Plink-plink. Plink-plink. The little black and white plastic bird had a top-hat and a painted-on bow tie, so it was hoity-toity. That was why Mr. Rupert Stevens liked it. Mr. Stevens himself usually wore a thin leather strap of a tie, or no tie at all. It suited his personality better. He was a pioneer; rough around the edges. But his little wooden bird sipped at his very own glass of scotch, and he provided life-giving liquids to every high class businessman in every big city.
He looked out over his fields, at the little black metal birds.
SLO was nice; very scenic. I climbed half a mountain (although used to long long walks on the flat terrain of Chicago, neither my shoes nor myself were prepared for climbing an actual mountain; I twisted my ankle and almost fainted. Fun times!) and we went to dinner at a pier that had a seal infestation (no, seriously, the seals covered the bottom layer of the pier. You couldn't see the wood slats for the seals. It was kind of like a Koala infestation only smellier and louder and more maritime. Kevin decided that if he lived in a boat he would want a pet seal. Mom and Dad thought it was rather odd). It was awesome^max seeing Kevin, we watched Across the Universe in his old-new apartment (not his, sublet for the summer, he moves vaguely soon into another one; also, I love that movie and now one of the songs is stuck in my head) and I now have more Andrew Bird and some Vampire Weekend to listen to. Hooray! Tomorrow is the big day. Half of me is excited and half of me is worried. I will listen to the excited half and not the other one.