I'm pretty excited. On Thursday afternoon I'm hopping in my little Honda Civic and high-tailing it for super exotic, uber exclusive Ocean City, New Jersey where my family has been eagerly awaiting my arrival since last Saturday. And then it's nothing but nine straight days surf, sand, Corona Lights on the porch, and good ol' fashioned family fun in my favorite place in the world.
So yeah, I've been in a GREAT mood this week and I think people are getting suspicious.
I'm coming off a great weekend of beach time and friends and good food and lawn games and fire pits and live music at the Newport Folk Fest. And then BLAM-O as soon as I get my bearings again it's shore time, baby!
And if you couldn't tell, I'm totally phoning this post in today. I might as well be drunk right now. I might be, in fact. I don't have anything even slightly intelligent or snarky or entertaining to contribute to the greater internet community right now. I just want go down the shore, as we Philadelphians say. No, first I want to eat this bag of almonds and spend half my day looking up funny gifs on the internet and THEN I want to go to down the shore. Okay, no, just playin' I just want to go to down the shore. I can eat the almonds on the way.
And anyway, writing blerg posts right now is just obnoxious because my home internet is currently about as slow as AOL dial-up in 1999, which is about as annoying as when your unborn baby friended me on Facebook. In other words, if I don't get instant access to absolutely everything I want, I just want to throw my machine against a wall and go back to writing "letters" with "pens." And also drive over to your house, knock on your door, and punch you in the vagina because you are too stupid to use that thing if you are writing on people's walls as your yet-to-be birthed offspring. IDIOTS.
Speaking of pens, I had a friend become a bit disgruntled when she couldn't find a pencil in my house to do the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle this weekend. Pencils? We don't keep pencils in our house. We don't make mistakes. You need a pencil for the Sunday crossword? What are you dumb or something? Just kidding. I only keeps pens in the house because you can't use a pencil to draw penises on your husband's face when he's sleeping.
Speaking of drawing on bodies, this weekend at the Folk Fest I saw two very young children (or what I refer to as "Festival Babies") walking around with their parents' cell phone number Sharpied across their backs. GENIUS. Now I'm certainly not encouraging you to scrawl your contact information across your Festival Babies and set them loose into a crowd of hippies, but that was a DAMN good idea, just in case they ever got accidentally separated. Like if dad stopped to buy a lemonade or maybe a new bowl from the guy selling pot paraphernalia out of a briefcase and for the three seconds that he had to let go of his kid's hand to pull out his wallet his kid wanders off as kids are wont to do. No worries, it'll probably only take a minute or two for some other concert goer to see said Festival Baby alone, pull out a cell phone and call up dad to be all "hey, found your Festival Baby." Anyway, it's certainly way more humane than keeping your kid on a leash.
Speaking of blog posts that have no structure and make no sense, I swear I'm not really drunk right now, I'm just hungry which usually has the same effect on my body. I get a bit punchy, sometimes I'm giggly, sometimes I'm rageful, usually my thoughts don't make sense, and almost all the time I end up on my back on the kitchen floor in my underwear eating burnt popcorn.