Don't Fence Me In

I'm headed for Los Angeles tomorrow, and I'm trying to act cool about it.

But somewhere inside of me is a subversive chuckling, a chuckling rejoices in my nonchalant independence. Either that, or indigestion, which is entirely possible given the animal style fries I had with my grilled cheese tonight...

I kind of told my parents, "Hey, Mom and Dad, I'm going to LA for a couple days, so I'll need the car. Alright?" and my dad sort of grumbled a minute because he had to make it sound like a decision or something and said "oh, alright, I guess I can use the truck for work." And this is where and why I am so guilty all the time, because my parents put me through guilt trips like no other. Luckily, I am my father's daughter, and quickly interject his begrudging agreement with: "No, Dad, it's okay if you need it, you can say no, I just want to visit some friends I don't see at school anymore; I can take the truck if you want, or if that won't work I can always take Greyhound."

And that, ladies, gentlemen, and others, is how I get the car for a week.

I'm only going to LA for a couple days, though... I need some fresh air at some point or another. We'll see what happens. In the meantime, I'm keeping my windows and my mind open.