Sunday, July 22, 2012

Most Funnest Beach Week Friends Reunion, or Why Allison Was Very Nice Person In Former Life Since She Scored These Fabulous Friends And None Of Them Married Jerks, by Allison

So I am currently luxuriating in my most favoritest week of the year, my beach vacation with Matt and the girls, and my childhood friends, their significant others and children.

And somehow, we manage to balance on the head of a pin (Is that an expression? I think it is, and that it is pin not pen, but if not I invented it and am trademarking it) where these awesome friends from forever married awesome people and had awesome children, and I am not making this up.

No one is holding gun to my head, no one is withholding tasty mixed beverage until I write glowing things.
Is true.
We've been getting together for I am thinking 4 years? 5?

Will ask someone, but anyway, this fabulous group of friends from all my life somehow managed not to marry or birth any annoying people.

This is really not the typical thing.

You know, you catch up with a friend from school or college or work and their husband sucks?

Their wife is insane?

Their kids are setting bugs on fire?

This is not the case here.

No lie.

 And extra cool is that we stay in Miracle Expanding Super Cool Beach House (and I did promise myself not to reference Harry Potter for a while and plus I have allegiance with the sparkly vampires anyway, but is too good of an example not to use) is like Room of Requirements in Harry Potter, where whatever you need, whatever size, whatever thing, that thing happens in miracle room., or in our case, miracle house.

What is cool is, this is my parent's beach house, and they are so great to let us take it over for this awesome reunion every year
(Note: to parents or relatives or anyone, we are being super careful, no sharpies or markers or fire or insanity, remember, we are nerds)
so other than the fact that there are photo albums of me in middle school here and that is never a good thing, otherwise it is best, funnest, most well-stocked house that absorbs all of us (21 people? for real) and all of our needs, without us stopping liking each other.

So, miracle.

And there are kids of all ages and personalities that see each other pretty much once a year during Most Funnest Week, although we do try to catch up otherwise, but we are all over the country, and that makes it even more super fun and cool, and so far, so good, everybody gets the deal, which is:

NO ONE wants to be the lame one that ruins this for everybody, so be cool, have fun, no worries, be happy, whatever that song is that one of the people in this house did in fact play in his car during high school.

(Note: that car had a giant hole in the floorboard so you had to be careful not to put your feet down lest they drag on the ground similar to Fred Flintstone, and now I called out to him "Which side of the car had the rusted out floorboard?"
And he is all, "Driver's side."
And I am all, "No, that can't be right, I never drove your car, but I rode in it so it must have been passenger's side."
And he is all, "Yeah, probably that too.")

(Also note: this person does not remember car issue until prompting memory, even though it was his car, because somehow my one friend D and I are in charge of All Memories and the rest of them somehow remember nothing.)

(Also Also note: this means whatever I remember and recollect and/or invent from out of my crazy head becomes true, because nobody else can prove otherwise because they are all that Memento movie guy with the sharpie written on him because they can't remember anything. 

So my memory bank is like our personal IMDb, and this year, in which D and his seriously fantastic wife and kids can't be here
 (But note: there may or may not be a giant blow up photo of them accompanying us everywhere - shh, it is)
I am sole Mnemosyne, carrying the world's (actually the people in this house's) memories all on my own.
Which is fine, because I am both totally up for that and will also edit anything embarrassing to me. 

(Note: me calling out, "Hey guys, am I right about the mythology surrounding memory?" as I sit here typing and they are in fun room funning leads to Totally Both Funny And Nerdy Conversation on what exactly this myth did or did not do or represent.
So all brain cells are not being destroyed by RTB's concoctions. )

So I have been trying to write this thing, an activity that normally takes me a few minutes after my brain settles in on whatever nonsense it wants to ramble on about in poorly-structured sentences but is now taking me hours.

 But apparently?

 A giant house full of fun people plus delicious fake ice cream being served to you,
plus needing to organize Cinderella's spa treatments before her "first wedding" (Ha, and that a  3 year old said that, double ha)
and whatall,
I cannot even remember what I was trying to say.

But now I do remember!

Is this:
Do not ask your super fun smart friends to create their own nicknames or noms de plume for your silly blog, because they will shower you with absurdity the likes of which you cannot fathom.

One friend wants to be Versengetorix, which she cannot even spell and I just asked her to spell it and she can't, which is no surprise since she spells nickel "nickle", even though she got like extra A plus plus on the SATs and is crazy smart.

So no Versengetorix for her, even though that is awesome name and was a character in our French Four AP Practicum (otherwise known as ridiculous video we made in homage to Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, but in French, with French Bill and Ted (I was either Bill or Ted, I could never tell them apart other than one got famous and one did not, so let's say I am famous one) traveling in time to visit various French famous persons, and that is officially the nerdiest, dumbest, silliest, biggest waste of time and energy ever, officially, I declare it so) and the guy we made play Versengetorix had to wear a brown bathmat as a costume, kind of like Tarzan, and I have no idea why we did this and if that is appropriate or not, but because everybody here in this house is crazy smart and also fast on the phone, I am finding out that it is in fact a fairly decent fake outfit for Versengetorix, but still, that does not get to be her name.

She is LH. 
Already talked about her anyway during Most Bestest Cross Country Trip Magical Mystery Tour, so she did not have a hope of changing her fake name anyway.

And the fact that the rest of these people are also both smart and funny (and have jobs involving one or both of these things) they come up with totally NOT HAPPENING noms de plume like P.U. and other 13 year old boy things,
or very very long things I do not want to type,
or references to a guy from our school who got arrested for indecent exposure in the woods near our houses (near where I had to ride my tandem bike in Hated Parade but not at same time as Parade)
and none of that is going to happen and also am not sure why I asked them since I am not going to listen to them anyway, so that was just an exercise in "who will come up with the best and worst fake name that Allison will ignore anyway."

And now, the zillion children who miraculously fit into this House of Beach Week Requirements (again, thanks Mom and Dad!  And good call on the marshmallow stick roaster thingys!)
must sleep or be coated in aloe because, seriously, I dare you to show me how to keep a majillion kids non-sunburnt while oceaning and sanding and learning the benefits of wet sand as exfoliant (taught by Allison and M the 6 year old stylist).

Is impossible.

So time to goop (Note: but not GOOP, am not having Mario Bateli or Jay Z or Stella McCartney help with the aloe)
the kids and settle in for a good old fashioned night of Nerd Fun, involving board games and then, thanks to magical fabulous friend RTB (that is R, the boy, there are two R's here, and the other one is a girl, known as RTG, because I reject their fake name suggestions) is sneaky super extra great mixologist who makes best margaritas ever, from scratch, it does involve eleventy million limes.


Tangent:  I once got carded at the Food Lion down here for buying all the limes they had.
 No alcohol.
The girl was all, "I know what you are going to do with these limes!" or something, I am not making that up, I was carded for limes, and it was fantastic because now I get a story and also, what is the legal age for lime purchasing?

Spoiler!! The girl at the Food Lion currently carding you for said limes does not know.

Spoiler!!!! Because there is no such thing.

Lime Tangent over. RTB uses aforementioned limes and other stuff that is great and no fake mixey stuff, I will get ingredients from him later, but for now, am sharing RTB's Sword of the Giant, he did get to name it since I named him, so do not blame me for the possible Dungeon and Dragons term although another friend here, JF, has informed me giants do not do well in D and D world, which shows you the super deep onion-peel layer of NERD that is going on:
But drink:

RTB's Sword of the Giant:

2 parts fresh watermelon
2 parts fresh peach
2 parts white rum
1 part triple sec
1 part lime juice.

Blend, drink, it is fabulous, and shockingly secretly lethal, but like all RTB's magic drinks, you are still able to wake up and deal with the majillion children have another fun day.

He is wizard, or whatever the word is in whatever nerd imaginary game it is, plus also, RTB is an interesting hybrid of super smart, very mellow, extremely good trivia game player due to excellent skills of deduction the likes of which I have never ever seen, wicked barkeep, total savant of the ring toss game where you toss a ring onto a hook and nobody can ever get it ever but he does, and that sea turtle from Finding Nemo.

That mixed beverage is fantastic, and also great if you leave out the alcohol for whatever reason, shall share more of his wizardry after tonight. 

But now, I cannot resist the siren's lure (see, more mythology!! And that was all me, did not ask anyone)
of the fun going on in fun room, so I bid adieu because the stories are getting interesting and I better get in there and hear them, since I am the only one who will remember them anyway.