Last weekend, I memorized I Am The Very Model of a Modern Major-General.

If this seems random and useless to you, let me defend my time use by saying my friends have instituted what can best be described as a weekly talent show during our Tuesday night get-togethers.

(To avoid confusion, I should clarify that my friends and I now hold our Tuesday Nights on Wednesday.)

Lindsey and Skye recited favorite poems.

Jeff played the guitar.

Anna read a short story by Roald Dahl.

Meredith… well, Meredith demonstrated how many marshmallows she can fit in her mouth.

(Please, don’t try this at home.)

And I sang I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Major-General.

In the effort of full disclosure, there was a video taken of this. However, I’m not quite sure the extent to which I’m without shame enough to share it.

Last weekend, I attended the Night of 1,000 Casseroles.

There were far fewer casseroles than promised.

There were, however, more than pictured.

Exhausted from trying to figure out the beats to the fifth verse, I neglected my party photographer duties until late in the night.

I’m quite ashamed.

Last weekend, I saw the Blue Man Group with Lindsey.

That is, Lindsey went with me.

She hasn’t recently joined the Blue Man Group.

Though I do enjoy the visual of Lindsey coated in body paint.

Paint that I then attempted to buy on the Internet and paint that that Internet refused to supply me and seriously Internet, what is up with that?

The reason Lindsey isn’t in this photo is that I forgot to take it when exiting the theatre and it was only later that day when we happened to drive by that I screeched “Lindsey, pull over, right now, pull over!” I then jumped out of the car and quickly took a self portrait of myself with the unreadable theatre sign in the background.

Totally worth it.

Last weekend, I did not get my oil changed.

It was on my to-do list – right between memorizing a patter song and calling my grandma to discover what to put in my dish alongside Velveeta.

Yet, do it I did not.