Now noticeably more seaworthy!

Even though I still can't drive -- ethically, if not legally -- I'm proud to report I've passed my skipper licensing with flying colors. Sailing is great. If you think about it, it's a far better approximation of bird flight than is flying in an airplane (and in my bizarre little Esquiver mind, of course, "bird flight" is one of only about a dozen irreducibly awesome things in the world). My only area of demerit was in the "crew overboard" drill (note to any and all potential crew: don't fall overboard), but in all other skill sets I did swimmingly, so to speak.

If only this had any practical application.

Speaking of useless things, now that I'm not spending every spare moment practicing sailing, K and I are attempting to turn raw planks of cheap pine into a high bed frame that can be used to hide the many things we can't find room for in the apartment but can't bring myself to throw out. So far, it's highly risible, in the how-many-humanities-grads-does-it-take-to-truly-understand-a-lightbulb sense. We're spending approximately three hours discussing design, hypothetical force vectors, and the Platonic nature of the materials for every fifteen minutes spent placing woodscrews in at a bad slant. And yesterday evening, having done the theoretical walkthrough, the preconstruction discussion, and even the preconstruction prediscussion, I triumphantly located, excavated, and flourished the drill....only to discover it was British. 240V, the funny plug, the whole nine meters. That snickering at Home Depot...they might not overtly be jeering about Theory versus Praxis, but I'm picking up the subtext, you know what I'm saying?