Would you believe me if I told you I'm currently in a moving minivan, on a highway near Rochester, New York, somehow getting internet through some kind of crazy space machine magic? The Situation, who is driving the car and looking very, very cute in brown courds and a blue shirt that makes his eyes stand out, has this ability to make technology do whatever he wants. We're in a car. On the highway. And I'm balancing his laptop over my crossed legs, typing a blog, with full internet access. What IS this?!
Anyway, I haven't had the opportunity to blog in a couple of days because I've been too busy being friggin' sweet. I powered through my torturous exams despite having an apocalyptic cough*, watery eyes, and enough pressure in my head to turn mucus into coal. I got my school friends to help me move out of my dorm (if you've never seen three little girls and a gay boy roll a 12x12 carpet down a flight of stairs...), and had my cold miraculously cured by a long overdue bath and one amazing night's sleep in my real room. Then, with barely enough downtime to even, like, change my fish's water, I was on a plane to New York City at six in the morning. I was picked up from my bus station by Sarah (the friend whose wedding I was in last summer), and the two of us got on a train to New Jersey to see our friends Leah, Amanda and Marlena.
I thought you'd like to know that, as I type this, The Situation is using a squeegee on the outside of the windshield. I'm pretending to lick the water from inside the car. He just flicked the water in front of my face. It was cute. Moving right along.
My friends and I spent the afternoon hanging out on the Jersey shore, fist-pumping (not really) and eating deep fried Oreos (I'm serious). The shore pretty much met my expectations on the Trashiness Meter, what with the misspelled gift shop merchandise and racist paraphernalia spray painted on shacks that sell fried Pop Tarts, but it was also much prettier than it gets credit for. Marlena and I rode one of those touristy... what is it, exactly? Like a ski lift that takes you over the beach so you can get an aerial view of the guidos and funnel cakes? Yeah, we rode one of those and geeked out because it was featured in a Jessica Darling novel. All around, too, it was just nice walking in the sand with friends I don't get to see very often, breathing in that therapeutic salt.
Then, once we were thoroughly tired and I was wondering whether force-vomiting my deep fried Oreo would be borderline Bulimia or just self-preservation**, I went back to Leah's house to hang out and sleep. I got to experience her sweet family's fabled Saturday morning breakfast, and then we were off to the city once again.
I'm going to interject here to inform you that The Situation is currently vlogging (his drummer, Andy, whom I adore, is filming from the backseat), and he just said, "I find it hilarious when people are overly enthusiastic about food. That's probably why I'm dating Hayley." Haha... what can I say? BACK TO THE STORY!
I hung out in the city on Saturday morning with my friends (including Liane, Jenn, Karen, Jackie and Graham this time), before meeting up with The Situation and his band. Like a ninja, I saw my friend Zarni play a show that was twenty-one and over. I sat back with a cup of peppermint tea and giggled to my nineteen-year-old self, feeling like a badass. Not only is Zarni funny, adorable and one of the most gorgeous creatures this earth has ever seen, her music is amazing. The Situation had better watch himself. Not really. ...Kind of. Yes. But seriously; check her out.
Saturday night was a lot of fun. All my friends from the area (including TheHill88, my ultimate youtube heroine and creative influence!) came out to see Mike play, and most of them left with CD's, if not autographs. I'm not sure if you knew this about him, but when it comes to music, my boyfriend is kind of a genius-rockstar-god-amongst-mere-mortals. He's fantastic at what he does, and his band is ridiculous as well. I pretty much have to bite the side of my hand whenever he starts singing so the pure happiness and adoration doesn't spew out of my mouth in the form of rainbow-colored ooze. Not an exaggeration.
After Mike's show, his supersexytalented friend Michael Greenberg played enough songs to cause most of my female friends to walk away fanning themselves. Once again, not an exaggeration-- he kind of sounds like a warm buttery potion made out of unadulterated talent, mixed with sex. With, like, steam wafting off the top of the glass. Actually, take a second right now to listen to some of his stuff. You hear that? Yeah. I met him.
Since then, we stayed over at Michael Greenberg's house in Connecticut on Saturday night and skipped stones on the beach, then got back to The Situation's house on Sunday. We chilled there*** until this morning, and now we're on our way to Indiana to drop off Andy, the drummer, and Alex, the bassist. I'll probably talk to you guys again at some point before my adventure is over, so for now, I'm going to go. Partially because I'm kind of tired of typing, and partially because The Situation is shoving a miniature Chips Ahoy cookie into my mouth and it's difficult to see the laptop screen.
Chipotle burritos this year: 18
Nail color: "Hoodoo Voodoo," OPI
**Don't get me wrong-- it was delicious. But it was delicious in the way that you sort of want it nowhere near your digestive system, for fear that you might, like, grow a second evil head.
***"Chilling" is what I call "going on beautiful hikes and having bonfires and eating awesome pasta prepared for us by his mother" when I'm getting sick of blogging and Andy's asking to use the internet plug.