Monday, Jul. 05, 2004 - 10:19 a.m.
Oh, hello, bottom of the pool. Have you met Eva’s face? Oh, yes, I see that you have. What’s that, now? No, you’ve already met – you don’t need to meet again. It’s 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. I’ve been learning to dive at L’s house, so when we went to M&D’s 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.
It’s not as though the pool was that shallow; I’m 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 I’ve, 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 “Independence Day” 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.