april pools

This is the story.

Of a man named Brady.

Well, not really. It’s more about a pool. In fact, I don’t think I know anyone named Brady. I did once, but technically we didn’t “know know” each other. I think his mom knew my mom for some reason or other, and at some point the name got tossed out and I heard it. Of course, at that point, he wasn’t in what most people would consider “man” stage yet. He was maybe two years older than me. But even that is irrelevant, considering that the original man named Brady was actually named Mike. Brady was his last name, not his first. I can’t say that I’ve ever known anyone with the last name Brady. That’s not to say that there aren’t stories about men named Brady, or men with the last name Brady, or even just men. But the story that I’m telling today has nothing to do with any of those things.

Okay, I suppose that technically, some men are involved in the story. But certainly no Bradys of either variety.

Ubermegatrip

You have to understand, there’s no way in the world that I could type everything important that happened over the last two weeks. Life moves too fast for blogs. That’s probably why I quit in the first (and second and third and maybe fourth) place.

That being said, it’s summary time.

Bright and Early

7:30am.

Now, I understand that for some of you, this is a normal occurrence. But for the rest of us, it’s a bit iffy.

Pre-Assisi

We take off on the bus tomorrow morning at 8am, so of course, I’m still awake at 11:39pm, and don’t necessarily plan on heading to bed particularly soon.

Whatevah.