Blueberry-scented hangover

Last night was day 4 in the battle of insomnia. By 2 am I fully intended to fall asleep, or to at least *try.* I wish the thunderstorm we had had lasted longer. It was awesome, I sat by the balcony window and just watched the lightning. Cliched, I know, but it was relaxing. Everytime the lightning flashed, I got a flashbulb glimpse of everything out in the darkness, even the raindrops on the way down.

But enough waxing poetic about nature. Although I may again if I manage to get out to the apartment complex's pool tomorrow (nothing like sharing a pool with a couple hundred other people, but it's usually pretty quiet there.) Last summer it seemed like every time I went something funny happened. Once I had to play toy lifeguard when a little boy threw his action figure (my brother would yell at me if I said "doll") in to the pool and the Actual lifeguard was too busy filing her nails. Another time I was relaxing with a book and overheard the two teenage girl lifeguards talking about how they "So totally should open a salon/pool. Where you could like get your hair done and go swimming." There's only a couple *giant* problems there:

1) Electricity + Bodies of water= Dead Bodies. Bad for business.
2) Most women, after paying anywhere from 20 to 200 dollars to get their hair done, are not going to immediately want to dive in a pool.

Was I like that at 16 or 17? I don't think so, but I do know I was a champion eye-roller and I could keep the silent treatment going like a pissed off married woman. Speaking of being 16, however... I got a call today from my dad (in the midst of a very big series of July 4th weekend farm parties) and he tossed the phone off to someone who wanted to talk to me. Turned out it was one of my old best friends. We hadn't spoken in about a year or so. She moved and I had no number to contact her.

When we were 16, her parents went away for a weekend and told her she could have me over. I brought my bag to her house , and then we decided to do what any good 16 year-old with no adult supervision would do-- call other people and try to have a party. We ended up getting another good friend of hers over, with her boyfriend. To shorten a story that undoubtedly only I find really amusing-- that night I had my first beer, first cigarette, tried weed (only felt foolish,) played my first drinking game and watched my first porno (felt VERY foolish.) We crashed out after I ate a giant bag of doritos, and couldn't figure out why I was so hungry, at about 3 am. I had to leave just before 7, because she had to be somewhere. I walked back home, feeling like I'd been pulled through a knothole backwards and probably smelling like the inside of a Brooklyn trashcan. My house was full of visiting family, so the only place I could sleep was over the arms of a recliner. I looked at the clock before I passed out and it was 7:06, at 7:14...8 minutes later...my dad woke me up (my first thought was "Crap! I should have brushed my teeth!") He brightly told me that he was awake and that we should go Blueberry Picking. He dragged me around that blueberry patch for an hour, carrying 5 pound flats of berries. My foot slipped out of my sandal once and my poor bare toes smushed in a mound of rotten blueberries, and I think short of a few nights in college...I've never felt so strong an urge to puke.

To this day, I think my dad did it on purpose.