Nineteen, Travel

L.A. or Bust, Baby

It’s the morning of March 27th and I am drinking a glass of Martinelli’s for breakfast. My birthday was an entirely wonderful day, although anticlimactic for the special occasion. It consisted of the following, in this order:

  • Breakfast Burrito
  • Nap
  • Rob & Big
  • Beach
  • Rob & Big
  • Opening of the Mail (which only contained 1 birthday envelope from my grandma, which made me feel really happy, and at which point the boys convinced me to call her right then at midnight and thank her. But dammit, I called my grandma at midnight and couldn’t even leave a proper message because the boys were laughing too hard. I called my grandma for shock value, and GRANDMA? I’M SORRY. I know you still love me. But I’m sorry.)
  • Opening Mail, then I made some popcorn and watched the news and knew I could go to bed when they said “Good morning, it’s Thursday March 27th…”

So right now I’m all packed, and me and Amy are heading out in 10 min. to go to L.A. for a Citizen Cope concert and to lay on a pretty beach and tan, and visit her home in Palm Desert. I’m SO STOKED. This my birthday, right here. I got my spring break mix all ready, I’m headin’ out just one last thing to say:

I want to marry Rob Dyrdek.

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