Golf. I discovered this at a friend's bachelor party. Don't get me wrong - a day on the links with friends, wearing a kilt and whacking the life out of a tiny white ball is a fun day. I even managed not to burn too terribly! We played a whole 18 hole game, and I succeeded in my goal of coming in under double-par. But only just barely.

The night before our fundraiser for the Human Rights Campaign at the "Chick-on-chick-fil-a" dinner was a modest success. We certainly countered the contributions of obnoxious conservative friends who posted their joy at giving money to chick-fil-a. And if I'm bad at golf, it turns out I'm fairly good at frying chicken.

I am bad at house-hunting, and bad at waiting patiently to save Beowulf from the shelter and take him to his future home. I'm bad at sleeping an entire night, because I mostly just don't do that anymore, about which I'm mightily tired. Both literally and figuratively.