So tomorrow, Schmeeds & I set off into the great wide open & land our happy asses into the land of a wedding, train-transportation, and (of course) glam trashrock.
I can't wait!
I started thinking of all the things I wanted to do & see, but then I realized that I hadn't asked Ian what he wanted at all. I just know that I cannot compromise on two things: the Gucci Store, and (quite the opposite) H&M. I've never been to a Gucci store. Come to think of it, I've never been to a high, upscale bling-bling store. When I was in Paris, I walked past Louis Vuitton on the Champs-Elysees, but I didn't go in. I was way too scared - little 18 yr. old, CK Jeans-wearing, hair pushed back into ponitail, camera-toting girl from Hobbs, NM, in Louis Vuitton? No way. I just stared longingly through the window as we were herded down the street towards the Arc de Triomphe. (I also took the least amount of pictures on the trip - I was so scared of looking like an American tourist. I'm sure they could all tell. Should have just taken the goddamn pictures.)
So, thus begins the descent into going! on! a! trip! that! I! want! to! go! on! The last three times I have been on an airplane were to Phoenix, AZ, and once in 2001, my mom, sister, and I went to visit my aunt in New York state. That's it. Nothing exciting since the Parisian trip in 1998.
Hot damn!
We's gonna have a fine time!