the ocean

Ian and I went up to a friend's lake house in Michigan this weekend. We are not what I would consider to be "lake people." I don't ski or wakeboard, unless you count the Nintendo version. Boating is fine with me, but I am just as happy with drinking on solid ground. And swimming in a lake just strikes me as a chance to have some animal I can't see brush up against me. But I have enjoyed an occasional trip to be outdoors (within reason) with friends and maintain the right level of buzz with scientific precision. This weekend was no exception.

The weather was great and the lake was lovely. We brought and quickly downed Mexican Street Corn Cheetos and Crumbl cookies (I can't tell you how much I hate how that is spelled). We enjoyed a pontoon boat and a roaring fire (not at the same time). And we had some fine conversation with friends on everything from getting Teams calls from associates at 10:36 PM on a Tuesday to the general state of Che Diaz. Also, whatever mattress pad they were rocking in the guest room was amazing. I slept like an incredibly good looking baby.

Also, quaintness! There was an old timey roller skating rink that's been in operation for 95 years and a bar that was also a bait shop. Farm stands were everywhere and no one even tried to make me eat kale. Antique stores were plentiful and only some of them seemed racist. Also, we stopped at an old school Applebee's on the way back. I don't think we could be more Real America if we tried.