Sorbet is classy.

A conversation I had with my madre today while waiting in line at the good ol' In 'n' Out Burger:

Me: I watched a show today called 'Sixteen and Pregnant'. It was dysfunctional.
Mom: Well, that's neverrr going to happen to you.
Me: I know I know I know!
Mom: I mean, you're practically seventeen.
Me: ...

LULS

Okay, down to business.

California freeways are no joke. I mean, I'm sure I blow them way out of proportion because I'm so used to the mellow, sometimes boring roads of Washington, but lately I'm finding that whenever we take our coveted exit, the one that slightly resembles the promise land, my shoulders suddenly uncurl, I stop clenching my teeth, and I let out the breath that I didn't even realize I was holding. My mom is by no means a bad driver. She's what you could call a pretty boss driver. It's those other cars I'm threatened by.

It's the way they cruise so unnecessarily fast from the freeway entrance. It's the way they have the audacity to switch lanes without using a blinker. A BLINKER.

I
know.

It's the way they make me feel like I'm seventy years old when I'm forced to hold on to that thingy above the door when mom has to fight her way to a different lane so that we don't end up headed to LA. It's the way they make me wonder how the heck I'm going to react when I'm the one that's actually behind the wheel. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why I have not yet attempted to get my drivers license.

Well, that and the fact that I'm too lazy.

Anyway, while we're on the subject of cruising down intimidating roads, let's talk Santa Ana. There's a liquor store like, every three blocks in that place.

I
know.


Which got me to thinking (Duh.) what it would be like to WORK in a liquor store. Do I waste my thinking process on certain subjects? I think not.

But seriously, I don't know about you, but I'm ridiculously amused by drunk people.

Imagine what a night it would be to see various people staggering through the aisles, carefully choosing their alcohol of the night while you sit there, watching, as they finally make their selection and then struggle to get it in the cart that happens to be already overflowing with liquor. I would find that fascinating. Even more so if people like McLovin' came in.

So after we took unnecessary back roads through Santa Ana, with fireworks going off absolutely EVERYWHERE. Bursting in the sky, sputtering on the sidewalks, popping and cracking and putting me even more on edge than usual, which probably isn't healthy since I work myself up to tall enough neurotic heights on the freeway, we finally got to our destination: Downtown Disneyland.

Which was so worth it, considering we went to the Haagen-Daz ice cream shop.

I
know.

I ordered raspberry sorbet, which I was completely stoked about because I love how I sound when I say sorbet, all classy, and my mom got chocolate peanut butter ice cream. To die for.

Hands down, best ice cream I've ever had.
And that's saying something, because I LIKE ice cream.




Movie Quote of the Day:
Hey Grandma, not okay to answer the door when you're not wearing clothes.
- Carter Webb
In the Land of Women