Monday, Jul. 05, 2004 - 10:19 a.m.
Oh, hello, bottom of the pool. Have you met Evaís face? Oh, yes, I see that you have. Whatís that, now? No, youíve already met Ė you donít need to meet again. Itís too late, though, I see.
Yes, I hit my face on the bottom of the pool not once but twice in celebration of this great country. Iíve been learning to dive at Lís house, so when we went to M&Dís yesterday for a party, I was excited to try out the diving board. On my third dive, I managed to skid along the bottom of the pool with my chin. It hurt, so I packed it in for a while and focused on getting drunk. This led, of course, to a renewed desire to work on my diving. This time it was my nose that made contact with the bottom of the pool.
Itís not as though the pool was that shallow; Iím just a graceless idiot.
So today I have pink abrasions on my face, black circles under my eyes, a swollen nose, and a killer headache. Neosporin and ibuprofen help a great deal, but I still look as though Iíve, um, fallen down the stairs. I figure if I stand up as straight as possible and smile confidently, I can avoid being handed too much literature on domestic violence.
I did other stupid things in honor of the Fourth. For instance, even though I carefully avoided watching ďIndependence DayĒ when it came out, for some reason I could not go to bed last night until I had seen every predictable moment of its Fox showing, including the15-minute stretches of advertising. Biggest big-penis moment? When the US president pilots one of the planes sent to bomb the aliens. Good god. I should have been smart like L and gone to bed.