Here’s a fun fact that should all make us feel ancient: it’s been 3 years since I touched down in the Heathrow airport à la Mary Kate and Ashley in Winning London. It was January 2013, and I was a 20-year-old girl entering a city of 8 million strangers with tragic dental hygiene. Naturally, being my overconfident and optimistic self, I was undeterred by the fact I didn’t know a single soul and reasoned that, worst-case scenario, I could adopt a British accent and masquerade as my more attractive doppelgänger, Keira Knightley. At that point, Madrid had been my stomping ground for a good 5 months (shout out to my host family, Carmen’s Brothel) and I was addicted to the sensation of being gone more days than being home.
Fast forward to December 2015, and I had returned to California’s classiest city, San Diego, graduated college (or “uni” as I say now that I’m cultured AF), moved to Long Beach (I had been listening to a lot of Sublime lately), then relocated again to LA’s Westside – approximately 5.8 miles away from the new Santa Monica Dunkin’ Donuts… not that I mapped it or anything. That would be weird.
So why resurrect this hot mess of a blog you, my dedicated reader, asks? Short answer: I’m a narcissist and love the sound of my own voice… er, writing. Long answer: after an all-too-long hiatus, I reunited with my former love – Europe – and hope to jot it all down before it slips from my memory. My brain cells have been going fast from my steadfast dedication to mild alcoholism, so it’s now or never, as they say.
In all seriousness, storytelling is one of my life’s greatest passions (second only to pretending it’s my birthday at Rainforest Cafe and signing my friends up for ChristianMingle and BlackPeopleMeet.com), and it makes my mom happy, so why not? So here’s a highlight reel of 2015. These entries will mostly center around my Eurotrip shenanigans, but as an added bonus, I tossed in some LA-based stories where you can just as easily judge me and question my life choices. I’m a giver that way.
Warning: this blog reveals my true personality.
To those who know me, I’m an extrovert to the extreme. (My alter ego is Bad Girl Riri, after all.) To those who don’t, I often come across as reserved and, dare I say it, even nice. Why? Because I know all too well my personality sometimes takes some easing into. I need time to test out strangers and determine if they can handle my colorful (as my 8th grade English teacher would say) brand of humor. It’s a necessary precaution. Please note that if we’ve met on countless occasions and I still seem quiet, it’s safe to assume I don’t like you and am silently plotting your demise in my future bestselling memoir.*
Moral of the story: these are my unfiltered and probably obnoxiously detailed thoughts, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. Cheers!
*Dimples and Debauchery: An Arianna Adams Story, in stores Fall 2060
The Art of Being Basic 