What My Phone's Search History Says About Me

Safari. The browser we all love to hate. It is, however, the default browser on my iPhone because I'm finding it just a smidge too ambitious to go and research how to probably very easily change it to say, Chrome. Too much effort. But anyway, I had to open a new tab on my iPhone Safari yesterday and it came to my attention that there are about a million squillion old tabs still active – and instead of deleting them all right then and there, I had this notion that taking a quick peek at my browsing history could maybe be somewhat of a character sketch for dear old me.

Ooh, but hang on – here's a plot twist. If a browsing history could be the opening chapter of a memoir, think of how telling it has to be that I chose to change from this:

(courtesy of senior wine tasting and gorgeous sunny days and etcetera) 

to this: 

for a college party. "Dress fiercely, little Animal Kingdomites," they said. "Lions, tigers, and bears, oh my!" But alas, you guys, I saw an opportunity and I ran with it. I will leave no chance of onesie-wearing behind. PS. Not that I never paid attention in fifth grade basic biology or anything, but um... what am I even? A cheetah? A leopard? A generic jungle cat? 

How's that for taking this Safari thingamajig literally?

Okay, okay. My phone's browsing history. I shall not deny you any longer. 

Google search: Chipotle hours. Because always.

Maruya | Information and menu. I have this weird quirk of always always always needing to scope out a restaurant's menu before committing to a meal. 

Secret LA Map. 

Google search: do overnight tampons exist? TMI?

Head and neck cancer. (Parents, please don't read this.) After having a chronic sore throat three times in the past month and a half, I woke up in a painful haze one night at 3:30am and proceeded to scare myself silly within the web confines of a little heaven known as WebMD. Help.

Caltrain Timetable. Fair.

Syllabus Spring for PSYCH 103. For when I needed to crank out an essay whilst stranded in a pedicure chair, 40 minutes from the deadline.

30 Delicious Things to Eat in San Francisco That Aren't Burritos. My favorite kind of Buzzfeedian torture.

Google search: how long does a DryBar appointment take.

My LinkedIn page. Narcissism. (Or, you know, the job hunt.)

Google Translate. I translated "Instagram" into Serbo-Croatian. It's Instagramu.

Russian River Events Calendar. Because I had a fleeting desire to go tubing down a river.

Google search: SF tiki bar. Important.

Google search: Bay to Breakers group costume ideas.

Google search: doubletree London.

Google search: taco bell hours. 

Google search: taco bell drive-thru hours.

HarryPotterFanfiction.com

Google search: how to pronounce ricotta.

How to Remove a Double Chin Using Photoshop. 

Best London markets | TimeOut London

What does TFW stand for | UrbanDictionary

Halo A Blow Dry Bar | Yelp

Six Word Stories

Lock-Outs: Stanford Housing. I have zero idea why I'm on this site because say what you will about me, but I've never been locked out of my room here at school. Except, okay fine, but that was one time. Freshman year. While I was wrapped in a towel.

Enough Said (film) | Wikipedia

Google search: funny and stupid Tumblr roundups.

Awkward TV show on MTV: season 5 returns

In other news, I'm pretty sure (or at least I hope) that I just now pulled my very last collegiate all-nighter. It's funny because I usually write my blog posts the night before, and have it scheduled for 6am PST. Welllllllll, it is now 5:11AM and this whole thing here took about an hour out of my precious essay writing time, but YOLO and brain break and all that. Ignore everything I've had to say this morning, because well, this is Overcaffeinated Delusion speaking.
Pray tell, what's the funniest tab on your phone browser right now?