Monday, February 19, 2007
Everyone kept saying “there’s 600 kids on board next week” with a sense of dread in their voice. Now I know what they mean—the place is crawling with kids, especially teens, who spread out on all the stairways, and glare at you from their cast-down eyes.

Last night, Carly, Darryl, Homer and I were playing Hoopla, a new game in the game room, and a girl came in who was DRUNK!

Some of the teen girls are dressed way cuter then I am. Well, actually, most of them are.

There’s a hot dad or 2 on board, too.

I don’t mind kids—I have a ton of niece/nephews who amuse me to no end. But, like a lot of the crew, I’ve picked up the mantle of “Get me the f out of here, they have invaded our home.” So, I type away in the internet room, a haven from the screaming.

I just heard two ladies debating about a mutual acquaintance.

“She’s from Belgium, but is living in Australia.”

No, she’s not from Belgium, she lives in Belgium.

No, she’s Australian, but lives in Belgium.

I don’t think they resolved it.

Kids at raffles with their dad…

“Hey, you guys went to go to the gym?”

Girl 1—no, I don’t want to go.

Girl 2—I do! I’ll go.

Girl 1—oh yeah, I mean, I’ll go. To play volleyball.

Dad—ok, let’s go.

Mom—(in thick Jersey accent)---you are not going to the gym. You are not going.