By the lack of posts you could assume that I had a boring, uninteresting summer, or you could think that I was so busy I didn’t have time to post. In truth, it was probably somewhere in between.
Summer to me means Florida. And while most people define summer as the period between Memorial Day and Labor Day, my summer is the six-week period I spend at my Dad’s house.
It’s the time where I get to chill-out completely. No cell reception, no responsibilities. I’m in vacation mode, pretending I’m Paris Hilton with endless shopping trips (Gap, not Gucci), delicious dinners (Olive Garden, not The Ivy) and pool-side tanning. Except while Paris Hilton’s mind is probably occupied with what name…
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