That's the only song still playing everywhere in South Beach and YES my friend Annabelle and I just bought matching shirts that said so after burning our noses whilst laying out at the ritziest hotel pool in Miami.
We snuck in. We can afford a trashy shirt that says we're here, but we can't be here, really.
It's okay. We've got the proof. Uneven tan lines, neon shirts and empty wallets as we trudge through the sludge on our way back home.
Mind's in Miami. Body's back in NYC. Pics to come, after the mountain of work emails is hacked in half. Okay by 10% at least...
1 comment:
Welcome home mama
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