them in backyards. I DIDN'T KNOW THAT.) I pulled out actual plants and kept weeds because I thought they were pretty. I was reminded that this was not helpful. I made a nice path around the rosebush (formerly covered in hosta leaves- I think hosta is short for hostile. It's an unforgiving plant in the summer, especially if you'd like to have other plants in your garden as well.) During this time I pricked my fingers something fierce and took a thirty minute break in the grass to recover. Somehow at the end of my time "gardening," all seven of the tomato plants were weeded and upright, the lilies were free to be themselves and the herbs lost their afros. Plus, the pretty weeds were no more and the ugly "useful" plants were still mostly in attendance. I think P.J. helped.

Then, I met Kat and Bethany for some Que Rico awesomeness. Actually, it's Que Rico!, but that looks awkward in print. We couldn't decide which type of margarita to get (Mango? Strawberry? Raspberry? Original?) so we got a pitcher of each. We got food, too. And turns out, the outdoor patio was right there at the back of the stage for the Retro on Roscoe. We were in prime position for when HAIRBANGER'S BALL started their set. Oh my God. So, after dinner (and after P.J. joined us for one final pitcher) we walked behind the fence to see the [free for us] concert. We danced to Pat Benatar, GnR, Poison and Ratt. Heck, after that much tequila we would have rocked out to Barry Manilow. (I'm a fanilow, after all.) We finished up the night in the (newly weeded) backyard to enjoy the gorgeous weather on blankets...and, you guessed it, another drink. The night ended wonderfully.

The next morning, not so much. However, I rallied and made it back over (a block away) to the Roscoe fest again. Met P.J. (who had already been at a two-hour theater meeting, God bless him) and Annie and Jared for some street fest food (Turquoise! Possibly the best restaurant in Roscoe Village!) and pining over jewelery and sundresses. Okay, that last part was just Annie and me.

After that came quite possibly the lowest-energy rehearsal ever. Our extraordinarily tolerant director Lucinda patted us on the head and told us to have a nice evening. So we did! I made pesto from the non-flowery basil in the garden and it was really quite good. Despite the [GROSS ALERT] mealworms we found in some of the pasta boxes- I'm told this is normal and nothing that I'm failing to do as a housewife, but I don't know if I truly believe it- we still went on to have a great dinner. I only ate half of my normal portion. Coincidence? I may have hit on a weight-loss aid greater than even Core Rhythms. Disgust! We watched "Primal Fear" and the ending made me a little miffed. So miffed, in fact, that I face-planted on the bed and slept for almost seven and a half hours.

SO. Then it was somehow Monday and I felt like a pioneer getting to work, what with the completely black skies and the sideways wind and rain. It was a bit of an indoor day with Jack, but we didn't let that slow us down. We did Core Rhythms together. We watched a good episode of Sesame street (okay, it was the one with the dancing flowers again.) We ate part of a Fruit Flowers gift basket. We napped with wild abandon and when we woke up, drew train tracks for Thomas and Percy to travel upon.

And THEN P.J. and I went to see some homes with a realtor! Turns out, when a home's listing says "gorgeous Victorian on a highly desirable street," it means that the rugs are covered in 50+ years of cat pee and cigarette smoke and the back staircase slopes at an acute angle. Move right in! And there's nothing quite like hearing about how a homeowner's husband passed away three months earlier while she's showing you the powder room. It rather quashes the dual goal of a low ball offer and self-respect. And having the listing agent corner you in the attic to inform you that the sellers are extremely motivated and will take into account the extreme renovations that will have to be done (all you need to do it tear down the interior walls, rip the carpets and fortify the floorboards in the kitchen, bathroom and sun porch!) is sometimes the only impetus one needs to plop down 20%.

Maybe we'll rent for a little while longer, we decided as we made our way home to the lovely three bedroom Roscoe Village apartment. But that was before the crazy thunderstorms started...with TWO tornados touching down in the city proper! And it was around this time that we realized that renter's insurance doesn't cover acts of God. And the winds and rain battering our windows were absolutely acts of some angry being. The tornado sirens went off and that always makes me feel like a lost three-year old. The thunder was truly the room-shaking kind and also the kind that lasted until 4am.

Oh...so that's how it got to be Tuesday. That makes more sense now.

We're seeing "She & Him" tonight at the Park West! I do love me some Zooey Deschanel. The last time I went to the Park West I was recovering from ovarian surgery (four days previously, in fact) and the bass felt a little brutal. Due to the fact that this has not happened recently it should prove to be loads better!

Okay, it's nap time now. Phew.