Pity party for one
“I can't complain, but sometimes I still do.” ~Joe Walsh
So there was supposed to be a well written post about my progress and how I enjoyed polenta lasagna with fresh pesto and half a bottle of wine and my roommate and I were brought together by the phrase “Fendi outlet” which I’m sure would bring any two people with a sense of bargain shopping together. Alas, there will not be because I just found out that I will not be enjoying
But since I must take a vacation that’s not to Martha’s Vineyard, which while lovely, gets a little old, and every year I (and by ‘every year’ I mean ‘last year when I finally had to start paying for and actually planning my own vacations and realized that I didn’t have $9,000 to frolic around Europe again. And well, I’ll be damned’) I say that I’m going to go somewhere and yet I do not. I go to
I would like to go somewhere in either March or April. That requires a passport. I’m fluent in Spanish. I could go alone** without being shot or something (though even that is probably not going to happen, but definitely could go alone) and I’ve already been to
I could suck it up and just go out to
*Lord, I hope you all (sorry, ‘ya’ll’) aren’t taking me seriously. Because this is such trite shit to complain about and do not pity me. Instead offer suggestions of where to go, because now I’m flailing.
** I should also mention that I want to go away alone, not because I have to, but because I’m a misanthrope like that.