The Road is Calling

I need to go on a road trip.

It's much needed.

I’m not talking any old, sort of road trip. I’m talking the kind where you stop at a gas station, fill up your tank, grab a bunch of snacks (my personal faves for driving trips are Gardettos, Pringle’s, Gummy Worms, and Jolly Ranchers), get a large cup of coffee, put a great mix of tunes on the radio, roll down the windows, and just go! Unless it’s the dead of winter, you probably won’t want to roll your windows down. Heck, if it’s the dead of winter, you’re probably not to gung-ho about driving. But, regardless, whether you’re jumping into your car alone or with a slew of friends, just pump up the music and go.

Chewy, fruity, and delicious.

I know this sudden urge to drive somewhere with no definite destination is due to this immaculate sunshine I walked into once I was done with classes for the day. Add an entire dance class listening to 90s music, I felt like my old self again for a short period of time. You know who I’m talking about…The girl who is always smiling, laughing obnoxiously loud at pretty much everything, tripping over her own to feet, jamming out to any music she hears, quick to offer her opinion be it good or bad, and carrying herself with a sense of pride and purpose.

That girl had been missing from my life for the last couple of weeks (or dare I say, months) and I just hate it.

Where did you go, and when are you coming back?

Lately, I snap at people for almost no reason, I’m always on the verge of tears, I wake up with my first thought of the day being when I can crawl back under the covers, I’m eating when I’,m not hungry, and I’d rather spend time alone than with other people. And the people I would like to spend my time with, I barely utter two words to them because my mind is consumed by a million and one things. My brain never stops, and it’s getting really annoying. I’m pretty sure I have anxiety. No one should be this tired all time. Well, if they’re pulling all-nighters consistently, then yes, they would be this tired. But you get my point.

“I always said I was like those round-bottomed circus dolls — you know, those dolls you could and push down and they’d come back up? I’ve always been like that.”

Normally I would agree with my self-perception like the marquee maven, Doris Day.

The original bounce-back girl

But, lately, I just don’t feel like me, and people are beginning to notice.

I'm going to turn into a real fatty if I don't stop eating my feelings.

My sister shouldn’t have to send me text repeatedly telling me that she’s willing to listen to me when I’m ready to talk about whatever is bothering me. She also reminds me that she loves me. I might not say it enough, but she really is a great sister, and I hope I can do her wedding justice by being the Maid of Honor. I shouldn’t have coworkers asking me what’s wrong on a daily basis because I snapped ast one of them two minutes after I walked in the door with a smile on my face. I shouldn’t be posting emo-ish statues on Facebook to express myself. I shouldn’t be living off coffee and fast food.

I need my ray of sunshine to come back to me, and for a short time, I felt like it did. Even if it was only  as I filled up my gas tank, grabbed a fat-filled caramel latter for SuperAmerica, turned up the latest album of the Rascal Flatts, and just hit the road (to my apartment…ha!), it still felt good. Singing my heart out like no one could hear me, except a few could when I stopped at a light. Their faces were priceless!

Belt it out! No one is around to hear you anyways!

At the same time, it was a moment of melancholy. My years as a student are coming to an end. I’ll be a real-live adult soon enough, and it’s scary. I have loans, medical bills, credit cards, and living expenses to worry about now. Just utterly ridiculous, real life is. But, I’m warming up to the journey. You only get one life, right?

Diamond tiaras look good on me. Don't ask me how I know. I just do.

Unless reincarnation is a real thing. I’m hoping to come back as a princess, a movie star, the President’s wife…you know, a position with power and influence

Growing up has also meant getting jobs to help me support myself. Because I’m working an insane amount of jobs, it doesn’t leave much free time in the evenings or on my weekends. I’ve been craving the need to go home for some time now. Being home on the farm always seems to put things in perspective for me. Returning to my roots reminds me of who I am, and it helps lift my up when I’m feeling down, even if all I do when I’m home is milk the cows or clean out their pens filled with manure. Hard work builds character. It’s how I was raised. It’s not something you wake up and forget. You actually wake up remembering how fit and certain you were in everyday life before you made the choice to move away to a city where farming barely exists.

Whoever thought I would miss the cows, the chores, and the sweat saw something in me back then I never did. Senior year of high school? I was so done listening to my dad give a list of chores to do every single day, done with sitting on a tractor for hours and hours (the only benefit being getting a killer tan…and killer tan lines along with it), and so done with being on his time and not my own.

These cute little guys taught me patience. Believe it or not, they are not cooperative at all.

Goes to show how little I appreciated everything he did for me, and how little I recognized how much I was learning from it. Now, when my dad or brother call to ask me if I could come home to do chores for a weekend, I do what I can to be there. But, with three jobs, it’s not so easy to just jump in the car and drive home once I’m done with classes for the day.

It sucks, quite frankly. I’ve never wanted to jump in my car to head for home so badly as I did this afternoon.

Yes, I really do wear a hat like this.

You can take the girl away from the country, but you can’t take the country away from the girl.

On a different note, congratulations to making it through the week to Friday! YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS! Fist pumping everywhere! So, you  know what that means? Fabulous Friday is here so inspire you through the weekend, and maybe ignite brilliance for the week laying ahead. But, for now, we’re going to enjoy the weekend that is only just beginning.

Here’s is what is making my Fabulous Friday:

Fabulous Boyfriend Advice:

Fabulous Decor Idea:

Puzzle piece backgrounds give a very modern feel to any room.

Fabulous Giggle:

Scandal Alert! C-3P0 and Leia are going in for the kiss! What is Han going to say about it?

Fabulous Flashback:

"Did I do that?" Classic 90s TV show!

Fabulous Spring Cocktail: Find the recipe here!

Pomegranate and White Wine Spritzter! Doesn't it just sound refreshing?

Fabulous Man of the Moment:

Forgive me, but I couldn’t single it down to one. So, instead, I’m giving you two to enjoy.

 

I'm still on a Titanic kick. So, of course, Leo is a part of this!

Hello, Handsome!

Fabulous Words of Wisdom:

Fabulous Dream:

Caught it at just the right time. Beautiful.

Fabulous Jedi Training:

Have you seen the commercials for this thing?!

Fabulous Smile:

I think he's learning the rules so he can break them

Fabulous Girl Power Reminder:

Fabulous Future:

This is probably what I’m going to be like at 80 years old. You’ve all been warned…

You can’t see it where you are, but I’m raising my glass to all of you this evening. Thank you for stopping in and checking out what I have to say, whether about a current topic or a rant about my daily life which can range from utterly exciting to dull enough to kill an acorn.

Continue to thrive and continue to train. We only become better if we work on it. I’m working on becoming a bona fide adult. It’ll take years, let’s be honest. I’m too much of a kid at heart (and mind) to fully become an adult in every way, shape or form.

Staying fit is key to a healthy lifestyle. Plus, it keeps you prepared.

I’m missing home tonight, but I’ll rest easy. Why? Because it all else fails, I know I have a place to run to, to drive to when the urge strikes.

You always know your way home.

Nothing like a twin sun sunset.

It’s the Breast!

Given my recent evening spent with New Guy, it has brought an important topic to mind. When I walked into his apartment, we shared a kiss and gave the usual formalities. “Hi, how are you?” “How was the drive?” “How was work today?” “What would you like for dinner?”

I need one of these.

Not only is this the normal way to start a conversation, but I feel it was also partially due to the fact New Guy’s roommate was sacked out watching The Simpson’s on the couch when I walked through the door. I saw the way he tensed up when I started talking about how I hope to sleep with the Best Man at my sister’s wedding (Note: I was completely and utterly joking with this comment!)

Anyways, I brought my small bag upstairs and New Guy followed me up there. Wasn’t expecting that. As soon as he walks into his bedroom behind me, New Guy makes this particular comment after giving me a squeeze and we share a bit more of a personal conversation: “Have your boobs grown since the last time I’ve seen you? They look way bigger.”

….Um….What…Really?

This is exactly the moment that took place. Minus the boob job.

I haven’t seen you in 1.5 weeks, let alone talked to you beyond text message and IM  chatting, and that’s the observation you have for me? Have my boobs grown?

Let me be the first to say, I heart my girls. I show them lots of love. In fact, I have my very own nickname for them: the Twin Suns (of Tatooine, if you don’t get where I’m going here.) If you have never been to Victoria’s Secret, you are not treating your ta-ta’s with respect. It’s a little spendy, yes, but that’s only at first. Once you sign yourself up at the register, you constantly get coupons by email, by snail mail, and everywhere else. I am done advocating for Victoria’s Secret now.

My inspiration

I have been told I have a great pair by a large part of the male population. Now, by far, I don’t have the largest set in the world. I have the perfect size in fact. Not to big, not too small. Large enough to give me shape in any shirt I wear, be it a baggier t-shirt or a tight fitting sweater. V-necks are my best friend, and dress shopping is WAY too fun because I fill out each style quite nicely.

Best compliment I have probably received? When I starred in a production of “Stop Kiss” and wore nothing but a T-shirt on-stage. Just me and my plain gray T-shirt. It probably helped, too, that I also wore a deep plunging dress in another scene. Again, no time to throw on a bra…just me and the dress. After opening night, people gave me hugs and said “Wow, not only do you have nice legs…but damn, your chest is nice.” This came from more women than men on opening night. And no, I’m 99% sure they were not lesbians.

But seriously, I should be proud of my body. Au natural, baby. I’m glad guys appreciate them, but is it really all guys notice? New Guy has been caught numerous times looking down my shirt or at my chest versus what I’m talking about at that moment. Face facts: men’s brains are hard-wired for a wide variety of reasons to notice this specific area of the female body over any other.

You're not loving yourself if you haven't at least tried one from V.S.

The fascination with breasts, however, will forever be a mystery to me. Yes, as a woman, I have my breasts around 24/7. Everything a guys wishes to do to a pair, I do every day without a second glance. They’re just there. Yet, no matter how much a guy says he likes *you*, I have to feign trust in his words…because he probably likes *me* as long as my breast size doesn’t change. An ex-boyfriend of mine told me if I got breast cancer at any time in my life, he would break up with me (I do believe he was joking about this, but still. RUDE…and a bit of a jerk. Probably why we broke up.)

Love them. Cherish them. Save them.

One teaching of the of the Jedi is to accept where we are in the moment, and the things we cannot change. I cannot change the size of my chest…unless I lose a drastic amount of weight. However, I’m not doing that because I would turn anorexic if I dropped another 15 pounds. I cannot change the way the male brain functions. Women have been trying for years. Few have been successful. Hopefully, the men will reach a point in their lives where they realize they have to look a girl in the face and genuinely look her in the eye in order for us to fully respect them.

But that’s a gripe that been around since the Battle of the Sexes started.

If you see me, or any woman for that matter, admire her and her physical beauty. By all means, appreciate her and what the Force has bestowed upon her. I’m sure she’s proud of her body, too. Just treat her like a real human being, and not a pair of walking boobs with legs.

As a Jedi, I am taught to respect all shapes and forms of life. But I am not afraid to deliver a blow or three to your manly parts for being offensive or handsy. I will stand up for myself. Male race: you have been warned.

In the words of Pamela Anderson, an actress of advanced proportions: “My breasts have had a brilliant career. I’ve just come along for the ride.”

Guess where the fellas are going to look?