Missing: my flip flips
Hurting: my esophagus

I think I've pretty much said it all. My flip flops were stolen this weekend, which was fun seeing as I had no shoes for the ride home. No big when you have to walk into a public restroom right? Just so you know... I am properly sanitized now. I don't think I'm bothered by the fact that now I have to buy a new pair of flip flops and break them in because truth be told... they were old navy ones that cost me $3 or so. I think, I miss the memories that I had with those flip flops. I know that sounds ridiculous... but when I say I live in my flip flops... I mean it. Trust me, I'm a flip flops year round kinda girl. Just ask the people on campus who pointed and thought I was crazy when it was the middle of winter and I was parading around campus wearing these like a badge of honor. With that said... good thing I have a digital camera to document these memories rather than a pair of flip flops that somebody stole. PS: who steals flip flops these days?

Oh, have you ever had your esophagus stepped on? Because I have. And it HURTS... a lot. Thanks to my 10 year old cousin who is not so awesome right now (who normally would be) I became a victim of his esophagus stomping parade. By stomping parade I mean an accident that only happened to me because that's just my luck... However, this will just be another weird story that goes hand in hand with the time my good friend Carden punched me in the ovaries while intoxicated not ONCE... but TWICE.