Another weekend rolls by, and of course I spent it with Lauren. We even had a holiday, of sorts.
We’d been talking about how we could really do with getting away for a while, preferably somewhere really far away and tropical, but of course the funds and free time weren’t exactly forthcoming. So, after we’d had dinner at Whistler’s Mother on Friday evening, we went back to Lauren’s place and I sent her out of her bedroom for a few minutes. I pulled the mattress onto the floor, arranged some chairs on either side of it, then draped a bedsheet over the chairs as a makeshift tent. I’d also brought a CD of rainforest background noise with me, and thus we were able to camp out in the Amazon rainforest (kind of). It was a good night.
It turns out that sleeping in a rainforest affects your dreams though, since Lauren seemingly dreamed she was humming Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love whilst talking to her parents. Actually, that was probably more due to my influence rather than that of the rainforest, since I sing that particular song about thirty times a day. Accordingly, when I got out of the shower on Saturday morning (er, actually afternoon at around 3pm), Lauren put it on in iTunes for my benefit.
Lastly, when walking into uni this morning, we passed by a white van with three guys just getting into it. The last of them took a look at Lauren, then made eye contact with me and grinned, nodding such as to say “Nice, dude. Well played.”
Yes, I am totally the man.