Here I am in sunny, beautiful California. I’m perched on a barstool, working on Kevin’s parents’ computer. Tess is busily microwaving vegetarian sausage. She is bravely wearing a sun dress. Kevin’s mother just bustled through the door with their golden retriever, Penny. Kevin is leaning over the counter reading a Time magazine. Laura and Breck have disappeared somewhere. He, probably to make a phone call, she to probably do some homework. James has covertly begun feeding the dog from the breakfast table.
It’s been rather lovely so far. We drove down in about ten hours, in two cars. There was a Boy Car and a Girl Car, and we had walky talkies to communicate between the two. We all adopted covert spy nicknames for walky talky usage.
“Hammerfall, This is Niiinjabadger, requesting permission to roll out.”
“Ninjabadger, this is Professor Ultimate, standing in for Hammerfall. Is Alpha Driver prepped for takeoff?”
“This is Ninjabadger. Roger doger, Professor Ultimate, we are affirmative for…uh…driving.”
“Professor Ultimate, this is Bunny Bomb, requesting permission to pull over and pee.”
“Acknowledged, Bunny Bomb. Pulling over.”
It was a pretty entertaining drive.
The city we’re in is called Chico, although saying “in the city” is somewhat of an exaggeration. Kevin owns a large, beautiful house out in the country, complete with cats. Four cats, Rudy, Sunny, Mom, and Abby. Abby is by far the most entertaining of these. She is about eighteen years old, and mostly deaf. She sleeps most of the time, and spends the rest of her day wandering around in a bland confusion, leaping up onto somebody’s lap and communicating in an old-lady-cat yowl. “Minnie and I used to go DANCING on SATURDAYS! We wore hats back then. Nobody wears HATS anymore!”
Kevin just tried to get her to play with a fluffy soccer ball. Abby stared at him in vague, irritated senility.
Thus far we have..oh, gosh, let me think…we spent an afternoon on Table Mountain, running around with Kevin’s dog, flying kites, and trying to prevent aforementioned dog from rolling in cow shit.
We failed at that.
We went minigolfing (I lost) and bowling (I lost), and have spent most of the rest of our time playing a game called Nertz.
Nertz, put simply, is competetive solitaire. With speed. And swearing. And elbowing your so-called best friends in the eye when they steal your GODDAMN ACE OF CLUBS when you had that two READY GODDAMMIT. It’s a game that Brittney taught me, and someday, maybe I’ll teach you all, if Brittney doesn’t get there first.
(psst get there first, Brittney)
And now, I’m going to go do homework, since today is our scheduled Homework Day which is utter crap, professors, because it is SPRING BREAK, thank you very much. Sorry for the scattered-ness of this post, but I won’t have any time/room for editing. Also, the internet here is in demand by other persons with possibly more legitimate uses. I will be back on Friday with another post, after which I’ll be heading up Seattle for a day to get my hair did at a fancy sa-lon with Tess and Laura. I’ll post some before and after photos, and you can experience the terror of my ugly mug live on your internet screen.