fucking. shit.
Just talked to my mom about Europe. She started yelling at me about not having travel plans for my 10 days of free-wheeling after my journalism study abroad trip is over. I have tried to explain to her hundreds of times that actually planning my travel partners and exact destinations to a particular instant or location completely negates the whole point of my travels. Plotting out my course of action should be purely instinctual and spontaneous; especially considering the people I'm planning on meeting there. Mothers are naturally worrisome creatures, but explaining my purpose and reasoning always falls on her deaf ears. Besides, I thought she had other, more important things to worry about. I'm feel like more of an adult than my mother and my father. combined. She just hung up on me because I told her to stop yelling in my ear about nonsensical issues; I felt like Ignatius J. fucking Reilly.
Fruit is wonderful. I had the most exquisite, fleshy mango known to man two days ago; yes, it's worth documenting in my livejournal. I also would like a bike. Maybe I'll check out the police impound/auction when I get back from Europe.
Fruit is wonderful. I had the most exquisite, fleshy mango known to man two days ago; yes, it's worth documenting in my livejournal. I also would like a bike. Maybe I'll check out the police impound/auction when I get back from Europe.