NYC

So here's the rub: I invited myself. 

It's not that I'm obnoxious. Except that I am. Kind of. But in a cute way? 

It was April. I was cold and lonely in this new state of mine which happens to be really close to New York City. And Jess mistakenly announced her plans for a solo trip on Instagram. And they sounded like some pretty solid plans: a cool hotel room and a broadway play with Jim Parsons. I could dig it. The thing is, if we're friends, I'm just going to invite myself to stuff. Because I assume you want me there. Because I would want you there. It's a hazard of a friendship with me. Beware introverts. Befriend with caution. I'm kind of a lot. 

Family trip to Disney!? I'm pretty sure you meant "A Family + Jenn Trip to Disney". Bonus? I'd bring my camera. 

Anniversary Vacation of a Lifetime to Paris? Surely you understand that I was once-upon-a-time fluent in French and I can still totally read the back of my shampooing bottles en francais, so it would be in your best interest to have me accompany you as a translator. Bonus, I'd bring my camera. 

Solo Overnight in NYC? I'm there, man! And bonus? Yup. I'll bring my camera.