I destroyed my body, mind, and spirit this weekend with sangria and the 100 foot slip and slide we built. I have one million scratches and scrapes. I look like I got into a fight with an alley cat and lost. The grass burns I have are so intensely painful. I feel like I’ve been ambushed by one thousand jellyfish. My skin is stinging so badly. I spent six or more hours on Sunday in the sun and did not apply a single drop of sunblock. I am severely sunburned. The burn coupled with the grass cuts are a real winning combination. I need a morphine drip.
As usual, the slip and slide battered my body and caused an unreasonable amount of bruising. My hip bones, elbows, ribs, and my left knee are swollen tender wounds. My muscles are in a bad way. I feel like I’ve been brutalized with a meat tenderizer. My core, triceps, and ribs feel like they participated in a P90X marathon of some kind that lasted for days. I’m so sore. I feel like I got hit by a bus.
It was a great time.
Returning to the Midwest never loses its novelty. After spending a considerable amount of time in the eastern part of the country which is filled with wretched, grumpy, idiot people, coming back to Iowa is like being greeted by a million family members. Everyone is so nice, even strangers. Ahh, Iowa.
Iowa visits always mean countless consecutive nights of destroying my liver. I’m rather exhausted from the three day bender I just had. It will take a few days to recuperate.
Trent and I packed our bags and departed toward Kansas City for our 5 o’clock flight, only to arrive to discover that our flight had been cancelled. I would have known this had my cell phone remained alive so that Delta could contact me and let me know I had one more night to binge drink with my homies before heading back east. Unfortunately my Blackberry had a stroke and flatlined about 45 minutes outside of Council Bluffs, and we did not get this important notification about our flight cancellation, so we showed up at MCI ready to get onto our plane and were told we couldn’t fly to Pittsburgh until the next morning. Delta Airlines graciously comped us a hotel room at the Four Points Sheraton for the night. We were without wheels, so we were stuck in the hotel all evening, but there’s no better time to be stuck in a hotel room than Shark Week, am I right?
Trent and I ended up cabbing it to the nearest Verizon store that afternoon and getting ourselves new smart phones. We entered the store intending on getting two iPhone4’s, but I got sold on the Droid X2 by the crafty salesman. It’s true though. The Droid does everything the iPhone does, except faster, and more for free. iPhone is just so freaking branded, people feel like anything else is a knock-off. Apple is really blunt about it, too. “If you don’t have an iPhone, well….you just don’t have an iPhone.” Right. The name makes all the difference. Functionality has nothing to do with it. Let’s not forget that Google is not exactly the Wal-Mart to Versace.
Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Apple stuff, as I am a Macbook user myself. However, the Droid X2 has a duo-core processor so it is much faster, takes better photos and HD video, the phone is basically a flash drive that I can plug into my computer and drag and drop files into, almost any phone charger works for it, and pretty much every application I could ever want out there is free of charge. Mama likey.
Effective starting now, Words With Friends will consume my entire life. I will stay up at night with red, glazed over eyes, glaring into my phone screen rearranging letters to hit the triple word score, biting my nails and welcoming the dawn with my addiction. It’s going to get intense. I become unnecessarily competitive with word games. They’re one of the only things I’m good at. On that note, if you wish to be made to look like a fool, I would love to engage in a violent round of Words With Friends with you if you do not have an archaic phone. My username is just Becca Switzer (super clever and all that). Bring it on!
Well, that’s all for now. It’s time for me to go consume delectable alcoholic edibles from my dear neighbor Bob. The man likes to bake, and I like to eat baked goods. It’s a good relationship.
Pie. I mean bye.
“How many cups do you need?”