Two geography tests, a mountain of work-work, a much-needed hair trim, and one hell of stressful packing situation all stand between me and my upcoming trip with my two BFs to the City by the Bay. But that all just got okay, because only moments ago, I pulled out of my very own mailbox, MY BART CARD! WOOOOOO! It is pictured above in blurry--but still discernible--glory.
That's right, people...
She's got a ticket to rye-hide! She's got a ticket to rye-high-hide! She's got a ticket to ride!
And she don't care!
[I'll be taking my laptop and camera and, by God, I plan to post! Don't quote me on this. Especially if tequila becomes involved.]