Venti Iced Americano + white mocha + extra ice

I will describe my eyes and then begin the story. My eyes are green and resplendent. Now I will begin the story.

DISCLAIMER: I did not mean to give Matt Smola all of the credit for the apt212 blog. I simply did this because a) I have not had the pleasure of attending green beer day in Oxford, Ohio and meeting the apt like Molly. b) I didn’t want to be creepy and reference things like “I totally loved the post that the Econ final was finally over and I actually love maps too!” and lastly, c) the only clear memory I have of Matt Smola is him singing opera in the box during a soccer game (Elyria Parks & Recreation, my Dad was the coach. It got pretty competitive, but I’m sure you could imagine) waiting to play. Opera. We must have been 7 or 8 years old! Talk about advanced!! But anyways, when we go out for drinks tonight the first toast will go to the apt212: for making me wonder how many doubles Carmen Sandiego has, because no secret agent of that caliber is that stupid to be spotted so often.

I wish they made bumper stickers that say “I’d rather be blogging.” When I think about our most recent adventure, my blogging material exponentially grew. So I’d like to describe two short situations that are worth mentioning:

1. I hit on a 75 year old man. I know everyone says that the island makes you do crazy things, but looking back I don’t really know what I was thinking. I mean yes, I was at this point what this generation calls “tipsy,” but when I’m explaining to Jack (let’s just call him Jack for descriptive purposes) that I’m a biology major and I think it’s great he’s a farmer, I don’t know why I didn’t walk away. He has two kids, 34 and 29 respectively, and came to the island with a guy that got too drunk–and Jack didn’t really care that they were separated. Now this is red flag #1: why would I want a man that didn’t care where his friends dipped off to? This leads me to red flag #2: why were my friends missing enough that I had to opportunity to spit game at a man old enough to be my GRANDFATHER? We talked for a while though, he offered to get me a drink but I kindly said “No thank you, today was pay day and I’m more than capable of purchasing my own drinks.” I think I told everyone I met it was pay day. That’s not really a great conversation starter; people just looked at me with a blank look and then I would laugh far too loudly for there to be no joke.

2. Pat, Shawn, Danny, Molly, and regretfully myself all did one of the most pathetic walks of shame known to mankind. Granted, this was not little-black-dress-and-sexy-high-heels style, but we were clearly lost on a small island where people pointed (LITERALLY) and laughed at us. After sleeping on a damp floor and snoring rather loudly (or so I was told) I didn’t know how unfortunate our circumstances were going to become. Our island connection’s cell phone was turned off, we did not have a car, we did not have our pride, nor did we have a good sense of direction between the five of us. But luckily we had Pat and his awesome attitude to get us through those trying times. If I were the golf cart rental place, I would not have let myself rent a cart. Which by the way, you assholes still owe me $6 for that. But luckily we made it to the condo or whatever it was, and ate and laughed and sat in the sunshine. (I loved breakfast)

Well, that’s it for now. I’m going to take a shower because my feet are black, because whatever bar thinks having a bubble machine positioned over the dance floor is a fool. Bubbles pop, which then leaves a soapy residue. Mix that residue with split beer and you have a slip in slide for adults! Winning the falling over competition: MOLLY! SHE FELL ON HER OWN ONCE AND THEN WAS POWERBOMBED BY SHAWN! Second place: ME PULLING PAT DOWN WITH ME. If I have to fall, I’m taking Pat down too. I leave you with a quote from Jonathan Safran Foer, an author that describes beauty in a way that it deserves.

Ride slow, homies

“I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can’t tell fast enough, the ears that aren’t big enough, the eyes that can’t take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.” -Jonathan Safran Foer


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