Yesterday half of our store got together on a tract of land with a pond across from Jessica's home in Wilmington. I had an enjoyable time, despite the pockets of drama rising and falling like the tides. I've never been a fan of drama, always thought it took too much effort. I'm the kind of guy to shrug my shoulders and walk away when the gossip fairies do their thing and when ridiculous conflict looms on the horizon (I almost wrote about how conflict is the iceberg and we unsuspecting folk are drawn straight into it [like the Titanic], and then I realized I just want to REALLY listen to the Titanic soundtrack [note: not Celine Dion, the actual instrumentals]). So, yes, there was some conflict, but I avoided it like the plague and didn't partake. Thus I was able to actually relax, breathe deeply, enjoy cigarettes and a romp in the pond with Jess, then a delicious dinner of hot dogs over the fire and then closing off the night with Abby's hookah and then going to bed in a cramped storage unit above the main bed in the trailer [note: didn't enjoy that too much; lower back's still throbbing in pain]. A friend of mine noted that she thought the whole thing was a failure, because she expected (or, rather, hoped) it would be a night full of laughter and fun and the absence of drama. I, however, knew that the store members aren't as close to one another as Carly, Jess and I are, and I knew that many of the drama-wranglers would be there to spread their metaphorical seed (and no, the metaphor isn't semen, this time). My aim was to just enjoy the night, have a few laughs, and relax. And as far as I'm concerned, mission accomplished. Behold: the beauty of having low expectations (which, sometimes, just leads to guilt and shame; more on that another time)! Here's a picture of Jess at 8 AM following an awful night's sleep and me waking her up way too early (per her request); she's something else:
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