Bobby Box

When I was in high school the O.C was on the TV of every suburban household and girls were on the hunt for their own Seth Cohen. Sensing I fit the mold (except the Jewish part), I thought I would draw from Cohen’s geeky, yet charming disposition. With an already existent love for Death Cab and a new, somewhat regrettable interest skinny jeans, I was confident that I’d be throwing a rose ceremony in no time.

On my way home, I noticed I was dripping beads of tan and had to be at my cousins wedding in less than an hour. On the remainder of the drive, I traveled with my head out of the window, (an appropriate action for a dog, but very dangerous for a person.) I kept reminding myself, “pain is beauty” or in this case, a possible decapitation.