imagine: it’s summer. you’re barefoot and jumping on a trampoline (naked!). up, down. up, down. up, down. you inhale deeply, taking in the peacefulness of the rhythm: up, down. up, down.
suddenly, you hear footsteps. you look and see a portly, disheveled little girl undoubtedly wearing unbecoming denim overalls attempting to climb on the trampoline. after multiple grunts and mumbled profanities, she finally rolls on, exhausted. you’re annoyed at first but then get back in the rhythm of jumping…up, down. up, down. up, down.
now she’s jumping. up, down, up down. she is hopping closer and closer, maintaining eye contact and a maniacal smile the whole time. her weight is shifting; as she goes up, some things stay down and vice versa. up, down. up, up. down. now she’s right next to you. jumping, jumping, jumping and…up, down, up, down…down, down, dead. the b**** stole your bounce!
i’m the b****, the squatty one. with the shifty-weight and poor choice in denim.
i’m the bounce-stealer.
whenever someone has something really, really great happen to them, i metaphorically steal their bounce. i start living vicariously through them and get so uncomfortably excited that it leaves them bewildered, thinking: ‘why the heck is she so excited? and why does she have such poor taste in denim?’
i stole my roommate avery’s bounce. she works at a little surf store in provo-town (yes, a surf shop in landlocked utah) and yesterday they went on the news in salt lake! or something! i really don’t understand what she was doing but i do know that she had to model outfits on the LIVE TELEVISION! (or something…again, i really don’t know)
but anyways, behold the babe who went on LIVE TELEVISION! (i think i was meant to be a stage mom…but, really):and what were you wearing, you ask? ask no more! my uncanny ability to turn any precious-photo-capturing moment into a sexy-brooke-pose-exposé failed not! meeeeow: …up, down. up, down, down, down, dead.p.s. watch the LIVE TELEVISION show by clicking here.
p.p.s. HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILY! love you madly.