I am going through a midlife crisis. Which is a crisis all by itself because this essentially means I will die at age 40, right? The cause for my crisis is the thought of the future. I only have two years of college left, and up until yesterday I had been rejected from every internship, job, and summer program that I had applied for (depressing, I know). I have two potential business plans in the works: a top secret beverage operation with my boyfriend, and a way to indulge in my love for wine with my friend Lindsay. Hopefully these two operations will take off, because once they do I have a new plan in store. Right now (and I hardly see it changing), I have my ultimate fantasy floating in a tropical coconut shaped thought bubble over my head. I will move to Hawaii, or someplace else as long as it is tropical and open up a bar\restaurant. My establishment will be on the water, and have kareoke every night. Happy hour will be all day. I will have a beautiful family and even more beautiful dog, and my dog will roam freely around my restaurant. Obviously, the restaurant will be named after my dog (that way, everyone will know my dogs name and want to meet him). I will have an excuse to live a life without shoes, without worries, and without negative connotations regarding my alcoholism. Sounds great, right? I attached a few photographs that will inspire the design of my restaurant. Investors wanted.