My mom and I are driving to San Diego for the day after, of course, waking up late (due to last nights shenanigans) and trying to get some work done. We pack up my car around 2pm with all the random stuff that I no longer want, that my mom is taking to her storage unit (little Ms. Packrat as I like to call her). She has three storage units, plus everything she has packed at my grandparents place in Long Beach and at my brother’s house in Eastern Washington. I love her to death and she’s an amazing woman, but boy does she have stuff (and you can’t call it junk, or she’ll get mad).

So, my car is packed, I check my mail (J had sent me something so I could get it right when I moved in, how sweet) – nothing but junk. My mom decided she will drive us to San Diego since she knows exactly where we’re going. As she backs up, BAM! She smashes my backend into a tall curb (I have no idea why the curbs in LA are twice as high as the curbs in Seattle). I, very frustrated and annoyed, get out of my car to check the back for damages, nothing I can see, but she did hit my exhaust pipe… urgh! She of course apologizes, thinking she had plenty of room to back up.

As we head down my street she starts to drive a little crazy, not LA driver crazy (because that’s how I drive), but worse – we almost got hit by a car (side note – last night on Highland as we just got off the 101, a car almost side swiped me, I was sooo pissed off, adrenaline pumping. If they would have hit me, I would have kicked some ass, literally, then maced their face!), then we almost rear ended another car, WTF! She thinks I am a crazy driver (I learn from her, I guess) and she worries about me texting and driving (guilty, but only sometimes), yet she has a hard time driving with no distractions.

Of course as soon as we hop on the 5 (I-5 for all you non-LA speakers) we hit traffic. She’s pissed; its 2:30 traffic shouldn’t be this bad. I remind her that we are in LA. She then starts complaining (I swear she’s turning into my nana, her mom) about how motorcycles driving down the middle, cutting in and out of traffic should be illegal because they are easy to accidently hit when you are trying to switch lanes because they come out of nowhere (even after you’ve looked and checked your blind spot). I admit, I do agree with her on this, it is dangerous. She then goes on to complain that LA county (and probably all of California) pays too much to keep the streets clean (my street gets cleaned on Thursdays and Fridays between 8am-10am). I could really care less about this topic, except for the annoyance of having to move my car to the opposite side of the street so I do not get a ticket. I figure if they did not come and clean the streets, we would probably have trash, cigarette butts, druggie needles and dirt piling up.

As we are driving I’m getting more and more annoyed with my spaghetti strap tank, my right should strap keeps falling off, urgh! I also have to use the ladies room, I’m hungry, her driving is making me nauseas and I cannot write because of the bumpiness.

We did however pass Disneyland and that made my heart happy, such great memories. I’m laughing at my GPS because it thinks it will take us 4 hours to get to San Diego, when even with traffic the longest it has taken me (besides once on Thanksgiving day which took me 6 hours) is 3 hours, but normally 2.5 and sometimes if I leave early in the morning or late at night, it only takes me 2 hours, ha!

FUCK, my left strap just fell down, URGH. At least APW (http://www.myspace.com/andrewpaulwoodworth) is playing throughout my car… nevermind. My mom just changed the CD to Rascal Flatts, sorry Andrew. *Lindsay and I must see another show, maybe when Heidi visits if he’s playing.*

We Finally arrive in San Diego and meet up with my mom’s ex husband/current lover at On The Boarder, a Mexican restaurant.