15 hour drive to Panama City
Corey’s reading Harry Potter in the backseat with me, and I, bored almost to tears because a) it’s dark so there’s nothing to look at, and b) I’m not tired because I’m now that person that stays up till 6am and then accomplishes nothing the next day- am now tumbling quietly listening to the inspirational music of Justin Bieber.
This drive really reminds me why I prefer the hassle of airports over BORING CRAPPY DRIVING IN THE DARK. I even know that weird parts of my body will ache once we arrive in Florida because I don’t handle car rides well.
Yup. Next spring break I’m going to the Caribbean and I’ll be safely put on a plane there.
My sister totes made me feel guilty about going on a spring break primarily to party and have fun. She went on a missions trip to help the poverty stricken patch up their houses that were in barely livable conditions in Memphis. Gah. I hate hearing about stuff like that because then I just think about everything I could do for people like that and I just get overwhelmed and feel guilty about my major- like I should major in social work or go into the Peace Corps.
If only I wasn’t such a gold digging bitch. Not that I want a mansion or anything, but I would prefer a designer dress or two in my lifetime. But then I think of all the money that went to that and how I could have helped someone else instead. I guess that’s the trick to staying happy in college- you can’t afford anything so you stay blissfully unaware of all the people you could help.
Tumblr, I’m rambling. Enrique Iglesias is all sorts of sexy and his voice makes me want to have sex. (Well, figuratively I suppose, since I still retain my v-card.)
This car is making my ankles cold. >:-(
My neck hurts.
I want more cinnamon twists.
I can’t wait to be in the sun.
I would LOVE to ring your bells, Enrique.
My hand is still mildly paralyzed. As is my knee. Thanks Bear.
Despite feeling bad, I can’t wait to party with the thousands of other college students at the beach.
I hate to say it, but I love my iPhone now.
And the last mandatory note about loving Corey’s big D, of course.
