My name is Abbie, but I'm usually Abs, Abacus, or Sunshine to my friends. Most of you probably know Sally from school, so you may know each other. I met Sally at band camp, so I'm a stranger. Now, I'm sure that your parents are all very good and very smart people, and have prompted you many times not to talk to strangers. However I won't kidnap you and would love to hear from you on my blog, at http://myimageabacus.blogspot.com/ . And if you are interested, I thought I'd let you know that I post chapters to the stories that I am writing instead of about my life, because its too crazy to get on the page. Of course, now I feel like one of those stupid self advertising people, so I am going to change the subject...
Have you ever had one of those days when you can really, truly say that it was the best day ever? Not just a mildly good day, or a day where several events brought you pleasure. No, I mean one of those days that you see the beauty in everything, where everyone you love is happy, and when absolutely nothing has gone wrong. When you can look back and compare it to every other day, and it was perfect, for a very simplistic reason. Well, I am fortunate enough to have had two of those days in my life. And both of them were spent with the same person. This person is my good friend Delia, who is one of my three can't-go-a-day-without-contact besties.
The day started out like any other, but it was exceptionally hot. I was sitting lazily on the couch watching cartoons when she called. She asked if I wanted to go swimming, and of course the answer was yes. What could be better on a day like that than sinking into a pool with a good friend?
Although I regret doing so, I am now going to quote another of those three people, and admit that at times I am a bit of a Pansy. Being this "Pansy" I get cold really easily and needed to get out after about a half hour. We then put our towels out on the driveway, which was repaved a year or so ago and was smooth and black and warm on our freezing backs. Okay, my freezing back.
After this recharge we went to lay in the grass under a favorite tree and listen to music. Something we do often. A song from a Disney movie, "Hawaiian Rollercoaster Ride" came on and she tied her towel around her like a skirt, dancing in a hula-like fashion. Her older sister and I joined her, and after about fifteen minutes we had a hole dance put together. We were really starting to get excited about it when a jogger came around the corner. I think he had headphones in, and the guy comes around everyday, probably seeing us do much crazier things than the hula, but for whatever the reason someone said "Jogger!!" and we all hit the ground in somewhat casual positions.
Some things that I heard out of the commotion as we turned off the music and untied our skirts were, "Pshh, we're not doing the hula." "No way, there's no music." "We don't dance on the front lawn." And finally, my own spastic comment, "We're not even Hawaiian!!!" This wasn't all that funny, but we laughed so hard that we were rolling on our backs.
After we calmed down, we realized that we could always hula in the pool, and we were getting hot again. So we went back in.
After a few underwater tea parties, the clouds started rolling in. Oh, goody.
We had just barely made it into the garage with our iPods and towels when it started downpouring. It had hardly been a minute and already the streets were flooded. We did a kind of awkward sigh in unison, and Delia spoke our thoughts.
"I wish we could go out there. It would be so much fun." That was when I chimed in. "Why not? We're already wet and we're wearing bathing suits!" So we did.
We danced around in the rain, her sister had a bit of a slip, but no causualties. The tar had been so hot earlier that it burned our feet, but now the cool rain sent steam billowing away from it. It was gorgeous. It was as if the Earth itself knew when it was too hot, and sent the short, ten minute burst to cool off with. Delia called it extraordinarily brilliant. And it was.
Soon after that I had to be home, but halfway there I realized that I had forgotten something.
"Hey Sunshine. What starts with g, ends in s, and you wear it on your face?" I recognized that I needed my glasses and turned around, but answered, "Is it a puppy?"
Nothing that happened that day was really all that special. But for some strange reason, it struck me as amazing. It also helped me realize how much I love my life, and my friends. Next time it rains on a hot day, watch the steam come off the tar, dance around in your bathing suit, and think about it. What really qualifies for a best day ever?