God Bless America, and pools.

Really now, where would we be without pools?

Lucky lucky moi that I get to lounge poolside whenever my little heart desires it at Guru B’s phat pad. Yes, I just said phat. With a “ph”. I don’t think I’ve said that in …

Years? Maybe back at the DDD house with the sistas? Who knows. But I’m here to bring it back. That’s right, Phat is back, ya’ll. Watch out.

Right now I have that glorious sunscreen smell. Hmmm. Probably not so glorious a smell maybe for a lot of you, but for me, I love it. Just love it. It evokes such happy memories of childhood and beaches and sand stuck all over me and pools and warm days and great tans.

Pool season has officially kicked off, and I am vowing to get some good sunning in on these white legs. Seriously people, I’m so white … blindingly, Casper-esque white. It hurts my eyes. While it does take some time, I do tan.

Some time meaning like a good month or so. And then I’m off to the bronzing races. But, alas, I shall never be as black, I mean Native, no wait — tan — as A. She seriously gets native on my ass. Not fair.

Yesterday, in a mere afternoon of pooling it, she became at least 25 shades darker. At least.

This afternoon I was ready for a nice napper, when I thought: Wait! Why sleep here when I can sleep in a raft?

Yeah, totally was working my lounging/napping angle to the best of my ability and that brain of mine did not, for once, let me down.

A and her Nativeness was ready again for some pool action. Killer combo. Gorgeous pool. Check. Amazing friend. Check. Great, laughter filled conversation. Check. Food. Check.

What more could I ask in Sunday afternoon?

Oh, and it’s at T-minus one day till The BF is back. It’s about damn time.