A vendetta has been placed on someone's life . . . haha

Today was supposed to be a good day of more childish activities. We had all planned a large game of baseball/softball/frisbeebaseball/anything-that-could-be-played-on-a-baseball-field-ball. So we all show up in our baseball uniforms and begin a great game of sixteen inch softball. First base got the most laughs because the rain had turned the dirt in that area into a camoflauged sea of quicksand. Anytime someone rounded the bag they were greeted with six inches deep of mud (Karissa actually found herself face-first in it crawling back to first). Anyway, so everything was going great (mostly because the boy's team was owning) until the girls decided they were bored of softball. The girls decided it was time for frisbee baseball (which is like baseball except the batter throws a frisbee instead of hitting the ball with a bat). We all agreed and the girls pulled out a frisbee-golf frisbee (which is smaller, sleeker, heavier, and more powerful than a normal recreational frisbee). Immediately James and I argued that there was no way in hell we could play with that because no one could catch it. The girls argued back that it was easy to catch. So foolishly, we started the game. Liz and Elise had batted, lobbing the frisbee a measly 8 or 10 yards and no one attempted to catch it for fear of jamming a finger. Then Karissa got up to the plate. She had that look of sheer competition on her face, like she was going to show everyone up. So she cocks back and unleashes a furious firsbee-pitch . . . straight into James' face. Of course, James hits the ground hard, and in true James fashion screams "I have senior pictures tomorrow!" followed by a string of obscenities. Initially I assumed that he would just have a nice shiner and some hurt feelings, but he rolled over to reveal a gaping wound complete with massive amounts of blood. The Girls freak. The guys mutter obscenities under their breath. James continues to rant and rave about pictures, blood, and the stupidity that comes with being a teenage girl. Obviously, we were done with sports for today.

The next two hours I spent in the Immediate Care drinking coffee, hitting on the receptionist, and making new friends on account of my Chicago Cubs shirt. Long story short, James ended up with 5 stitches and a lot of laughs.