WHO: my vacation-lovin' self.
WHAT: Flew back to the west coast with boyfriend, went to a wedding, retrieved car, filled car to the brim with stuff from storage unit, drove 3,000 back to New York City
WHEN: last week
WHERE: AMERICA.
WHY: 'Cause I thought that my boyfriend's 1992 Subaru Legacy (yessss) would be just fine driving 3,000 miles. And I thought that taking a bunch of vitamins and drinking 'smartwater' would ensure that I would not come down with the plague and remain sick my ENTIRE vacation. I also, stupidly, overlooked the possibility that the car would completely quit working seventy miles outside of Missoula, Montana. And that we would spend almost a grand on a rental car to get me, the boyfriend and all of our stuff the remaining 2,500 miles. Oh and did I mention that we ran out of time and at one point had to drive for 36 hours straight and I drank a bunch of energy shots and got cracked out and hit a raccoon and started crying? Yeah.
HINT: Don't leave the keys to your car in the care of your pizza delivery friend for three months. He WILL drive that car into the ground and all you will get out of it is some mummified pepperonis in the back seat.
I give it:
/ 10
NEGATIVE SIX OUT OF TEN HAPPY BRUCE FACES
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