I found out something beautiful at 7:00 am this morning.
On the bright sunny green in the clean air surrounded by friends and family, I decided that I absolutely hate golf.
I hate polos, I hate tight shorts, I hate the fakey grass, and that some lazycuss decided it would be a good idea to invent a sport with zero running in it.
I should have just been hacking at the ground with a pickaxe, because I was definitely uprooting more grass than making contact with the ball. My sister also pegged her golf ball at me three times, such that I could hear it as it passed by my head.
Carlo told me to hold back my inner Tarzan (and at a different time my inner gorilla) and to hit the ball like a lady. He said a lot of the following:
We had fun.
But we didn't eat until 11, which means breakfast and lunch were consumed at the same time.
Which was ok because we made egg and sausage breakfast burritos with tomato green pepper cheese and red onion - pressed for classiness in the panini maker, and candy bacon. There was also some lemon coconut pie made with lard that I don't know anything about except that a lot of it is running through my veins.
Emily and I also might have snarfed a donut at not so Safeway. Best donut I've ever had, but not worth it because it really didn't taste that great. I hope you understand me when I say that.