I love the beach. When my mind has time to actually wander, two out of three times it somehow makes it to the sandy shores of the Pacific or Caribbean. I think I love the ocean, too. But once, I went deep sea fishing off the Oregon Coast and might have maybe caught a jellyfish for the most part, but I vomited on it right when I’d reeled it up to the surface, then spent the rest of the eight-hour journey silently spilling the contents of my stomach over the side of the boat. I was way annoyed about this; I’d taken dramamine the night before and again that morning before my father and I embarked on this adventure. He watched the whole thing happen from almost the other side of the boat. He’d caught a bass and wanted to show me but stopped short when he saw what was happening. The whole thing was forced on us by my mother who thought we needed a bonding experience. Nothing keeps a sympathetic puker at bay like throwing up. Admittedly, I lied to her and said, “Mission accomplished.” before walking off, pretending not to be super pissed at her after I was back on solid ground.
Have you seen that unfortunate Goosebumps movie yet? I believe it’s at the Redbox now and it’s Friday night and there’s no time like the present. It seems that Jack Black either had a vision for this film that wasn’t met or he’s broke and needs the money. I suppose his standards could be slipping, too. The premise of the film is that a man-child and his mother move to a new town where his expectation is that life is going to suck. While moving into his new home, he’s greeted by the girl next door. It becomes clear during their brief chat that this teen will become his girlfriend at some point near the end of the film.
“Hannah, get away from the window. Now!”
The automatic doors parted. In pace, I stepped through and grabbed the handles of a red plastic basket. I ambled around aisles of cleaning supplies, frozen pizzas and bottled water, without a list of what I actually needed- a dangerous way to shop.