Jacksonville: murder capital of the country. At least as of a year ago. Today we drove across most of the state of Florida. We stopped for lunch at an Italian place and our waiter's name was Alvin. He was from Texas. I guess this as soon as he talked because I loved Texan accents because of Tex, the man who saved my life last summer. The scene pictured above was going on while we were eating. The drive was long. I slept in various positions that all involved my head making an angle of at least ninety degrees to my back. Also I listen to music while I sleep and loud parts wake me up. Actually, I probably didn't sleep. The song of the day is "Title and Registration" by Death Cab for Cutie. This song reminds me of driving from Miami to Jacksonville because two years ago my dad bought Transatlanticism and we listened to it over and over again for the whole drive. And that was fine.
Liz and I just bought Jenny Lewis tickets! I am so excited to see her. My grandma says you should respect other people's opinions because "everyone rides their own train to Hell." I have to wake up at 7:10 tomorrow morning and force my body into awkward, unnatural positions that are both dangerous and embarrassing for me to attempt. Oh yeah, this is called yoga. I have no idea why I agreed to it.