5.

I just typed and backspaced five different sentences in effort to find the most comfortable way to communicate the fact that I have a boyfriend (and his name is Shawn). That in itself might tell you a thing or two about me and relationships. I am not comfortable in them. However, I have been in one for five months as of today, and that might not sound like a super long time, but in Bri/boyfriend time, five months is basically the equivalent to fifteen years. What I'm trying to say is, today was a pretty groundbreaking day in the life of Bri Herter.
To celebrate, we went to see Gnomeo and Juliet (don't judge), got some Steak n Shake (as is tradition for any day that we might be on West Main), drove around trying to get lost (who knew Mattawan had a "Camp and Retreat Center"???), and ended up at the old softball field where Shawn used to creep on me during my games/practices/field clean ups back in the day when I was a freshmen and he was a super major creep (so much so that he was known as "biker boy" to my teammates, appropriately named after his extra creepy bicycle drive-bys, back before driver's licenses entered the scene).
Since Michigan is going through its most drastic heat wave out of like, every February ever (45 degrees!), I thought it would be a really good idea to go out onto the field under the moonlight (mentally plotting my secret snowball attack). I gleefully trotted around the half-snow half-mud field, taking in the smell of the near-spring air. That's when I saw the pitcher's mound - it was higher than the rest of the field and thus, that patch of earth was superior to the rest, and therefore that was the patch that I needed to occupy right that second. It was the perfect position from which to launch my attack. So, I scampered on over full of pent-up energy and anxious excitement (since it was night, and those are the things I usually become full to the rim with as soon as it becomes time to "settle down"), but apparently there was a giant moat hiding under the snow and ice surrounding my prized mound. It completely blindsided me, and before I knew it my right leg was sunk to the knee in frigid mud/ice water/sludge nasty. I instantly couldn't feel my foot, in fact I wasn't even sure if I still had one. But I didn't want to let my recent loss of feeling in a quarter of my body put a damper on our softball field adventure, so I pressed on.
You know that yellow plastic tubing stuff that gets put along the top of softball field fences so nobody gets shanked on the fence while diving for a fly ball or something? Well, back in my softball days, me and my friends, Alyssa and Audrey, always made it a game to flip over the fence like James Bond to collect the most stray balls. So I was all like, "WATCH THIS!!!" to Shawn, ready to demonstrate one of our cool, fence-flipping moves. Feeling really awesome, I sprinted up to the fence like a professional gymnast ready to ninja-jump one of those horse thingamajigs, and executed my skillful maneuver. Everything was going as planned, until my foot touched the ground... or rather, yet another sheet of ice blanketing yet another massive gorge swelling with arctic death. And let me tell you, 40 degrees doesn't feel quite so warm when you're soaked to the bone in arctic death.
But at least it caused a good laugh on Shawn's end.

Anyway, tonight I was enlightened on the fact that if I had lived during the Holocaust, I would have been hunted by Hitler. Apparently I'm 1/4 Jewish. Ya learn something new every day.

And just a fun fact: In five more months I will be packing up and moving to Colorado. Starting to freak me out a little. In a good way.