Real life.

Social media is a tricky thing. It can present everyone in this perfect light. No one ever posts a photo of themselves with a double chin, third-degree sunburns, or the way they look the second they wake up in the morning. Rather, people want to show off their clean houses, healthy meals, and  elaborate vacations. Never mind the fact that every other room in the house is a disaster, your dinner full of air lead you to finish a pint of ice cream, and that vacation costs 4 months in the gym and 200 hours of overtime. On social media, your life can be as perfect and easy as you want it to be. I have definitely caught myself envious of other girls' lives via their social page. How does she have time to curl her hair every morning? How is she that fit when she eats out every night? What kind of salary does she obtain in order to buy those kind of outfits?

Well guys, I'm going to try to be real with you all and not present my life in some magical light. Last night was not magical. Remember how much I love my brand-spanking-new, all white, 2014 Jeep Grand Cherokee? If you don't, click here. As of almost 24 hours ago, I turned her into damaged goods. It was all my fault. She didn't deserve to be treated that way. I feel guilty looking at her knowing I am the one that caused her such heartache. But now, every time I look at her I'm reminded of what I have done.

Maybe I'm just not used to "Joanie" yet. She is a rather large woman.

We were having a nice time driving along West Village, trying to find a parking spot for Pinkberry. I was already thinking about my order, coconut frozen yogurt with strawberries and yogurt chips, and trying to avoid these two teenage girls walking slowwwwwwly in the middle of the parking garage entrance. Let's just say that Joanie and I are not the most patient women and when we get together, we wait on no one. There was just enough room to avoid the girls and turn right into the parking entrance.... or so I thought. I heard a crunch. And a scratch. My heart stopped. And then sank.

No I didn't hit the stupid teenage girls. Although I do blame them for all of this. I hit a cement pillar that was on the passenger's side of the parking entrance. I had no way of seeing it from my side of the car.

I immediately called my dad, because it just seemed like the right thing to do, and as he was explaining to me what steps I should take in this matter, it dawned on me that I had to pay for this. Oh yeah, my car insurance is in my name. I have to take my car in. I have to file the insurance claim. I have to also pay for a rental car in the mean time.

So there you have it people. I am a bad driver who is now broke. I am sorry you had to see Joanie this way. This is not her "perfect lighting" either.