If you are confused, I am "air guitar-ing" my leg (which was a contractual requirement of the 3 dollar pants I bought for this grand occasion).
When my friend Lauren (the jerk on the bottom left) decided that living in Hawaii was better than staying in Arizona, first we agreed, and then we did something one step classier than a bachelorette party in a stretch hummer wearing penis hats...some of our friends cornered the turbo-dork mom market by dressing up in cheap leopard print and sequence and playing low-stakes trampoline dodgeball (inadvertently with a bunch of sweaty teenage boys). It was wholesome and memorable and wasn't pathetically centered around cheesecake, like most of our outings are. Notice how most of us unknowingly flashed "I love you" signs whilst attempting to look hard core? We are so "hip".
The good thing about being a group of 30ish year olds in a place like that is that even when you get blasted in the face with a dodgeball and smear your pink lightning-bolt face paint, you can hold your head high knowing you looked like just as big of an idiot before it happened anyway...and that was by choice. Even in that unyielding flourencent light, we hid behind our mob mentality and jumped our out-of-shape faces off. Like a bunch of middle aged ladies at a Neil Diamond concert who forgot they couldn't still rock the high waisted pants of their glory days; all 9 of us piled into one car, shamelessly used coupons at the door and tried our best to not pee our pants all the way.
Most of us still haven't forgiven Lauren for leaving, and a few of us still haven't physically recovered from that much uncoordinated exertion in one night (eghem...kami).
The scars may run deep, but we'll always have dodgeball.
Mahalo!
team Boo ♥'s you
