Today was the initially terrifying Memorial Day boat party with my boss and the new Spidell manager guy (who took the place of Horrible Rod, whose tenure came to a satisfyingly bad end ... mmm schadenfreude). It turned out to be not terribly terrifying at all, although I am really a nervous nellie who can make everyone within ten feet of me uncomfortable when I'm on a roll. But that is not the point of my tale. We took the boat out through the Huntington Beach marina, under PCH, and zipped over to Long Beach, where we moored (public parking for boats, who'd have guessed?) by Shoreline Village and had lunch, and that was all nice, but on the way back, Lynn said I should come and sit on the prow of the boat with her. I was game, so we took our Coronas up to the front, settled upon some sit-upons, and looped some extra rope around our ankles ("just in case," said Lynn). And then we took off out to sea, at about the speed of sound. Zoom!

Dude. That boat was smacking the waves so hard, I thought for sure we'd be thrown off into the ocean. Lynn's boyfriend is a little deaf, so she kept shouting for him to slow down, and he'd smile and wave. At one point, the boat dipped so suddenly Lynn and I both went flying, and when we landed we dropped our beers, and scrambled all over the prow trying to catch the bottles without dying. We were both soaked in beer, and laughing so hard I thought we'd choke. Lynn looked like she'd peed her pants. It was pretty awesome.

And I got a small sunburn. Happy Memorial Day.