continued from last entry
Ok back up. Why are we all here anyway? Two years ago a good friend moved down here just before freshman year started. A few months ago he invited all of us to come down and spend Spring Break with him. Hey, that’s cool. Sun tan in Arizona this year kids. I almost wanted to picture it like one of those MTV spring breaks where the college bound cliques would go off and spend their last days together on a beech, having no worries at all. You know, the whole High School party with beer and everything scene.
Illusion. Joke. Don’t make me laugh.
Bill’s parents picked us all up from the airport in two cars and we drove back home. Or at least what home would be called for the next two weeks. With the exception of the disputes over the music that was playing in the car, the 45 minute drive was fine. I had my headphones on anyway. Thank God for the Discman. Can I get an Amen? Ozma screaming in my ear was better than 50 Cent rapping about how he got shot nine times.
We arrive in a neighborhood that looked like it came out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. Every house was the same, and you could tell who was rich by the people who had grass. We pulled into the driveway to the house with the blue door and white shudders, next to the house with the blue door and white shudders.
I walked in the house behind Lisa and Cal. Took off our shoes, and made ourselves at home really. Bill hadn’t really changed that much, and that was a good thing, because neither have we. Well, they haven’t. But it’s all the same. We called sleeping spots, hooked up the Ps2, got lectured on the things we’d be doing, had some lunch, and just hung out. It reminded me of that summer when everyone practically lived at my house. The pool had just been finished, and my mom made weekly trips to Sam’s Club. In a way, I wish I were still 13.
That night we stayed up late and watched movies, told scary stories (believe it or not), and were just generally very nostalgic. I guess Bill’s parents knew we would be tired after the plane rides, so we had a very mild evening. Tomorrow’s a different story though. Climbing Mt Everest is on the agenda at high noon! Combine that with 2 girls, the epitomes of the preppy-jock-beautiful people clique and myself and you get some interesting product. Sleep well, Dave.
Illusion. Joke. Don’t make me laugh.
Bill’s parents picked us all up from the airport in two cars and we drove back home. Or at least what home would be called for the next two weeks. With the exception of the disputes over the music that was playing in the car, the 45 minute drive was fine. I had my headphones on anyway. Thank God for the Discman. Can I get an Amen? Ozma screaming in my ear was better than 50 Cent rapping about how he got shot nine times.
We arrive in a neighborhood that looked like it came out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. Every house was the same, and you could tell who was rich by the people who had grass. We pulled into the driveway to the house with the blue door and white shudders, next to the house with the blue door and white shudders.
I walked in the house behind Lisa and Cal. Took off our shoes, and made ourselves at home really. Bill hadn’t really changed that much, and that was a good thing, because neither have we. Well, they haven’t. But it’s all the same. We called sleeping spots, hooked up the Ps2, got lectured on the things we’d be doing, had some lunch, and just hung out. It reminded me of that summer when everyone practically lived at my house. The pool had just been finished, and my mom made weekly trips to Sam’s Club. In a way, I wish I were still 13.
That night we stayed up late and watched movies, told scary stories (believe it or not), and were just generally very nostalgic. I guess Bill’s parents knew we would be tired after the plane rides, so we had a very mild evening. Tomorrow’s a different story though. Climbing Mt Everest is on the agenda at high noon! Combine that with 2 girls, the epitomes of the preppy-jock-beautiful people clique and myself and you get some interesting product. Sleep well, Dave.