In my day titles were more than just cheap gimmicks.

I'm in training to be an old person. Making good progress, too. I've mastered the chair nap, gotten the damn kids off my lawn, and spent all day Sunday at the RV Show. It was too a very romantic Valentine's Day! Sure, my boyfriend wanted to take me to the botanical gardens, and yeah that would have been a more traditional way to celebrate. I for one can't think of a grander romantic gesture than spending an entire day allowing your girlfriend to cram you into an endless succession of little rooms that you can't stand fully upright inside of just because you know it will make her ridiculously happy, though. Poor thing's probably still a bit stooped. It's a noble stoop, though. A manly stoop. A stoop of chivalrous sacrifice!

Also he's as dedicated to finding opportunities to eat mini donuts as I am, and I know sugar's romantic. After all, giant multi-conglomerate corporations say so, and giant multi-conglomerate corporations are never wrong. About anything. Ever! You don't believe me just ask their legal departments. Bring a lawyer to translate. And whatever you do don't sign anything.

No, I can't afford an RV. Yet. I can afford the RV accessibility atlas of North America, though, so that's a start. It has a special plastic cover you can safely spill soft foods on and everything. What I can do in the meantime, too, is help above mentioned boyfriend refurbish his Boler Trailer. Boler trailers are definitely romantic. One could even go so far as to say they're forcibly romantic. They're so small that two people sharing one have two options. One is killing each other. The other option requires just as much energy, can be just as messy (if done correctly), and is generally speaking a bit harder on the suspension, but it at least leaves a second person around to share driving duty for the trip home and offer important navigation assistance, like notifying you immediately after you've just passed the turn you needed to take and wiping lunch off the atlas.

Apparently all we need to do to get the Boler back in business is scrape off the lichen, sand down and paint the exterior, remove and replace all the trim, rewire all of the electrical, completely reupholster everything, sew up some curtains, get some tires and new windows on the thing, and do some fixing stuff with the scary explodey can that runs the stove and fridge (pretty sure that bit won't be my job). So far we've managed to pick a color. We're in agreement that bright yellow would best minimize the risk of it getting lost in particularly dense foliage, which for a Boler trailer would mean a particularly precocious second season shrub. We'll just need to be careful of black trim to avoid any embarrassing and potentially painful mating attempts by stinging insects. But really, once those little odds and ends are dealt with hey presto - we'll be rugged and outdoorsy Grizzly Adams types ("Grizzly Adams types" being defined as "people who live in a can without a toilet").

Wow. I already feel so nature-ey and stuff I can't stand it. I'm practically a moose.