~Tokyopoprock

Picture this... I'm entering the airport terminal, about to board a plane to Orlando, an ELEVEN HOUR FLIGHT, the destination of which is literally the opposite side of the country.

I'm wearing a white sundress with thick black, assymetrical and randomized stripes, a ridiculously huge black and white beach hat, sunglasses, and my favorite shoes. I'm pulling my brand new, Fifth Avenue luggage, which you can bet doesn't contain a single pair of pants or a single t-shirt, but the most fabulous dresses that can be purchased for fifty dollars or less and a collection of skirts with polka dots and shirts with ruffles and bows (even a low-cut, undershirt-requiring, bow-waisted t-shirt that has a HOOD; the cutest darned thing I've ever seen, as my sister, from whom I recieved it, has the best taste of anyone I've ever met), and maybe two or more extra pairs of shoes. I've curled my hair (the curling iron is in my suitcase). I've been using beauty moisturizer (which is in my suitcase). I smell like sunblock (also in my suitcase). I've lost over thirty pounds (which will never be allowed to socialize with my suitcase as I've banished all thirty of them to the fiery pits of hell). I'm a college student and have been for almost a year (there's the "mysterious" factor right there! How did she end up in college at 17?? No one has to know I dropped out of high school~). I've spent so much time playing in the sun that my hair is now blonde and I have a brand new tan. I've just turned 18 and my ID - which I'll show to the receptionist - says so.

And everyone in Seattle who's going ANYWHERE will see me.

It will be MY FINEST MOMENT.