Sorry, I'm a Disappointment

On Tuesday, the fam headed over to my cousin Raymond’s house for a BBQ with Raymond and Dawne’s youngest brother Ron (look at me introducing characters – don’t get used to it.)

Me: I don’t like anything from the sea—that includes seaweed.

Lucas: So when Aquaman asks if you want to so do the weed, tell him you’re straight edge.

Listening to guys talk about motorcycles:

Me: What is the difference between a glider or a sportster?

Ron: It’s like how Chevy has the Impala, Cruze, Volt

Lucas: Ding Dong, Cupcakes, Sno Balls.

We also had a discussion about what is the number one necessity when looking for a mate.  This started very target towards me and my “funny” requirement and blossomed into a “if that’s all you needed you’d have a man by now.”  So I tried broadening the discussion to get some of the attention off of me.  Some answers included, “Big Heart”, “Rich”, and “Female.”

On Thursday’s I have breakfast with Becky, only when I was stepping out of the shower, I got a text for Becky saying, “I’m here!” followed by me panicking and getting dressed and ready in under three minutes—and three hours of my not quite being on my game.  Now that I think about it, the “Not being on my game” part lasted until around 6pm when I made the monumental mistake of forwarding a bantering email exchange with my boss complete with pictures (yes, one was of an overweight man in a spandex Spiderman costume) to a partner.  After I exclaimed “Oh Noes!” over the laughter of my boss, I announced, “Obviously, that’s my cue to leave.” And ran out of the office.  Now, seriously, my boss appears to be chuckling every time he sees me – so I can look forward to never living this one down. 

If I haven’t mentioned it already, Dawne and I have taken to sitting next to each other in the living room with our respective iPads playing Plants vs. Zombies (and a lil Bejeweled because we heart our friends at Pop Cap.) We are oh. so. F-U-N.  (Not sure how this is any better or worse than watching YouTube with Zach, but there it is.)

Matty came over on Friday night so we could all wake early on Saturday morning and go to IHOP.  Oh wait! I forgot! Dawne and Jordan went to a formal black tie event at the Pacific Science Center on Friday night and Dawne in all her gorgeous ball gown glory, got up on the bike that they have there.  Jordan, concerned that the dress would get stuck while riding, asked why should would want to do this.  Her obvious reply was, “Because it will be funny.” Also funny*, was when they returned home and in Casper’s great excitement, he peed all over Jordan’s tux.  (*Disclaimer: This was actually not funny to Jordan at all.) 

Saturday and Sunday we were blessed with perfect weather.  After setting up for the baby shower, we spent the day in the pool and the boat.  I had a bbq to go to but Dawne kept telling me, “Your friends should just understand that when it’s nice out, don’t expect that you’ll leave the house.”  If only. 

People are always making fun of Jamie and his height, which I tried to stop at least at his birthday party, but as soon as I left the party…

Jamie: … because I’m only 28.

Jen: Is that in elf years?

My mother called me to inform me that while my father was looking for something in my room, he found a fake ID.  Now, even though it was for a blonde born in three years before me from Washington DC, I have no recollection of having the ID.  I know for sure that I would have been too afraid to use it, even if there was an occasion for me to use it.  When I explained this to my mother she genuinely didn’t believe me (like I have a reason to lie about that now.)  I told Hayes the story and he said I should have just told her, “Okay Mom.  You got me. I mugged some girl back in college.  I was hoping you would never find out. You didn’t see any other did you?  Right, that’s the only one for sure.”

Sunday was Cathy’s baby shower.  We made onesies (I tried to write “Sorry I’m a disappointment.” But was rushing so it actually looked like “Sorry I’m a disappoinhfg” too bad we weren’t designing things for us to wear.)

(Zach introduced me to a new site!)  

Jen was putting final touches on her three tiered baby shower cake when Nate walked by saying, “Jen, Fine. We get it. You’re talented.”

Nate also had the brilliant idea to bring in the giant purple chair which successfully made Cathy Small in the Big Chair look teeny tiny. 

After the party, those still standing headed down for pool/boat time.  The moment we got down there to swim the curmudgeon next door decided to use a chainsaw on the edge of his property next to pool.  Yes, he was doing it on purpose, and no, we didn’t stop swimming.  

Lily (4): I want to watch the ice melt.

Matty: That’s as fun as watching paint dry.

Lily: No, it isn’t really.

Me: What’s your neighbor’s name?

Dawne: I think it this point it’s “OUR” neighbor.  And her name is Angela.

Me: It’s not like I referred to the curmudgeon as YOUR neighbor and Angela as OUR neighbor. 

Anyway, Angela has a new Béarnaise Mountain dog-puppy.  When they were in the hot tub, the puppy wandered away where he wasn’t supposed to, and Dawne said, “Casper.  Go get the puppy and bring him back here.” So, Casper got the puppy and brought him back.  Who said our commands weren’t effective? 

Donald Duckin' It

I realize that not everyone knows my cousin Dawne (though perhaps one might feel like they do because I talk about her and her family so much.) However, I feel like I need to provide a bit more information about this lovely lady to explain the next story.  See, Dawne raises her kids uniquely and sees the world differently than the average bear.  Mostly, she allows people to think for themselves, is encouraging when most people would say "Ridiculous", and recognizes talents that most people would dismiss.  It is because of this attitude that she ends up with stories like this one:

Last week in PetCo, Dawne was getting a harness for Casper (the Australian Shepherd) and needed help from a sales clerk to find it.  She then told the clerk that she always lets Casper pick out one thing every time they go to the store (because clearly, the dog knows more about what he wants than she does.)  The clerk was like "Yea, right.  Sure, he does. I'm sure he just sniffs the first thing he sees." And wanted to be the judge for herself.  Dawne and the Clerk proceeded to follow Casper around the store, through the toy aisle, past the bones (which is what he usually chooses) and into the food aisle (a first for him.)  He found a hanging drop down thing (I'm sure this has a real name) and found something in the center and pulled it out.  The Clerk was still dubious, so she took it from him, and put it back, and he then went for the same thing.  And then, again, when she took it and hid it among a bunch of other products, and went through and pulled out the same item.  Finally, the Clerk gave up, and decided Dawne was right, Casper knows what he wants.  Only Dawne.  

After doing something that I can't remember:

Me: Jerk!

Nate: No, it's more that I'm self-involved.

I was at lunch with Rollie the other day and he told me a story that I'm sure he didn't want me to share with you.  His friend climbed up a ladder that led to a high ceiling vent.  When he was at the top of the ladder, about 7 feet up, he thought it was be hilarious to drop trou (sp?).  As everyone was laughing, a friend grabbed a wooden spoon and smacked his bare behind.  This created a bit of an unforeseen dilemma for the guy on the ladder b/c he needed to hold on to the ladder, and then try to reach down and pull his pants off, as his friend continued to randomly deliver blows (and the rest of the friends giggled and well, at least one (Rollie) took video and pictures.)  Finally, giving up, the guy discarded his pants all together and Donald Duck'ed it down the ladder. 

I told this story to another friend who, I believe got the most pleasure out of hearing the term "Donald Duck'in it" and promised to throw it into her vocabulary post haste with her husband who is a regular at the Donald Duck'in maneuver. 

On Thursday, Becky and I went to a Trophy Cupcake tasting (for her soon-to-be-sister-in-law).  There were so many cupcakes, even I couldn't finish all of them and I having a serious cupcake overdose. (mmmm good.) We both were seriously considering a brief bout of bulimia on our way to meet up with Jen for the next story. 

(This isn't so much a picture of my food as much as the tragic casualties of a tasting at Trophy Cupcakes.) 

Seeing as we were already out and about, we decided to meet Jen at a store near her house. 

Me: Jen lives to far away, I am surprised and impressed that she comes to any event.

Becky:  Where exactly does she live?

Me: I don't know.  But basically you follow this one road until you hit water and then turn right. 

Becky: Ask her what neighborhood she lives in.

Me: What do you call your home? It's so far away - what is this new land in which you live called? (Asking for a friend who shall remain anonymous. )

Jen: Neighborhood is called North Beach. But I just tell people north Ballard :)

Me: To trick people into coming to visit you?

Jen: Precisely.

Now for why we were meeting Jen.  As you remember, there was a blog post about a giant metal chicken (http://thebloggess.com/2011/06/and-thats-why-you-should-learn-to-pick-your-battles/) and Jen found similar statues down the street from her.  The medium sized ones were nearly $400.

Becky: I found a smaller chicken at Ross but Jared wouldn't let me get it, so I'll go back and get the last one there when he isn't around.

Jordan (to Jared): How much will you pay me to go buy that last one? 

Friday night when I came home I was really bummed out (apparently I’m kind of obvious), so Dawne cheered me up by bringing me to get pedicures—and it totally worked.  Then, in honor of a Harry Potter weekend (how funny were the “It all ends July 15^th” posters btw?) we watched Voldemort in Maid in Manhattan.  He’s so much happier with a nose!

I needed a truncated Harry Potter Marathon on Saturday. Truncated because we all prioritized sleep and going to IHOP over the first three movies.  Before I forget, if you haven't already seen Neville Longbottom: http://i.imgur.com/J0CSl.jpg He done grown up.

Sunday, it was still raining, so naturally, we went to the dog park, the outside U Village mall, and ate outside (anything to ensure that we could have the dogs with us, right Dawne?)  I've been really into Plants vs. Zombies from Pop Cap lately (which Dawne has been obsessed with for ages.)  Only, Jordan has been bringing Dawne's iPad to work with him a lot so she can't play.  To solve this problem, we went out to get Jordan his own iPad. 

Dawne: What color case do you want?

Jordan: Black.

Dawne: You can't have black.  That is the most boring of all the colors.  You can't have Blue either.  How about Orange or Green or Red?

Jordan: Fine. Red.

Dawne: Ugh! That's almost as boring as Blue and Black.  You can't have red. 

(Later at the store, she asked him again and finally, dismissing whatever he wanted, said, "I'll just get you whatever Luke likes.")

On the pronouncing word Conglomerate:

Dawne: That's a hard one

Me: You didn't even try

Dawne: I did on the inside. 

I spent a good portion of yesterday working on a bachelorette party project (remind me to stop being creative--it always ends up being more work) and then tried to take a nap.  Only, one can't take a nap when they live with 8 people because inevitably someone is yelling something, or hammering something, calling, or ya know jamming in his room.  So, after an episode of True Blood and hearing Zach say, "Heh.  You guys still have to go to Luke's gig. Heh." We left to see Luke headline at the Comet Tavern and didn't get back to the house until after one.  (Nothing says cool, like two chicks drinking diet cokes in a bar on a Sunday night playing Plants vs Zombies in tandem waiting for a band to play, by the way.)

On playing Street fighter IV:

Zach: I am totally going to kick your ass.

Lucas: Because you know all the combo's?

Zach: No, I can press buttons faster than you can.

DC Drive By

Last weekend was a bit of a whirlwind.  I left Friday night for Baltimore and after Roy picked me up at 6 am we went back to his apartment and took a nap. (Gotta love a guest who’s first request is nap time, yes?)  We then met the rest of the Penn State crew for brunch where we met the newest edition, Xavier Francis (who apparently was not named after the Cabbage Patch guy, but at 6 weeks already looks like he might get into the business of tattooing—his name only on the rear ends of other babies.)  Erika took her bundle of joy home after brunch and then the rest of us headed up to the Baltimore Zoo (or the MD Zoo in Balto).  I made several jokes about Sarah being 9 months pregnant and needed to walk the baby out, if a zoo keeper can deliver an elephant… you get the drift.  Then, when we got to the entrance, someone working at the zoo made the exact same jokes.  At first I thought she was eerily inside my head until I just realized that my humor wasn’t all that unique. 

Wait, I forgot.  On our way to brunch, I needed to stop for coffee.  I was distracted by I’m sure something on my phone when I heard:

Roy: ugh. These people always take up the road.
Me: The cars?
Roy: The funeral procession. I was waiting for you to look when the hearse was driving by.

Then, when I got coffee, I unknowingly spilled it across my chest (yes, of course on the white tank.)  I didn’t notice until 3 hours later at the zoo—and I guess my friends love me no matter how I look. 

This is us waiting for Sarah to get out of the bathroom/and then Sarah herself.  She was a trooper and made it through 90% of the zoo with us before heading back to VA (and the bits she missed weren’t all that great, I promise.) Then Julie, Nick, Kristy, Roy and I laid out blankets and had a picnic of Brookies that I had brought from WA while listening to the only 10 songs that I had on me.  I’m not sure, but I think Kristy got a nap in also at this point.  Sadly, we had to say good-bye to Julie and Nick who went back to PA.  When we returned to Roy’s we… TOOK ANOTHER NAP.  It was only supposed to be a quick one, but 2 hours later… Kristy was jumping in the bed to wake us up. 

Roy: Do you drive stick
Kristy: Yes.
Roy: Do you like stick?
Kristy: Sure. What is this for?
Roy: No reason it's just something I like to ask.

(I know this is what I usually wonder about when I just wake up.)

Then we went to dinner at this Italian place. 

Roy: Why do I always choose restaurants where I'm the youngest by 40 years?

We ordered beverages and food, and just before the salad arrived the power went out, which did not prevent us from clearing our plates like hungry hungry hippos (that we did not see at the zoo) before we got kicked out of the restaurant, and went for round two.  On our way to the second Italian place, there was a road with trucks parked all along the road. 

Roy: This is where truck drivers stop for blowjobs. Oh! That's Chucks rig. I haven't seen him I'm forever!

Over a delicious dinner, Kristy told us about going to a bikini contest every Sunday where the winning qualities basically boiled down to which contestant could perform the best butt clap.  She then admitted to testing out her own butt clap abilities which inevitably made the contest winner’s physical abilities all the more impressive.  

When we got the hotel in Arlington, my cousins Jonathan, Katie and her husband Kyle were in the lobby.  Katie saw flowers delivered to the hotel and walked over to speak to the florist saying, “Are those for ‘Storms’? Yea.  Those are for us.  Don’t worry, we’ll take them up to the room ourselves, it’s really no trouble.  Yes. I’m sure.  Kyle? Jonathan? Take these up to the room.”

(At breakfast the following morning, Jonathon said, “When I was little, I watched Katie always talking and learned you get into less trouble if you’re quiet.”)

At the WWII Memorial someone asked my dad if he was a veteran and he was highly insulted. 

At the Lincoln Memorial I tried in vain to take a picture with a penny in it.  See?  Katie thinks I need a better camera, but I don’t think the nice camera’s come in pink. 

Apparently, the night before, my cousin Colleen repeatedly offered to go on a drive by to all of the sites.  While Katie appreciated avoiding the very extensive walk, and the added bonus of bringing along beverages, she had to explain to her aunt that perhaps calling it a “Drive By” in the murder capital of the US might not to be the wisest terminology. 

The family was all in DC/Arlington for a memorial service for my Aunt Joan and Uncle Donald.  The night before we had a couple hours in the hotel bar for free happy hour.  My cousin Caitlyn went up to her dad and asked him if he could get her a beer (b/c she is underage) when the gentleman behind her father stepped in and said, “I’m sorry.  I can’t let you do that. I’m a Federal Agent.”  While we were sitting around, I whipped out napkins with Origami patterns on them.  So, while I was putting animal tattoo’s on my nieces and nephew’s hands, I also got to hear my whole family mock me for bringing entertainment.  Personally, I think they were trying to cover up their inability to make a Crane. 

The next morning at breakfast, my niece Jackie took full advantage of the buffet:

Upon dropping a pancake onto his shirt, my nephew Patrick turned to his mom and said, “Thanks for not letting me wear the shirt I'm going to wear today.”

The ceremony at Arlington for my Aunt and Uncle was incredibly impressive.  My cousin Mary and done a lot of preparation and planning to make the entire day perfect, though incredibly emotional for everyone involved.  I don’t have anything funny to say about the ceremony itself but I’ll share a couple stories about lunch after the beautiful memorial. 

First, at lunch, my dad grabbed water from one table then ended up sitting at a different table so he had to two glasses in front of him, one that he had been drinking from.  Momela suggested he give back one of the glasses, so Frita went to do just that when I heard Momela say, “No! The FULL one!”

Mary asked us all to go up and tell some stories of Aunt Joan and Uncle Donald which was lovely, but also intimidating because no one had prepared anything to say.  Here are some of the stories that I remember:

After Aunt Joan died, Mary was making something for her dad thinking it was a favorite, when Uncle Donald said, “That was your mother’s favorite. I hate it.  I just ate it because she liked it.”

Colleen mentioned that Joan would speak, and Donald would back her up—no matter if she was right, honest or otherwise and commented that we would all be blessed to find a partner who supported us so thoroughly. 

Katie always thought that her family was normal (her grandparents Joan and Donald had 8 children) but she realized when she went to Thanksgiving for the first time at her new husband’s parent’s house and they brought out enough food for the 6 or so people who were there, that maybe her family was not the norm.  At Joan and Donald’s there was always not only food for the entire family, and their family and friends (everyone was always invited and welcome) but also food for everyone to take home with them. 

Pat, a son in law, recalled a night of drinking in which, instead of driving home, slipped into a car outside.  His father in law, Donald, knocked on the window, waking him up.  When he saw it was Pat, Donald just replied, “All right then.  Just wanted to make sure someone hadn’t broken into the car for a nap.  Carry on.”

Jennifer told of a Christmas, when her son Donavan was 4, and Joan and Donald came over at 5 am.  Donald and Jennifer went in to wake up Donavan saying, “Santa came!” When Donavan opened his eyes he immediately said, “And he brought Papa!” Then, he went into the living room, passed right by the huge pile of presents, spotted Joan and said, “And Grandma too!” (Later when Curtis, Jen’s husband came back into the room to tell a story, he also went to tell the same story.  It was a good one. J)

My brother Sean was talking about sitting around a table with my sister Maureen and cousin’s Jennifer and Erin and they were all laughing over something and all of a sudden my dad and his brother Donald turned around and gave them the same look, in stereo, and instead of being chastised, they all just laughed harder. 

Joan’s brother told a story about going to see this scary movie when they were little with a possessed hand and as they were in the theater Joan sneaked over and grabbed his neck, effectively scaring the crap out of him.

I mentioned that my first memory of my uncle was being burned by a cigarette, twice.  Maybe not the best memory, but extremely vivid.  And that my dad always told me to call Uncle Donald when I had any school projects because he knew everything there was to know about the family.  And, what I didn’t mention, because everyone was stressing family and togetherness, was my favorite memory of my uncle was just me, Matty and Uncle Donald, sitting in the living room on Sunday night in December listening to him tell stories, because that night was a gift (and now Matty and I know a bunch of deep dark secrets we’ll never tell anyone. :P)

Lastly, when the kids were going through papers after their parents had died, they found a will when Joan had went to visit Donald in Thailand and my parents had watched the 8 kids, plus Sean and Maureen (obvi, this was pre-Tiffany) and the will gave custody to my parents.  I sure hope my new siblings respect how much attention I require. 

                      

That’s my story for this week.  Sadder than usual I guess, but none-the-less, memorable.

Gleaming the Cube

This week was fairly typical.  I mentioned that Lucas might want to watch the movie “Helvetica” and he suggested that I watch two movie trailers, one for Thrashin’ featuring a young James Brolin, pretty boy from the Valley, who, of course skateboards like a rock star and wants to date someone who is from the other side of town.  The second trailer was more my speed, as it had Christian Slater solving crimes and saving the world from communism all from atop his skate board.  This fine film was called, “Gleaming the Cube.” Honestly, the name itself has given me endless amounts of merriment.  I’ve been told by numerous individuals that the BMX version of Thrashin’, Rad, has to be next the queue, for Joy!

(BDug was one of the recommenders, and that is how I am sneaking this next bit in here)

Me: I can't believe people let me tell them what to do.
BDug: I can't believe you think people could stop you from telling people what to do.

After Diana’s birthday dinner on Thursday, Lucas hurt himself skateboarding. He came in, got some ice, and then tried to prop his arm up above his heart to stop the throbbing.  His grandfather said, “You aren't in pain. It’s definitely not throbbing.” To which Lucas, sheepishly said, “I feel like I'm not a man.  I can only hope when I'm your age I am as manly as you.”

As some of you might already know, at my new job, there are a couple of other people with the exact same responsibilities, but completely different backgrounds.  Mainly, they were graphic designers, and I was not.  So, I tried opening up photo shop and was completely intimidated by buttons and commands that I could not even test, never mind master. 

  

Rollie: Let me get this straight.  You are stressed out about not knowing something, that you were not hired to do, and no one has asked you to know or do since you have gotten here?

Me: That is correct.

Okay, then on Friday, my boss, jokingly, said, “I have some color call outs you could help me with”, fully knowing that I didn’t know how to do it and therefore, could not help with.  I, naturally said, “Maybe if you let me watch you for ten minutes, I could figure it out and then I could help.” My officemate and boss were exceptionally kind, showed me what I needed to know, and not only did I help with the one part, while they all went to a meeting, I pulled open a new project and did one from start to finish! My boss basically said, “You’re such a good girl! Way to color in a bomb—and in the lines too!” like I was a 3 year old—but like a three year old coloring for the first time I was on cloud nine THRILLED.  I still might send a picture to my mom so she can put it on the fridge (and at that point, it really will just look like I colored. But YAY! I colored…using Photoshop!)

Saturday, while the Weisman’s were in Victoria, I was extremely successful in checking things off my to-do list.  Like SERIOUSLY successful.  And I took the dogs to the dog park twice—and before I knew it, it was time to go to Shana’s for her 3^rd/4^th party where Mike and Sharon were in attendance!  At the end of the evening, Shana’s mom said to me, “Boy it sure was nice that you guys got time to talk. You and Mike haven’t seen each other in a long time!” and I stared at her for a moment because her genuine statement had thrown me for a loop—b/c it HAD been a long time and it WAS nice of Shana to invite him to hang out with me—but I’m so much more comfortable in the world of sarcasm.

After being nipped by a small dog, Brett’s son didn’t complain but walked back into the house.  Brett then said, “He'll go cry in private…like I taught him.”  (I actually don’t know if Brett said he taught him that, but he should have.)

Shana was telling us a story about a convent in which a real estate agent had a hard time selling the property next door because the Nuns were big fans of skinny dipping.  Apparently, there is a school at which the Nuns all teach, but she couldn’t think of the name right away so Shana said, “The tall model went there...” Oh! The TALL Model! That narrows it down. Shana, “Tyra Banks, smart ass.”

Sharon (after telling us about a religious group called the “Movers” (no mention of Shakers) who didn’t believe in procreating so, over time, their congregation has dwindled down to a whopping 3): Everything I learned about history I learned in a harlequin romance novel. 

We were talking about my cousin being baptized when Sharon asked me, “Which church?” and without thinking, I said, “I don’t know, somewhere in Chicago.”  Hmm apparently the correct answer was, “Roman Catholic.” I’d be a great witness for the defense. 

Yesterday was the big Lady Liberty party at the house.  We had… I don’t know 150 people at the house? I have a hard time with numbers.  We were waiting longer than anticipated when we decided to grab Mexican before the party instead of tried and true American food (McDonald’s) on the 4^th, so Luke asked Dawne to draw a dinosaur tattoo on his arm. 

Dawne: What's that ride? Oh yeah, Jurassic Park.
Me: You know it was a book and movie first.

There were two 7 year olds in the pool, and as I walked by they spoke to me.

Aiken: Can you get me a soda.  I’d like a Sprite. 

Me: No, I can’t.  But you can get one yourself.

Frankie: She’s not your servant.

Aiken: But she works here, doesn’t she?

Jeff: Uh, Tiffany, we have a bit of a situation.  The dogs are eating hot dogs off the table. 

Me to Casper: Casper, now you know dogs don’t eat people food.  People eat people food, okay?

Me to Jeff: I hope I was helpful. 

Even though Zach, Nate and I were all in the general vicinity, when the fire alarm went off, I saw Derek (Zach’s bff) go running to fix it. 

Me: Why does Derek have to fix everything around here?

Derek: Actually Jacob (Nate’s bff) shut it off.

Me: Good job, Other Derek!

Jacob: Wow.  That’s like the nicest thing I’ve ever heard. 

Our neighbor brought over huge boards with numbers on them, so that when people wakeboard/skiing drove by us, we could all rate them.  Ah, the true American Spirit: judging people doing physical feats as we sit on our asses drinking beer.  My only complaint was that the lowest number was a 5. 

Zach was taking the Jet Ski out with his friend Karen.  He got the Jet Ski down from the lift and then started floating out…

Zach: Where are the keys?

Jordan: They are in the drawer?

Zach: Where?

Jordan: In the drawer that you have a hand on.

When he figured it out, Zach rode side saddle over to the dock, and Jordan went running down to the pier.

Rach: Oh man, Zach’s gonna get yelled at.  Jordan is doing his angry walk. 

After a bit of consultation, Karen and Zach were both on their own Jet Ski, and Karen sped off like a professional.

Me: Hey Zach! That’s how you Jet Ski!

Zach didn’t respond to me directly, but he did turn around quickly, completely soaking everyone on the dock, including Angry Jordan.  I didn’t hear him, but I’m pretty sure I saw Zach whisper the word, “Bitches” as he drove away. 


Lucas: None of this outfit is mine.  This shirt is my brother’s and these (bright orange shorts) were left here by someone.  I boiled them so I wouldn't get crabs but they have the guy with the stick, see?
Matty: Most people call him the Polo guy.

(An hour later)

Lucas: Will you go on the boat with me?

Me: I guess.  With all the strangers?

Lucas: Yes, Right now.  The guy who owns the shorts is here.  He walked up to me and said, “Those are mine.  And they are my favorite.”  I told him I would give them back later so now I’m avoiding him. I already boiled them! 

Me: Which guy? That guy dressed head to toe in Brooks Brothers, shirt tucked in and boat shoes?  (He’s 20 year old btw.)

Lucas: Yea.  That guy. 

I updated my status the other day with, “I hate to make a blanket statement, but my comforter is just so cozy.”  Laina then shared the statement with everyone at work.

Laina: My boss then went home and re-told the story by saying, “I hate to make a blanket statement…okay, I don’t remember the rest. I guess you had to be there.”
Mark: No, I guess you just had to remember the last 7 words.

And then, this morning it felt more like January 1^st instead of July 5^th… hence the delay in the update—but I hope it was worth it!