never too old for spring break

From one home to another home.

Here is some photo sharing (AKA…bragging) from my SPRING BREAK.

(Yes, I am 27 years old and not currently attending school, and will continue to celebrate spring break as if I was 18 on my way to Maimi, I would like to think I am contributing to the economy.)

PDX to SFO, SFO to the BART train, and BART train to coffee.


Show up to little brothers apartment, furnished with a lone sofa, and 7 or so bikes, makes sense…

and WHADDA YA KNOW, we have the same impeccable taste!

And by impeccable, I mean grime time.

(did I mention, my brother is a mind blowing artist)

48 hours later, mama is calling me to come home, so under that stained Market sidewalk, down an escalator, one train ride later, I am whisked off into the East Bay. A scenery in which I took so much for granted my first 17 years. All the orchards, the windmills, the hills, and sycamore was something I looked past, and dreamed of the big buildings, the bustling sidewalks, and cultural diversity.

Spoiled beyond belief, my eyes had a feast of spring. And then as if my heart couldn’t contain one more gushy, lovey, (I think the world is happy) moment, my mom decided to take me and baby sis out wine tasting.

Wente Vineyards is where we found ourselves. Incredible views, outstanding menu, perfect wine, outlandish prices, and gawking galore. Hey now, I did my very best mother dearest, covered my tattoos, minimized excess jewelry tendencies, and left the platforms at home, though I would most certainly not for-go the silver booties…now that is asking WAY too much.

And all of sudden, it is time for the goodbye’s. I leave home with a exploding heart of gratitude and an empty wallet. It never is enough time to see everyone you want to see. But there will be a next time.