I Want Out...

Basically,
I've only one thing to say.
I'm tired of this one-horse town.
I want out.
I want to see people. Places. Things other than farms and the regular small town jazz.
People watching is one of my favorite things to do...
And frankly, I've seen all the people here, most of them more than once
Heck, I know half of their names!

Don't get me wrong, this is a cute, quaint little town. It has its perks...
But it's not for me. I want to see more than my corner of the world...wait, I don't even know if it's my corner, because I don't really want to be here anymore.
I'm sort of tired of the same old same old, day after day, things. Around here, if a neighbor's pet runs away...we hear about it for weeks, sometimes months. "Oh poor Mrs. VanderHook's puppy got out a few months ago. We better keep Spot here tied up for a while so he doesn't run away too!"
Yes, I'm aware that Mrs. V's little hound ran away, but I knew when it happened. Everyone knew when it happened. Doesn't mean it's going to happen to us.
Why must people in small towns get into everyone else's business? I just don't understand.
If someone is having a problem, and they ask for help, so be it. Hey, do whatever you can to help them.
But come on.
EVERYONE knows EVERYONE's problems around here.
The local 'Bad Boys' ( aka, the one's who wear black clothing and have earrings, and DON'T enjoy school) were lurking around the community tee ball picnic. Call the cops! Better yet, just have all the tee ball coaches and the big burly tee ball dads chase them off with menacing looks.
THEN, let's all talk about it for a YEAR afterward.
Anyone know the feeling?
I just want to have an adventure.
One where I don't have to ask my parents for permission.
Where I can just go somewhere, where no one knows my name or my business unless I tell it to them.
Where I don't get stuck going 10 miles an hour down the road because the farmer's combine is in front of me, for the second time this week.
Where tractors pulling trailers full of crops don't pull into the parking lot of Family Fare (the only grocery store in town), and the farmer doesn't step out of them still clad in their flannel shirts and manure-covered boots, while the tractor waits patiently in the lot for its driver to return.
Where I can wear something vintage or *gasp* even slightly high fashion, and no one tells me I look weird or silently judges me while giving me a disapproving look for breaking the local implied dress code.
Where thrift shopping can be a hobby or shared activity, not something that the local preps turn up their snouts at because the used clothing wasn't bought at the mall a half hour away and doesn't have a logo stamped on it for all to see.

I just want to go. See more of this beautiful world.
There's so much more out there, I can feel it. It's calling me.
If only I had the opportunity, or the permission. I would jump at it in a heartbeat.
For now, I just have to rely on this little thing called the internet (it's sort of a special term for the older residents, they say it with emphasis.) to start dreaming and planning my little adventure.

Letters are better...

I think I am going to write myself a letter.
I won't open it until i turn 27, ten years from now.
I want to be able to look back on this time in my life so I can always know how good I have it.
Certainly I'm not the first or last to do this, but I think it's a wonderful idea.
I might even post it on here when I am finished,
or at least parts of it.
Well, I'm off to be a scribe for myself
Lollipops and gumdrops,
Just me.

Source(http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2021/2178999260_4180de928e.jpg)

Flowers = Love?

I just discovered these spectacular bouquets made from Vintage flower jewelry.

How amazingly beautiful are they? They were originally used as a bouquet in a wedding for a more off-beat bride, but they would be fabulous anywhere in the home. I would show mine off to anyone who listened.

I'd just carry the thing around with me wherever i went. I'm going to start adding to my collection of these beauties so I can make one of my own soon!

SOURCES: Google Images

Flowers and Eiffel Towers,

Just that girl

Do you feel it?

Why is it that the simplest things can make me so happy?

Don't get me wrong, the more complex things in our world are wonderful [internet, iPods, microwave ovens, etc.], but they can't seem to make me as happy as a daisy, or a smooth piece of chocolate, or a lovely print on a piece of fabric, or even smiling at a stranger.

It's so easy for everyone to get caught up in "the rush" of life, and never slow down and look around. How many times have you looked back and wished you had done something differently? I know I can't even count that high. So I decided to make a change in my life and begin to stop and notice my surroundings, to appreciate things for the way they are.

Anything around me could be the inspiration I'm starving for.

Inspiration is my everything.

So why not keep looking for it?

Looking out my window, the sun is halfway down in the sky, ready to begin setting. It's so bright that I can't even look out for long without hurting my eyes, but it's so beautiful. That's what I feel like when I've been inspired. Like a giant ray of sunshine is radiating through me, and I have to find some way to let it out. I like to let that inspiration swirl around in my head for a while, then turn it into something beautiful.

For example, I've been inspired by looking at some beautiful photographs of simple displays that just make my heart soar. Such as this one:

[I don't own it, I got it off of Flickr]

But it makes me want to go reorganize some of my pretty things into a display like this.

And so with that, I think i will.

Birthday cakes and snowflakes,
Just another girl.

Addiction?

I think I'm addicted to thrift shopping. Literally.
I went into Valueland yesterday to find some dress up clothes for my art piece that I mentioned last week, and I ended up spending over $20 on....stuff. I did get two little dresses for the clothes, but I came out of there with a fabulous little heart shaped box covered in a vintage print, a little handmade orange horse toy, some teacups and saucers, and some amazing old books. One of them was printed in 1926! How fascinating is that? It's in great condition too. Score.
But honestly, I can't go into a thrift store without finding one or two things minimun to buy. I think it's kind of funny, my sister thinks I'm weird, and my mother thinks I'm too old for my almost 17 year old body. That makes me smile a little.
Well I have reached my time limit for today. I have so much more to say, but I have to sign off until tomorrow.
Take flight and goodnight,
Just another happy girl.

My psychology teacher showed this to our class today.
I think this boy is spectacular, and I can't get enough of watching his videos!

http://www.youtube.com/watch#playnext=1&playnext_from=TL&videos=IhO5O1xDjGg&v=9wceKiDBjFM


Ladybugs and coffee mugs,

Dear Me,

I'm feeling extremely inspired today
I just spent almost an hour gazing at Loveology, my new favorite place to go in the entire webworld.
It's wonderful.
It's pretty much anything and everything I like.
I find myself wishing that I wasn't American,
Americans tend to have a bad reputation, and I wish it wasn't so
I admire the proper behavior and carefree spirit of the European culture [that I've been exposed to, at least]
I'm sitting here trying to come up with ideas for my next art project: involving an old, red suitcase, some beautiful fake flowers, some old junk from this lovely junk shop named Phil's Stuff, and possibly a teacup.
I just realized that almost all of my sentences have begun with an "I"
Oh well =]
I'm going to go have some fun wading through all this inspiration fluttering around in my head
Love and Teacups xxx

Soul Searching

I'm feeling under the weather today. I stayed home from church with the family. I've come to the realization that church was never really my thing. Even telling myself over and over that it was the way I had to live my life, wasn't enough. Because deep down, I think I always knew that the religion I'd been taught since I took my first breath wasn't necessarily the truth. Why did I keep going with it all these years? Who knows. It's a number of reasons. For one, if you teach a child anything from the time they're born, are they really going to question it? If the kid trusts their parents, they're going to believe that what they say is true. You could tell them that they actually came from a plant in the ground, and if enough people agree with you and tell them the same thing, chances are the kid is going to believe it. Is that right? Not my place to say.
I never felt like I was in the same loop with all my fellow church-goers either. They always talked about all these amazing "God experiences" and how they felt "God was leading" them to do something, and I kept thinking, "Where's my story like that?" Never did I tell anyone about those doubts because if I questioned it, I'd get guilted. My parents would say, "Jesus knows what you're thinking." Well if he does, then why doesn't he actually help me? Because I'd never been good at the whole Practice-What-You-Preach thing either. Probably because I wasn't good at the preaching part. When people would ask me questions about my "faith," I kind of just stumbled around and spit out some Sunday School answers. If you think about it, anyone can rattle off some textbook answers and things that all the other Church people say, but 99% of the time, none of them really feel what they say. They don't listen to it or take the time to think about it. It all comes back to them hearing something so many times, that they just take it as truth.
I can't explain how it all happened, because it was really a painful experience, but more and more everyday, I keep thinking that the whole church/religion part of my life was a lie. I said a lot of things I didn't really mean, and attended a lot of events and services that I never really got anything out of. In a way, I sort of feel like I've wasted so much of my time already that I'll never get back. Honestly, the whole afterlife-Heaven-and-Hell thing doesn't really make any sense. No one actually knows what will happen when we close our eyes for good. Not a single person. Because if we did know, what would be the point of being here? So the way I see it, why should we spend our time worshipping someone or something and living our lives according to all these rules, if we have absolutely no way to know if it will actually bring us a pleasant afterlife, or any afterlife at all? Why shouldn't we just live our lives...here comes the cliché saying...like we're dying. We truly have no idea whether we'll wake up tomorrow, or if we'll even live to take another breath. I could theoretically keel over right now and never type another letter. That's how little we know about our futures.
Which is why I don't want to waste anymore time believing in something that really doesn't benefit me in any way shape or form. I'll take care of myself, and do my absolute best, but if I die tonight, I want to know that I didn't waste any more time than I already have.
Speaking of wasting time...I have a lovely Statistics assignment calling my name from the dark depths of the textbook I shoved it in on Friday. Oh goody.
Class rings and shiny things,

Walking into a thrift store yesterday, I almost fell flat on my face. The good news is, the store happened to be Valueland: a dingy, eccentric, and outdated but loveable thrift center. I don't know if there's a store on the planet where the people in it couldn't care less whether you happen to trip on air walking up to its doors. But I must say, regardless of its status in the eyes of the people around here, it happens to be my favorite place to go when I'm in need of some cheering up. It doesn't have a reputation for being the cleanest, most up-to-date establishment in the area, but it never lets me down.
The things inside of that store never fail to make me smile. All the outdated and ridiculous clothes, the horrible but somehow fascinating furniture, even the mismatched and patterned collection of houseware items, are always original and not once have I found something there that I liked, and then found it somewhere else. It just doesn't happen. By far my favorite find from any thrift store was from Valueland. I went in there to find an old Christmas sweater for a White Elephant gift, because let's face it, as much as I love the store, they've always got ugly clothes to spare. After looking, I wasn't finding anything that I fancied in the women's section, and on my way over to the men's side, my eye just fell on this suitcase. Not just any suitcase, oh no. This suitcase was blue, perfect size for just carrying things around in because you can, and splashed in a loud, multicolor 70's floral print. Now, I only had a few dollars on me, and I couldn't buy both a sweater and that gem of a suitcase, but I was in love the second I saw it. And the fact that it didn't smell like it had stored wet socks in it for thirty years was just one more reason to adore it. It was something I knew was a once in a lifetime find, and I just couldn't pass it up.
So needless to say, I marched out of that store, suitcase in hand, and I huge grin on my face. My joy grew when my mom rolled her eyes at me when she saw my treasure. She knows that it's impossible for me to go into a thrift store and not come out with something, and usually that something is unusual and out of ordinary. She's still not used to that. I don't think she ever planned on her daughter wanting to shop in used clothing stores rather than at the mall. But what can I say? They have unmatchable better prices, and I know for a fact that no one is going to show up wearing the same outfit as me. I can't help but not love every inch of thrift stores.
The only exceptions are usually Goodwill. No offense to them, especially since I'm just one person, but I'm not a fan of their clothes. All the clothes they have there are simply outdated, not vintage or fun. Once in a while I'll come out of there with something classic or still in style, but as far as finding fun, real vintage gold, they don't score so high with me. BUT, they always have good "stuff." By stuff I mean teacups, jewelry, old toys, and just junk. It's definitely fun to look.
So that's it. My very first entry. Good? Probably not. Sufficient? Maybe. Oh, well. Maybe they'll get better, or maybe I'll be the only one to ever read this. No matter, I will continue to write about my marvelous and sometimes treacherous adventures.
Love and Hugs.