05.05.03 - 8:20 p.m.

Ahh. Charade is on AMC. The real one. Not that Mark Wahlberg/Thandie Newton/Jonathan Demme crap. And though we have a VHS copy unmarred by commercial breaks I could be watching at any time, it's just more fun sometimes to happen upon something great like this on TV.

So Dan drove my snuffly ass out to Liz and Bob's barn in the Hamptons this weekend, which was a great idea, really, what with the beach and the relaxation. And the new medicine (now it's a Clarinex/Flonase cocktail) has been working like a charm, so I feel nearly normal again. How restorative.

There was a lot of strolling through idyllic streets lined with fluffy flowering trees, and a lot of gazing in the windows of overpriced shops. And there was the eating of a Dreesen's donut (cinnamon, bien sur), which juuuuust might surpass Krispy Kreme as my favorite donut ever. Dan thinks this is sacrilege, but one does not have the slighly ooky feeling of a stomach coated in lard after polishing off a Dreesen's donut. There is just a happy warm fullness, whereas with a Krispy Kreme you get the ookiness and a slight feeling of being unfulfilled.

I forced Dan into buying me a pair of earrings at Obligato on Sunday. I was drunk from one stupidly strong margarita at the Blue Parrot and I'd already shot my wad on the beige and red perforated leather Michael Kors sandals with red stacked wood heels (as tasty as they sound, I assure you), so I told him that "that's what boys do for girls they like." Then I felt awful, like a junkie begging for her fix, but they really are swell. Very thin interlocking gold circles, shoulder-danglers. I'm just not used to not buying my own jewelry.

The other major fashion discovery of the weekend was the whale pants. On the same street where we discovered the monkey pants over Christmas (though I don't think it was the same store) was a pair of Lilly Pulitzer-style whale pants. So apparently you wear monkeys in cool weather and whales in warmer times. Makes complete sense to me.

Saturday night, after we returned from strolling but before we went out for dinner, we were treated to a random display of fireworks. They were low in the sky, muted through the pane of the sliding glass doors, arcing one at a time into the air -- and they reminded me of the final tableau in the Mexico boat ride at Epcot.

I can't believe Bassett didn't tell me about this last time we visited, but the upstairs bathroom at Liz and Bob's was filled with SKULLS. Cow, ram, antelope and other animal-type skulls all over the walls, staring at me as I tried to brush my teeth and shower and squirt Flonase up my nose. As if that weren't creepy enough, there was a door leading to a small storage area under the eaves, with a small square hole cut window-style into it. But there was no glass. Just an empty hole, leading into darkness. I have a longstanding fear of dark corners, and this combined with the animal skulls was a little much.

I will have to explain my fear of dark corners at some point. I was planning on talking about the elevator in the haunted dorm I used to live in, but now is not the time. It is Cinco de Mayo and time for beer instead. Belgian wheat beer (Blue Moon), not Mexican crap beer, but does it really matter? It is celebratory beer (like a celebratory ham) just the same.