Currently I am laid back, swaddled in a accumulation of blankets, watching the NCAA tournament, like any college girl of the SEC should be doing that has any sense. This being said, I am in a position that is in stark opposition to that of a couple days ago. Like so many others of my cohorts I was recently enjoying the paradise (subject to interpretation) that is college spring break. This year my friends and I made the 15 hour drive down to Fort Myers beach to enjoy a week of sun and debauchery. After spending the duration screaming to Britney Spears and Destiny’s Child we arrived without someone killing another (trust me, that is a surprise). Funny enough, K’s mom told me to not kill anyone on the trip. Only me. I must have a bigger bitch face than I thought. I am sure anyone who is packed in like sardines with 3 other diva sorority girls can feel me. But let’s talk location. Fort Myers is straight up one of the most beautiful beaches I have been on, once I could overlook the Frat boys passed out around me like slightly breathing mounds and the thong bottoms (side note, seriously what is up with those things? I do not see your naked bottom flapping around no matter how nice it is.) And oh my sweetness was it hot! Yes! So much better than PCB or Daytona. BUT we could not find nightlife anywhere. I am saying I stomped up and down the little boulevard in my wedges and sundress barging into every tiny place that looked like it might serve food and play music and there was NOTHING. I mean they did serve food, drinks (good ones), and play music but not exactly what I was looking for. All I wanted was my neon bracelet that would pair so nicely with my bangles and manicure that would claim my dedication to hitting every nightclub and desire to dance on tables. Trust me we made our own fun, but really who wants to work that hard on Spring Break?