Charleston

I went to Charleston for the 4th of July weekend with my roomies. We spent most of the time at Folly Beach, drinking beer and playing in the water. I hadn't been to/peed in the ocean in many moons. The water was warm (on its own, thank you) and the waves were pretty good for boogie boarding and for losing my top, which I did a lot, but thankfully underwater.

A week or so before we went, Amy and I had a talk about jellyfish and what we would do if the other got stung. We made an agreement to pee on each other, out of friendship, like on Friends when Chandler peed on Monica. Totally normal! So Friday at the beach, what happened? Amy was stung by a jellyfish and I had to pee on her arm. It was in the water, though, because we couldn't find any privacy on the beach, but she claimed it still worked. I probably could've just poured a PBR on her arm and it would've been the same thing, only probably less alcohol.

Saturday night we went to the fireworks show at Patriots Point, which is supposedly the 5th best fireworks in the country. They were set to a medley of songs that had the words "USA" or "American" in them. I think they were all by Toby Keith, plus "I'm Proud to Be An American," which Toby Keith probably wishes he wrote.

I like Charleston. We didn't spend a ton of time in the city, but I still got the feeling of Charleston, of the old south. I love the sultry-ness, I love the columns and the three-story porches, I love the looming Atlantic and the history. It's not like anything you'd find in Michigan or Illinois, and I like that.