on hoooooolidayyyy

I now realize that I really, really dislike everything about Florida except for Disney World. Disney is like Mars. You don't go there and realize you're in suckass hot-as-balls slow-paced Florida -- you're on another planet. A swift-moving, thrill-induced colorfuck of a world that can't be considered one of the 50 states of our country. In Disney, the economy doesn't matter. Bills aren't on your mind. You don't worry about who will win the World Series. All that matters is how long the wait time is for Mission: Space and if Test Track is broken or working given the hour of the day.

I really hated Sarasota.

Like, really really. It was washed out, slow-paced and boring. And motherfucking muggy. I mean, it's muggy in upstate NY - but that's only for 3 months. It's muggy 24/7 here. Which means I get all prettyfied, straighten my hair, put on makeup and nice clothes and I walk outside for an hour and come back looking like the living dead. AND I got bitched at by the order taker lady at Burger King (for apparently being a Yank...). OK: When I ask you what's on a burger, and you tell me it's a bun and a hamburger patty like a smartass, and I simply ask if there is MAYONAISE on it, I do NOT appreciate being told "well, you would have found out if you just let me speak." YES I WOULD HAVE FOUND OUT... 2 MINUTES LATER. BECAUSE YOU SPEAK ONE WORD PER SECOND APPARENTLY.

Did I mention I fucking hated Sarasota?

I hope my parents a) don't plan to move down there if/when my sister decides to go to school there and/or b) don't expect me to visit them if they do.

So I'm back in Syracuse, safe and sound. We flew through storms last night and the turbulance on our puddle-jumper plane was ridiculous. I personally thought it was funny - flying doesn't bother me and is much safer than driving, as it is - but some people (namely, my mother, who thought my hand was a stressball) did not.

Jamie and I were supposed to go see Boys Like Girls tonight but we decided eating cake and shooting the shit would be much more fun. And it was. We didn't get stuck in pits of screaming scene girls who only knew "Thunder," we didn't get our ears deafened by the terrible sound system in Goldstein and we had our cake and ate it too. No porn though... but plenty of reminiscing (oh, you wish you knew).

We did bring up a conversation about Halloween though - namely, WHAT THE FUCK SHOULD I BE! I know I'll be going to my piercer's party, which will (most likely) have a zombie theme (it did last year, anyway) and I thought I might bring back my beat-up prostitute costume with a living dead twist.

Or, you know, I can always go as a Sarasotan...