My flight leaves in 1.5 hours. I have yet to do my hair. YES!
UPDATE: at 3:42 pm
My adventure begins with attempting to navigate the DC metro, a feat Bailey and I pull off by compensating each other's varying degrees of bad directional sense. We stand on the platform of the airport and laughingly bemoan the horrifying freezing temperature for us poor Floridians that allow us to see our breaths in the gloomy-gray atmosphere. Despite the weather, we board the right trains and cjeer ourselves for getting to our destination: a Japanese festival that gradually starts to feel like an impromptu anime convention.
Bailey gawks and laughs in confusion at the random costumes that I abashedly admit to recognizing...including Sailor Moon and Naruto. I buy a red parasol because I'm a nerd and we squat by a police car while we eat while being amazed that there were still more people coming into the festival.
At around 11 we decide that we should check into our hotel.
...About 4-FUCKING-hours, 5 sketchy-ass neighborhoods (at one point I nearly ran in the other direction except my bags would've slowed me down), and dozens of inappropriate wolf whistles and honks (from men that made me wanna drop my bags and run to the nearest police car) later, Bailey and I trudge into our hotel and collapse onto our respective beds into hysterically maniacal laughter.
"Adventure" would be an understatement. "Epic Pilgrimage" might be a little closer to the truth.
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