Katy Perry's "Extraterrestrial" is really growing on me. I really hate this.

So this weekend was crazy. Yesterday Schroeder, Sally, Sally's boyfriend and myself pretty much just drank around the pool/around the fire. It was awesome. The only thing that can sum this day up was this conversation.

(After Schroeder buys 18 beers, and I buy 12 Saturday afternoon)

Sunday morning:
Me: There are three of your beers left?
Schroeder: Yeah, and there are three of yours left too.
Me: That's it?
Schroeder: Yeah.
Me:....good day.

So today for father's day, my dad decided he wanted to go to Duxbury beach. I said that I would go but then I realized that I would instantly regret it because my dad is a Godawful driver. He is like a blind man attempting to drive. He doesn't stay on his side of the road, he doesn't know what brakes are, and he cuts people off like it's his job. I swear to you, we almost died at least 5 times. He's the kind of guy that asks the passenger "am I good that way?" and the passenger says "no you have a car coming," and then he decides to go anyway. Oh, and he goes through red lights.

But we made it there safely and I may or may not have kissed the ground when we got there.

So yesterday my aunt brought over sparklers, and my sister Sally took one and lit it. She was playing around with it and of course, dancing. She got so into making little designs with the sparkling end, that she flung it a little too hard and the lit end went straight into the grass. I feel like things like this can only happen to her, like the time a few weeks ago where she randomly fell over in a parking lot, skinning her hands and knees. When she was demonstrating her fall to me, not only did it NOT look like she just simply fell, but it looked like she fell over the handlebars of a bike. She was demonstrating and said "and then my chin hit the ground..." and I was like "your CHIN?! Where the hell were your hands?!" because when normal people fall, they put their hands out. Unless your name is Sally or Adam Mcquaid.

Anywhores. Speaking of hockey, my mom watched the end of the Stanley Cup game with us and when it was announced that they had pulled their goalie, my mom was instantly full of questions.

"Wait! So they have no goalie in their net right now!?"
"Why do they do that!? So they have one extra skater, right?"
"Does that ever work?!"

After a while, it was revealed that my mom in fact thought that the goalie was the one to go out and skate with them. She thought that instead of skating to the bench, HE himself went out and played with the other guys. Now, I don't want to be mean, but I had never heard of an idea so ludicrous. But when I pictured it, it's actually very comical. Can you just imagine the goalie like "Hey guys, sorry I'm not as fast as you are, and sorry my padding weighs me down, and sorry that I can't really score or pass that good, but....I'm here to HELP!"

Oh, mom. You and your hockey knowledge.

Anyway. I just thought it should be known that when we were all hanging out outside last night, Sally announces that she is going inside to take a shower. After we realized that none of the bathroom lights were on, apparently she secretly went to bed. Leaving her own boyfriend with Schroeder and I. I don't know what goes on in Sally's head, I really don't. All I know is that her mind probably resembles a retarded person's: Very confusing, but not a whole lot.

-Jenny