In case you didn't get the memo, this is Colorado. The place where it is dry as a bone and people who live here love that fact.
Consequently, when you choose to come and POUR all weekend you seriously cramp everyone's style. All I have heard at work this morning is about the rain. Someone complains about it and then someone else tells them not to be upset because we "really needed it."
I just wanted to let you know what I missed because of your behavior. To give you some kind of preface for this story, I have to go back to the first summer I lived in Colorado....summer of 2002. I was a lowly intern with the company that I work for now. I was living in crappy, nasty student housing up on the hill with no airconditioning and two roommates who wouldn't speak to me when they found out I was Mormon. One day at work I heard someone telling a story of their weekend. The started to describe something that I very much wanted to see. The renaissance festival.
Basing my assumptions on the interesting people who were part of the sword and quill club at BYU, I was immediately intrigued by this event and went to the source of all information to do a little research. The internet. There I found that the Colorado renaissance festival was a huge event occurring every year where people dressed up, jousted, and fenced. Unfortunately for that season I was too late; the festival ended at the end of July.
Upon returning to BYU I put this serious disappointment aside, thinking I would probably never return to the great state of Colorado. Imagine my delight when fortune turned at the end of my senior year and I indeed ended up back in Colorado.
Summer of 2003 was a hard one for me. I didn't really know anyone and spent the majority of my weekends flying home or driving up into the mountains to visit friends from BYU. I didn't have the sway over anyone to induce them to come with me down to Larkspur.
Fast forward through the next two summers when camping trips and weddings derailed my attempts to attend.
At the beginning of this summer I was set on going to the festival. I made up a schedule of every weekend in summer and found the only day I could go was July 8. July 8th was to be the day when my ultimate desire was to be satiated. I was looking forward with heady anticipation.
When I woke up Saturday morning and saw that you had chosen to foil my plans by arriving in a very unseasonable monsoon that lasted ALL DAY LONG I was amazed. At first I looked out of my window, staring in complete unbelief. How could this happen to me? I'd made a plan! I am outraged! Oh well, I guess it'll be alright. Fine, I'll just go next year.
Anyway, I guess it's good that you came. We needed the rain.
PS You owe me a turkey leg.