Independence Grove
The day began with an hour-and-a-half work-out at Bally's. We then headed to Independence Grove, only to be informed at the gate by a burly, soft-spoken grandpa that the beach was closed for water treatment. Who the fuck treats a lake and what would you treat it with? The next thing you know five-eyed, fluorescent fish will be coming out of the lake to devour over-enthusiastic picnic-goers.
Disappointed, Oliwia and I went in anyway, planning to just lie around on the grass and burn, until, 'lo and behold: sprinklers. Like the five-year old cretins we are, we took our blankets to the side of a hill, put on music through my phone, and jumped into the sprinklers with unrelenting enthusiasm. People were passing by looking at us like they've just discovered the missing link(s), but we were happy and wet, so we didn't really give a flying damn. Not until they turned off the sprinklers anyway, but we had a good three hours of sun and fun, so we left Independence Grove pretty content.
Later that night, we hung-out with Vikki. Due to extenuating circumstances*, I wasn't able to go to his house, so we wound up at my house instead. Most of my family was there for dinner so naturally it was a madhouse. Diane, the human foghorn, was taping transformers to the door and crouching behind the wall performing a ventriloquist act with it. CJ was running all over the place, tripping over things and eating anything he can get his hands on. Everyone was, as always, talking in loud, uninhibited tones as if they were in a rock concert. Vikki and Oliwia were a little shocked and overwhelmed by this, but they enjoyed being at my house regardless because the food was good and the company was even better (me). We made a quick ice-cream run and future plans to hang-out were made.
Vikki and Oliwia seemed to hit it off, so I decided to capitalize on that by maybe stirring something up between the two of them. Sure, neither of them are romantically interested in the other, but that's repairable. That, and I don't have a boyfriend so I get unbearably bored. If they really are good friends they would just let me have my delusional fun, and if they wind up having 400 babies and living in a fairy-tale castle in Edinburgh, all the better. What can I say, I'm a humanitarian. You are so lucky to have me. I love you, Pavlin. I'll e-mail you so we can synchronize our schedules and figure out when I can call.
*More later.
Disappointed, Oliwia and I went in anyway, planning to just lie around on the grass and burn, until, 'lo and behold: sprinklers. Like the five-year old cretins we are, we took our blankets to the side of a hill, put on music through my phone, and jumped into the sprinklers with unrelenting enthusiasm. People were passing by looking at us like they've just discovered the missing link(s), but we were happy and wet, so we didn't really give a flying damn. Not until they turned off the sprinklers anyway, but we had a good three hours of sun and fun, so we left Independence Grove pretty content.
Later that night, we hung-out with Vikki. Due to extenuating circumstances*, I wasn't able to go to his house, so we wound up at my house instead. Most of my family was there for dinner so naturally it was a madhouse. Diane, the human foghorn, was taping transformers to the door and crouching behind the wall performing a ventriloquist act with it. CJ was running all over the place, tripping over things and eating anything he can get his hands on. Everyone was, as always, talking in loud, uninhibited tones as if they were in a rock concert. Vikki and Oliwia were a little shocked and overwhelmed by this, but they enjoyed being at my house regardless because the food was good and the company was even better (me). We made a quick ice-cream run and future plans to hang-out were made.
Vikki and Oliwia seemed to hit it off, so I decided to capitalize on that by maybe stirring something up between the two of them. Sure, neither of them are romantically interested in the other, but that's repairable. That, and I don't have a boyfriend so I get unbearably bored. If they really are good friends they would just let me have my delusional fun, and if they wind up having 400 babies and living in a fairy-tale castle in Edinburgh, all the better. What can I say, I'm a humanitarian. You are so lucky to have me. I love you, Pavlin. I'll e-mail you so we can synchronize our schedules and figure out when I can call.
*More later.