The Posh Backpacker

The other night over drinks, Andrew accused me of being pretty flash for a backpacker. What can I say? Although I'm in t-shirt and shorts most of the time, I can't be blamed for having nice backpacker wear.

Well, today I just marked myself as a posh backpacker for sure. As I walked off from my $24/night accommodations, I had a decent lunch at a sit-down restaurant, and noticed there was an Aveda salon across the way. Having come here with a shitty haircut and with nearly a month of growth along the way, I couldn't resist but go in and shell out the 75 bucks for the new 'do. The scalp massage was worth it alone, and chatting w/ the uber-hottie stylist about snowboarding in Tahoe made it that much better. And 30 minutes later, I have to say, I look hawt.

Those Schoolies had better watch out!

Yikes. Actually, I've devised a way to differentiate the Schoolies from the girls who are of age: All the youngin's try their hardest to look like Paris Hilton, so it's pretty easy to pick them out and - more importantly - avoid them.

Well, that's enough internet time for today. I've got to take care of one more booking and then get back to the serious business of bolstering my tan.