I'm at work now.
It's Tuesday, the day after the 4th of July. It was a long weekend full of sunbathing, drinking, too much food, too much drinking, and too much researching where each checkpoint in LA was set up. It wasn't a crazy holiday like some in the past. I woke up every morning knowing where I was and who I was next to, which will make my boyfriend happy. Five blondes in a convertible headed down to San Diego on Saturday a.m. and what should be a 2 hour drive made into a 4 hour drive. Along with one of our friends being abnormally drunk from one tilt the trip was a success. We were able to dance, ride in a 'bike cart' around Downtown San Diego, lose Jenna, fall over a curb, eat Subway after hours where Stacie apparently picked up the Arabic language, "I know you're talking about me, I know what you are saying!", fight about one of our friends not having cash, fight about walking instead of cabbing, and learn that Jenna sounded slightly like a lesbian as a child and also had a teen line.
After the weekends events, I've concluded that not only should we have the day after a holiday off of work, but we should have the entire week off. Especially for our nation's holiday. The older I get, the longer I need to recover and the longer it takes me to remember the events of the weekend.
At the gas station where Katie got a long-haired man to come over and take our photo. |
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