Okay, maybe not so much with the Coney Islanding today.

Poor Matt. I've been pining for water for days now and, while rain is technically water, it's not really what I had in mind. So my darling husband, in an effort to appease his grouchy, sea-loving wife, suggested this:

Let's go see Pirates of the Caribbean!

While I have to give him points for creativity, I'm sniffing a bit of an ulterior motive here. (Someone in this house looooves movie nachos.) Frankly, I could not have less interest in this flick. I'm not sure why exactly, I love Johnny Depp and think he's great as Cap'n Jack, but I can't shake the notion that the movie's going to be a whole mess of lame. I have a hard time paying $11 for any movie and ponying up my hard-earned cash to watch other people frolic in the Caribbean is a pretty solid way to lead to gnashing of teeth.

So instead I'm going to the gym. I can stare at the pool while I run, right?