Get me outta here

Tomorrow I am going to San Francisco and . . . I'm ecstatic.

I realized how much I hate Rohnert Park today when I was driving home from gettting my oil changed.

I wanted to go back to my apartment and lay in the sun because it was such a beautiful day, but since the driving and turning lanes on the roads were designed by a nut, I had to turn right instead of left and there were so many cars and so little room that they wouldn't let me over.
So left I went. . . and was angry.
Angry at the other drivers.
The schizophrenic that painted the road lanes.
The town.
My car.
Everyone.

So much so, that at the next stop light I started screaming, like, literally screaming.
Only to realize the guy next to me was totally watching me.
I think I completely turned him off to women. Go me.

Took me forever to finally turn around and go the direction I wanted and by the time I got home to go soak up those golden rays . . . I was over it.
I ate lunch instead.

My day sucked even more when a man delivered the biggest box you had ever seen to my doorstep.
It was full of roses and thinking it was magically for me I frantically looked for a name . . . and I found it.
It was to Sara, my roommate, from her boyfriend of 1 month. Puh-LEEZ!!!!!!

I would still be peeing my pants right now if that was for me and you know what?
Her pants are dry!!!!

However, I did get a charming little heart-fluttering gift this afternoon.

A parking ticket.



See. This is why I need to leave. None of this petty, small town, jibber jabber. . . whatever THAT is.

So if your in the mood for some S.F. shopping, dinning and dancing, you should join us computer.
Because I would love to see a fresh face.

I really need some ice cream but I can still feel my dinner sitting at the top of my stomach.

(sigh) See what a little venting can do? I already feel better.