Travel

Smiling Faces, Beautiful Places

Life is really a whirlwind, isn’t it? It’s almost 2015 and I feel like nothing has changed and everything is different at the same time.

I go to work every day. I have a job that I have fun going to. It wears me out, but I feel accomplished at the end of the day. A little stress never hurt anyone, right? I also get to see really great people day in and day out, which is kind of cool. I’m like a real adult now. It only took me 27 years.tumblr_n56bgtGoYB1qbw5o0o1_500

I recently moved from an apartment to a condo *cue Drake’s “Started from the Bottom”* which is like, really exhausting. Granted it was probably more exhausting for the two men who transported everything I own with their bare hands, but like, I had to unpack it all so…yeah. Our new pad is pretty luxe–we have a dishwasher. Need I say more?

I’m also getting mentally prepared to go on a Hawaiian vacation with my family. I’ve never been to these magical islands that everyone speaks of, but they sound too good to be true. Is the recession still happening? Because my family didn’t get the memo, I guess. I’m not stoked quite yet though, only because I’ve had a rough go with United flights this year and of course I’m booked with my arch rival airline. In a moment of weakness, after my last flight was cancelled, I tweet-yelled at their company. Yikes?tumblr_nes7tiFo811tjk07io1_1280

That’s all the news that’s fit to print. What’s new with you?

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Books

Baby Books

My mom is trying to get her house all packed up and ready to move. She’s not moving her house, but she is moving everything inside it. It’s weird–houses are just a shell. What makes it a home is really all the stuff inside. In order to lighten her load, she decided to send me some of my scrapbooks and knick-knacks from around my room. When I received my packages, one of them had a couple of baby books in it.

At first I was like, what am I going to do with my baby books? I didn’t make them. I didn’t think of them as mine. I remember looking at them years ago marveling at how cute I was when I was little. But really, how many people would be interested in looking at pictures of me as a child? Well, probably everyone.

Still, I just thought of them as more things to take up space. But I started flipping through them and my mind changed immediately. When I read the way my mom and dad talked about me, I felt so good, so loved. I wasn’t even a real person at that point , I didn’t do anything besides eat, poop, and sleep but they loved me more than anything.

I know not everyone is as lucky as I am. Some kids don’t grow up with loving parents, or parents at all. But even people with loving parents like mine don’t always take a moment to recognize what a gift it is to be born to people who love you and care for you like you’re some kind of treasure. I’m glad I have those baby books as a reminder that my parents have loved me from day one. Not that I need a reminder.

Plus, on a narcissistic note, it’s nice to have a book where I’m the main focus.

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Feelings, P0wning N3wbs

Tales of a Menace

When I was a youth (I love when people refer to themselves as “youth”) I caused a lot of trouble. Not like making messes or bullying other kids. Instead I would think of a scenario and say to myself, “What if I actually did that?” and then I would do it. And almost every time I upset someone.

I remember going into my next door neighbor’s yard to play after school one day. My brother came with me. I recall telling him to tell our neighbor, a girl his age, that giants were going to come and take her parents away. We both took her into her garage and concocted a story that would scare any 6 year old girl. She cried. We immediately said how sorry we were and how we were only joking. I didn’t realize that it would be so scary for her. Even though if someone did that to me, I would’ve freaked out.

In fourth grade, I knew my family was planning on moving. I didn’t really know how to tell my best friend, Kelly, that I was leaving. So I simply said, “I don’t want to be your friend anymore.” Looking back, I probably could’ve worded it better. Instead, she cried and I just avoided her until I moved. I really wanted to find her on Facebook and apologize for my 10 year old behavior. I haven’t been able to find her. What if she died of depression because her best friend in elementary school stopped talking to her?

Being young and stupid, I learned that cheating was the quickest and easiest way to get anything done. I remember asking a kid in my class what his answers were and he said “You’ll never learn anything if you cheat.” Actually, I learned a lot of things, like how to avoid doing homework. Well, one day, on our state capitals test, I forgot the capital of Vermont. I knew I couldn’t let that kid prove that I didn’t learn anything. So I thought fast. No, I didn’t think of the capital. But I did ask the teacher if I could go to the bathroom and then proceeded to ask a couple of girls in the bathroom what the capital of Vermont was. “Isn’t it Montpelier?” they said. “Ohhh yeah. Yes, it is!” I said, beaming. I went back to class, scribbled down Montpelier, and finished my test. All that work to prove that kid wrong, and he didn’t even notice my good grade.

From ages 12-17 I went to Girl’s Camp through my church during the summer. It was only a week long, but my friends and I would always end up getting into some sort of trouble. When I was 16, my friend and I decided it would be a good idea to play pranks on some of the camp leaders. We would sneak into their lodges (Why did they get lodges but we had to sleep outside?) and steal their stuff and hold it for ransom. We especially gave this one woman, Amanda, a hard time. Mostly because she was young and cute and had a way about her that seemed to say, “I know I’m young and cute.” She was a good sport about all the tricks we played on her. However, we knew there would be payback in store, so we bought a lock to keep our tent safe while we were away doing campy things. One day we came back and our lock had been cut right in half.  We opened our tent to find it filled with popcorn. I have to admit that it was clever. It probably took a lot of time and money to concoct such a plan. The thing is, the tent was my friend’s dad’s tent. His one rule was: ABSOLUTELY NO FOOD IN THE TENT. My friend and I panicked. But then we realized we could put all of the blame on someone else.

When we got home, my friend’s dad called Amanda and scolded her for ruining his tent. I mean, it was pretty buttery after that prank. The tent would no doubt attract every bear in the vicinity. Amanda got put in her place. Apparently she cried. That’s what she gets for stooping down to our level.

I think I’ve mostly grown out of my mean streak. It was bad when I was younger, and started to disappear as the years went on. Every now and then I’ll reminisce of the days when I liked causing trouble. I was much cooler back then.

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