Don’t Be Such a Beach.

This one is going to be longer than usual, so brace yourself.

A lot of fun-type things have happened over the last week. Wednesday, at least I think it was Wednesday, Michael came over and we inhaled a sickeningly large amount of Sonic food. But wait, the fun doesn’t stop there. All of my college friends, minus a few of my favorites, went to the basement and made brownies and watched Beauty and the Beast. Who doesn’t like brownies? Who doesn’t like Disney? Exactly.
That was like a visit to my childhood, except Michael was included that time. Aside from the fact that I have a personal thing about unnecessary talking/singing during movies, it was pretty awesome.
Afterwards the brownies went back upstairs with us, minus the Michael, and we gorged ourselves on brownies and milk on Jenn’s floor. That was the second time in one night that I consumed way too much for no reason. We ended up watching another movie: Fantastic Mr. Fox. The one time that I actually enjoyed a George Clooney movie. Why? Because I couldn’t see his face. It was a pretty cussin’ awesome movie. I definitely recommend it, mostly because of all the big names that are in it.
Underlying icky feeling of the night? Tension between some and awkwardness between others leaves me feeling yucky.
Thursday I went to class, packed up, and went home early so that I could get ready to go to the beach on Friday. Let me be clear with this: I had the full intention of skipping my classes (because I ooze rebellion). I told my mom that my only two Friday classes were canceled. Well, here comes Friday. I get a text saying that our English class was canceled because my professor was sick. Really? I fail at skipping classes.
For those of you who have never had anything to do with me when I am going on vacation, I just want to let you know: I have a packing problem. I have been told that I get it from my grandmother. I have to be prepared for anything and everything. Why is that? Well, I have this funny thing about being unprepared. I will kick myself for longer than necessary if I didn’t bring something so simple. I started typing a list of the random crap I packed just to give you an idea, then I realized I was about two paragraphs into this list and nowhere near done. I deleted it for the sake of your sanity.
Friday Michael and I packed up the Solara and headed to the beach with the ipod on shuffle. We had to make a quick detour at my dorm because, well, I forgot to pack shorts. Beach vacation, and a shoulder bag full of jeans. Fail Number Two! We stopped before that and grabbed some Chick fil a meals for lunch. In order to run into the dorm in time, I had to eat pretty quickly. It was gone in five minutes, and I still had plenty of Dr. Pepper to spare. Ahh, satisfying. Driving, driving, driving. Music and banter. But wait, blue lights? That’s right folks. Michael got his second speeding ticket in a year. This one is for going 80 in a 60. I don’t know how many points this one will cost him, but it is going to be $185. It’s like plucking a stone from the side of my phantom engagement ring.
When the mom car (mom, my sister, and my sister’s kids) arrived we all got settled in our respective rooms. Ocean ocean, yeah yeah. We went to a great restaurant called Sea Captain’s House. Oh yeah, fantastic.
Saturday I had a wonderful and nutritious breakfast of lucky charms, while Michael chowed down on last night’s steak. To sum up that entire day: The ocean is still cold, SPF 90 really does work, The pool is freezing, the lazy river feels like pee, and the hot tub melted my skin off. But wait, there’s more! I love Riesling, and Kahlua and cream, Putt-Putt at the beach is always fun, even if mom effortlessly kicked everyone’s ass, and there is nothing like watching tv and drinking margaritas with the family to make you feel like you’re at home.
Sunday morning Michael and I walked around the beach to find shells. We found some cute ones, some ugly ones, and some in between. I found a tide pool full of baby clams that were eating. The girls carried a fist full of those clams around in a beach bucket and mom got worried that we were killing them. We buried Michael in the sand. I made him into a beautiful mermaid! The girls made his boobs a little lopsided though…
I finally manned up and jumped into the ocean. I ended up staying there for a very long time. Michael and I vowed not to not go home tan so we rebelled against the SPF 90 and went bare. Ow.
When we left the beach, Myself, Michael, my sister, and the girls went in the same car because we wanted to get home for our lives to pick back up on Monday. Mom didn’t have to work until Tuesday, so she was staying to continue to lay on the beach, dine in fancy restaurants, and visit the bar. She cried as she saw us off, telling us she loved us. Oh mummy. I love you. Well ten minutes down the road she calls to tell us that she is coming home! Poor momma couldn’t even last an hour by herself. Eventually when we made it home and myself to my dorm, she called and told me that she doesn’t want me to leave.
You see, Michael and I had originally planned on moving to Atlanta after school so that Michael could take advantage of a business opportunity. That fell through, so we are probably going to be staying near home. My mom thought she could be independent; that she wouldn’t need any of us. We need each other, and that’s perfectly alright.

Peace, Love, and Pudd'n Pops
AMZ

Did that noodle really just come out of my face?

The heat has been turned off in my dorm room, but the air has not been turned on yet. If you turn on the vent it will dump out warmer than desired stale air that only makes the fact that it is at least 85 in our rooms worse. So, because it is better to suffer together than apart, I am hiding in a friend’s room. I intended to work on an English paper…but since I have forgotten my flash drive with my prewriting on it, and because it is all the way down the hall and down one flight of stairs, I have decided just to update le blog. Okay, so it isn’t that far away, but it is hotter than Dante’s Inferno in this place and moving just makes it so much worse. Opening the windows solves nothing because of the pollen blizzard that is blowing around outside. I could make a pollen angel or pollen man out of this crap.

Michael’s brother accidently let it be known how much money Michael has in the bank. To his brother, this wasn’t a big deal. To Michael is was a tragedy. To myself, I finally found how much money is in the engagement fund. Trust me people, it was something for me to be excited about.

I enjoyed my Easter Sunday. I didn’t get gifts or go on an egg hunt. I just spent the day with my mom. We ate a small dinner of mashed potatoes, turkey loin, deviled eggs, carrots, and corn. We had a bottle of wine, and some pudding pie for dessert. I suppose what I enjoyed the most about it was that I spent two hours at the kitchen table talking to her and enjoying myself. We talked about marriage and weddings (her previous one and my…impending one). We talked of futures, of family, of finances.
It was pretty swell.

Speaking of hilariously painful happenings, Friday I committed myself to working in my room. I skipped the campus food and went for a college classic: Ramen. So here I am, slurping ramen (from my RAMEN BOWL!) and watching tv. Cough. Choke. Gag. Then I am okay again. Except…my nose is on fire. Ten minutes later I try to purge my face of this demon pain. Wam Bam—I blew a noodle out of my nose! It hurt like hell, but it was fantastically hilarious. So much that I took a picture of said demon noodle and sent it to Michael.

Anyhoozles, I have to go and be collegiate.

Peace, Love, and Pudd’n Pops,
AMZ