but not really.

last week, on a warm and sweaty afternoon in the hippie part of vancouver, i embarked on a bike ride to english bay avec mon ami, geoff. we sat on the beach and gave each other grass stains and tried to spit in each other's nose. well, he tried, and i screamed like a girl who was afraid that someone was trying to spit in her nose. i brought my new camera with me, hoping to capture the essence of people as they interacted with the world. inner and outer. that got boring after 26 minutes. geoff, with eyes aflame, began making stupidly effective alien noises to attract attention. he'd go, "blalalaalepppp" but in a higher, my-balls-were-just-nailed kinda voice, at each passerby who'd look or not look. if someone looked sideways at us, i'd shoot 'em with my camera. it was really fun and i imagine it'd be even more fun if we were ten years younger and not wearing our formal business attire. grass stains are a bitch, and so is the one i love.