Plans not working out=better than original.

So, I was begging and pleading with my mom to let me either go to Canada with them, or take me to the beach. I haven’t been either place in a few years.  I figured that I’d either get one or the other.  The beach was more likely because our family friend, who is in Pittsburgh for the summer, owns a house in Fort Myers, Florida that they live in in during the winter months.  Well, lady pulled through and said “Hey, you guys can use the house in Florida for a week or two this summer. Just pick the dates and let me know and I’ll get you the keys.”

I will be drunk here for a whole week.

Mother Effing Jackpot.

I’m hoping to meet a rich, tan Floridian boy while I’m down there. They live in the rich people part of Fort Myers.

Then, my mom says that I might as well go to Canada because there will be no means of me getting to work and back since Daddy needs the cars to get to work, and, well, I don’t drive anyway.

I love Canada. You didn't know, eh?

That’s right: I get TWO vacations.

I winned it.

Mother. Fucking. Jackpot.

The only bad thing about June was spending too much money because I was in my Best Friend’s wedding, and my birthday kind of sucked.

Well, it only sucked because I had some sort of nightmare that woke me up in deep sobs. And I had to work because some girl called off because she was sick/hungover. Whatever. My parents bought me a Nook. Which means that they are finally embracing the fact that I am a total book nerd.

Again, Jackpot.

So, now that I’m twenty-two (my cousin told me that I was now considered ‘old’. She’ll be 16 on Thursday), I get to take 2 vacations and continue to be incredibly poor. Whatever. As long as I’m drunk and tan while doing so.

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