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.