This weekend Elle came to visit and we had a lot of fun with a lot of beer. Friday night she was supposed to show up and we were going to hit the town. Instead, she came to my door, dressed up and ready to party and we took one look at each other and smiled. This is why we’re such good friends. With one look, no words, we drove out to the local liquor store and picked up a bunch of alcohol, drove back to my place and spent the night catching up. She revealed a bunch of stuff about her move out, which I’ll update about later. We ended up crashing on my living room floor, drunk. I opened my eyes to see Elle about ten feet away, shivering under my window and Sam the Cat’s face less than 6 inches away from mine, staring at me.

Saturday we took a little trip to the beach, sitting for three hours outside of a local brewery, drinking beer samplers and knocking back drafts. After consuming more beer than I thought I ever could, we waddled two blocks to the shore and met up with TweedleSweet. She was walking her dog Milo, the sweetest, nicest little dog. Only TweedleSweet could make an overweight Chihuahua look cool. We walked the beach for over an hour, completely wasted, which explains how we got stuck. Normally, sober me would have known to be vigilant, but drunk me is an idiot.

At one area of the beach, the cliffs jut forward toward the water. During low tide the water recedes, the sand is exposed and you can pass right by them. During high tide, the water comes in really deep and there’s a strong undertow pulling out to open sea. It’s dangerous to cross during high tide and the only way back to civilization is walking through marshland. When we crossed, the tide was low and the water far out, but since we walked so far (so very far!), when we returned we found the water was just reaching the cliffs – we needed to cross immediately or risk it being too late. We decided to try to run through it, rather than going through the dark, mosquito infested marshland.

At first it wasn’t so bad. I threw my phone into my purse and started wading. Quickly the water surged, making it from our knees to our waists in record time. Too bad we were wearing clothing rather than just bathing suits. TweedleSweet gingerly held Milo above the crashing waves, on his own the fat little guy would probably drown or get crushed against the cliffs. I held my purse above my head, guarding my gorgeous new SmartPhone, I really didn’t want to ruin it after less than a month. Suddenly, the sand beneath my feet gave away and I fell into a small crevice, the water reaching my chest. I shrieked (a totally natural response to almost losing your purse in the ocean) and started treading water. TweedleSweet and Elle cried out, telling me to let go of my purse. Fuck that.

TweedleSweet started holding Milo up higher and we raced to make it to the other side. For one brief moment TweedleSweet slipped, dropping Milo. I reached out one hand (the other was clutching my purse) and Elle did the same. We managed to hold him long enough for TweedleSweet to regain her footing. Eventually, our feet found dry sand and we looked down at our soaked and sand covered clothing. This was going to be awkward at our fancy dinner later that evening, plus we’d lost our buzz!

We had a delicious night out at an Italian place with a large group, then Elle and I trudged back to Hometown still damp, tired and sunburned. I think the water damaged my new purse, but at least my phone is safe.

How many different types (pints, samplers and bottles) of beer consumed over the weekend? 9

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