She’s the first one to go.
Of the 2o-somethings in our group of friends, Sara is the first one of us to cross the threshold of a new decade. My milestone comes later this year. Whereas Sara celebrated her 30th in Brooklyn at a small bar called Good Company, I think I’d prefer a more natural surrounding.
After many months of thought, I’ve decided that I would most like to spend my next birthday in the Redwood National Forest or at Yosemite National Park. When I was a kid, I had a tremendous fascination with the natural world, an awe that’s followed me into adulthood. It makes perfect sense.
But this post isn’t about my birthday (it kinda is), it’s about Sara… and a creepy bus in the courtyard of that bar. Valerie actually said that she wants to get married on it. Let this post stand as the living proof of that statement.
Bean bag toss at Good Company. Photo credit: Shannon McGarvey
Spring in New York – the sunshine, the crisp air, the wide eyes peeking out from winter burrows – need I say more?
In comparison to last year’s blizzard, the past few months have been a cakewalk. Heck, New York hasn’t even had any substantial snowfall and it’s supposed to be 65 on Thursday!
Even though I’ll be locked inside an office…I’m still super stoked!
It’s been two years and I haven’t bowled with the Bohls once. That is, until Saturday.
There’s something you’ve gotta understand about Adam and Sara Bohl – they love to bowl. Sure, it sounds like a joke but it’s totally true! These Indiana siblings are straight out of an episode of Roseanne and they’ve got the flannel to prove it, too. They’ve also got the bowling scores. I, unfortunately, do not.
I walked away from Gutter with a measly score of 84. Total fail.
Shannon and Sara outside of Gutter Bowl
- My haunted bowling shoes.
- Sara bowling.
Adam glowing red.
Notice the sweat accumulate as Carter toils over ‘Sweet Emotion.’
It has been said that only your true friends will help you move for free. I think this adage applies to the painting of one’s Bushwick apartment, as well.
Valerie and I did just that over the course of two days this past weekend. It was like Hurricane Irene all over again!
The fun started at my house on Friday night and then moved to Valerie’s on Saturday and Sunday. By the end of it all – Whitney Houston’s funeral, two rooms and all that crown molding – we were nasty.
Let’s just say we could’ve fried some chicken with the grease off our heads. It was gross, ya’ll.
Let the games begin!
My knuckles, swollen like a blow fish.