Duck Beach. Or, as I like to call it: "Find a Mate '08"
I did it. No, I didn't get a mate. I just did Duck. In fact, you will notice in the pictures that I will shortly post, that none of the group I was with was able to find a mate (no, just because it's five guys and two girls doesn't mean we're polygamists. That whole multiple wives thing --despite what people think-- doesn't really fly in the Mormon church). I guess we're off to a bit of a late start. It's almost halfway through the year. Get crackin' fellows.
Friday night after work Valerie and I drove down with a random guy we met on the listserv. He was extremely nice, but there were two problems. Namely:
A. Airconditioning was a no-go. It was 75 degrees that day. So, I was faced with two options: sweaty Rachel or wind-blown Rachel. Apparently I wasn't satisfied with either of the two evils, so I opted for both: temporary breathable air making my hair a huge rats nest, followed by unbreathable air, slightly better hair, and a sweat-glistening forehead.
B. We listened to the same REM CD for about 5 hours stright. Gave a me a whole new view on "it's the end of the world as we know it." Don't worry though, I felt fine.
Our house didn't open until Saturday afternoon so we camped in Kitty Hawk. Yes, that's right, Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. Thank you Wright brothers for giving that little village a spot on the map.
Camping was, um...fun. I slept on my beach towel. And, I'm also pretty sure that I slept on a cactus.
Then it rained all morning.
I was a wet, bug-bitten, cactus-backed dribble of a person that morning. Tom couldn't stop laughing. Thank you Tom. Glad you got to sleep in that nice tent with Destiny and some camping pads and warm sleeping bags. Good thing I was able to buy your friendship back with chocolate (Note: Tom will do almost anything for nice chocolate...).
Saturday day-time highlight: driving down the main drag in Kitty Hawk. Squeezed in between Destiny and Tom in the front of Tom's U of U-inspired truck. All three wearing aviators. All three singing at the top of our lungs to Celine Dion. Air guitar and dashboard drumming included. I guess it was just pratice for Sunday night's rock band extravaganza.
Saturday night-time highlight: leaving our house party just as the police showed up. Well done Destiny and Michael for thinking of hot tubbing across town rather than hang out with 400 "sweet bra's".
Sunday day-time highlight: the "sunday school lesson" taught by Preston to the six of us in my king-sized bed, followed by the card that everyone "signed." Blake even signed it from New Hampshire and Paul from back in D.C...wonder how that worked out???
Sunday night-time highlight: Rock band and cake. More specifically, getting sick from eating too much cake and cookie dough and then listening to Tom's rendition of "In Bloom" by Nirvana and watching Michael drum like his life depended on it. My vocal tolerance and my sugar tolerance will never be the same.
It was definitely the best birthday I've had in a long time. 22, sheesh. So old. (KIDDING). I am always embarassed to tell people how old I am because I am such a baby. I guess I shouldn't try to grow up too fast though. Life's pretty good right now and I'll be darned if I don't enjoy every second of it.