Growing up, my mother was never home on my birthday because my birthday usually falls during the finals of the Indian Wells Masters. For those of you who are unfamiliar (all of you), it is one of the biggest tennis tournaments on the circuit. Every year for all of time, my mother and her friends have gone to the desert to watch tennis, play tennis, talk tennis, go mom dancing at this nightclub at the Marriott, and lay by the pool. This really pissed me off as a kid because we never celebrated my birthday on my birthday.
Now it really pisses me off because this fucking tournament ruins any chances of me booking anything in Palm Springs for my birthday. I try every year and not once have I been able to book anything. Sure, I suppose I could drop $700, but I COULD ALSO NOT DO THAT BECAUSE YES HI THAT IS MY RENT.
THIS IS INCREDIBLY FRUSTRATING TO ME BECAUSE, PALM SPRINGS IS MY FAVORITE PLACE AND I CAN’T GO ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY. FUCK YOU INDIAN WELLS MASTERS. YOU WILL NEVER STOP RUNING MY BIRTHDAY.
FINALLY. MY INTERNET EXISTENCE VALIDATED. THOUGHT I WAS GONNA DIE BEFORE I MADE IT ON A LIST.
I don’t copy and paste my work, and of course I’m using a new platform THAT I PAID GOOD MONEY FOR, the internet eats four wine reviews and an hour & a half of work that I can never get back. Literally cried.
Really for realing thinking I fucked up and I should never have left Napa where vintners and somms know me and think I’m a hilarious wine expert and I got to be a super baller and now I’m just back here running other people’s errands for a living. THIS IS REALLY HARD FOR ME, I SHOULD BE DRINKING WINE AND EATING CHEESE IN TEN MINUTES IN A PRIVATE CELLAR TUCKED AWAY IN SONOMA AND MAKING JOKES ABOUT SAUVIGNON BLANC.
The only important question in life, TBH