"She's got a ticket to ride and she don't care." Beatles bumping, spirit flapping, and mind buzzing, she does it again.I'm trapped. Strapped. Secluded. Isolated. I need out. Need something new. "I'm begging you to be my escape." After watching relationships of ones I love, my heart bled for their misery. This was especially true when I inquired of the reason for starting the relationship. My level of astonishment couldn't be measured. This isn't a romantic comedy where the music shift foreshadows the revelation of the protagonist. This music was never turned up. They exchanged their dreams of "happily ever after" for 5 minute sex and a cigarette after or a sunset with nightmare laughter. They jumped out of singleness, painted gloomy into taken, shackled with diamonds. No one bothered to chip away at the paint, they just wanted a highway to happiness. I can't blame them--- certainly sounds like a highway I would set the cruise to 90 on. But, what the signs don't tell you is this is not "the" highway to happiness, there are always alternative modes of transportation to achieve this ultimate goal. The signs offer no warning that the road may take you to a similar fog from happiness you're currently enduring. Daylight and Sunlight are NOT the same thing!I recently learned this difference in both Prague and Reykjavik.... but, I'm getting ahead of myself here. Some people feel that they would have it all if they just had a significant other. That mentality leads to settling and agreeing to that person because of a delicate equation of time spent+morals-patience/time left. This isn't proven with mathematics or science, but just what I've noticed from women (and one man) that I respect and used to admire--- idolize their marriage. Prior to this observation, I was venturing out into new states and opportunities, hoping to be rerouted with a "good find." For the right person, I was open to slowing up so we could prepare to launch somewhere together. My imagination scribbled plans of following his job and starting anew a build a network because he would already have our direction. It wasn't until the corruption of the marriages I adored loosened their bandages that I removed my gaze from cloud-framed imagination and I amped-up my hustle. Put in longer hours, said no dates (while spending no effort on excuses to suitors), and cut my spending in half. Put up signs for a garage sale and hit the library in the Non-Fiction section. After pouring over 10% of the geography books 3 branches in Fort Worth had to offer, I spread my wings to Dallas and received notice from a friend with a mutual obsession for travel. A week later, it was official: I had my own ticket to ride. .....Actually, I got 7 tickets to ride. On Christmas Eve, I kissed my family, tradition, and a ham feast goodbye as I boarded a 787 Dreamliner to London. Nontraditional, not regrettable, and inevitably unforgettable. For the next 19 days, Prague, Brussels, Bruges, Dublin, Howte, Glasgow, Edinburgh, and Reykjavik became my temporary home. I became my own ticket and took my imagination for a ride. There is more that fuels you than a significant other; find it and pursue it passionately. Be Your Own Escape like the Blue Lagoon was to me in 32 degree weather in Iceland.
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How do you react to rejection?Do you wave your hands in the air (or wave them in the air, like you just don't care)? Do you breakdown like an '87 Oldsmobile with a self-esteem as busted as your radiator? Do you catch on fire like a Samsung Note 7 at 32,000 feet? Or do you suck it up like lemon seeds at the bottom of grandma's lemonade? This guy was certainly not the latter.... I've gotten to the point where rejection from guys is the least of my worries. Rejection from jobs of my dreams, rejection from buttoning my favorite Levi's, rejection from a sold out show, and rejection from the gate when boarding closes 15 minutes before takeoff when you thought it was 10 are FAR more of a travesty. It's all about frame of mind and honey, mine is now bedazzled!Gosh, I love this quote! My other favorite quote about arrows is something to the effect of: 1 stick salted butter
1 cup packed brown sugar 3/4 cup real maple syrup 1/4 teaspoon baking soda 1 cup cooked, crumbled bacon (not bacon bit shit lol) 2 ounces bourbon (1 for mixing and 1 for shooting)
Since once again I'm on the move, I figured I could share a brief post of encouragement I've found in my travels....In no relation to Linkin Park, I found this beauty in Manhattan one night in September on the way to dinner.In a Dallas library, more specifically "the hood" aka Oak Cliff, I found this beautiful dedication. Find beauty everywhere, friends-- especially in singleness.A map contains infinite road ways to my heart; mine presently has 9 countries and counting.My road of singleness is a blessing. Being the sole navigator to my next destination is liberating.How else would I be able to:
Living abroad taught me that I can adapt to almost anything. I'm kind of a bad ass bitch (no DNA test needed) and a force to be reckoned with because I survived the alleged sex trafficking and terrorism in Europe. I actually enjoy spending time with myself, which is contrary to how I felt before this trip. I learned I don't want to tolerate life, but enjoy it. My initiative on this trip proves that I have the power to change anything that makes me unhappy my life, within reason of course. I also learned, not in a feminist way, but empowering way that I don't need a man. Like fighting this societal trend of pressuring you to feel like you need someone else to be complete when you're rapidly approaching the age of 30. I didn't let myself down. And honestly, people thought I would be home sick and get sex trafficked or kidnapped or would have you and I had nothing but great stories to come back with and a certain fulfillment that I wasn't even looking for.... Like the dots on a map, the raspberries are just that; sweet upon meeting and tart upon departure. Cake:
Glaze & Decoration:
Let's pretend allowing you to take me to my favorite Disney movie in live action didn't mean everything; you found my "nerding out" adorable. Let's pretend I didn't want to climb all 6 foot 4 inches of you and drown in those damn turquoise eyes. Let's forget about your constant laughter at any wink of humor that spilled from my burgundy stained lips. Let's pretend I didn't see this coming when you disclosed your hometown is nestled "deep in the heart of Texas." [I have such a history from guys that took a toll: all but one or two originated from Texas] Let's pretend I wasn't the first girl to tell you no, and that's why you sprung for date #2. Let's pretend you weren't impressed with my internal music encyclopedia. Let's pretend I didn't catch on to your inconsistency in stories, priorities, and ex-fiance. Let's disregard your failure to mention you lived in another state. Let's pretend we never went to the beach that Sunday morning after coffee. Let's pretend I didn't notice where your eyes settled when you saw me in a swimsuit. Let's not revisit the shame your reaction had on my self image, self esteem, and well.... my...self. Let's not highlight the disgust you exhibited and how you refused to touch me. Let's pretend that although I had built up confidence in my internal attributes and sunshine smile, it wasn't built to weather this kind of disapproval. Let's pretend I wasn't raised on measuring up (or the lack their of). Let's pretend that I, like most the girls I know, didn't battle body dismorphia. Let's pretend I didn't watch the woman I idolized shrivel to bones and thin skin because of exterior circumstances spurred by internal ones. Let's pretend you were concerned with anything other than bringing me back home like a troubled youth you were stuck with for community service. Let's pretend I've thought of you TWICE since that Sunday.... oh, because I haven't. Whether you wanna splurge on a dessert without as many calories or you just happen to have the ingredients on hand, here is a "Skinny" Chocolate Chip Cheesecake Bar Recipe.
A $45 parking ticket, rejection letter from Phase 4 of the job you were dreaming of, and news you'll have to be in "the boot" for 2 broken toes 2 more weeks couldn't contribute more to the notorious "Manic Monday." When the door AND windows seem closed.....Since my soul never quite seemed kindred to one place and I have a fervid fascination with strange places and foreign people, I believed being a Flight Attendant would be my calling. Our neighbors are strangers until we engage them. My best friend I sat next to on the bus and began cracking jokes with was once stranger. The most influential boss I've ever had was a stranger until she hired me. My ex's were all once strangers... and are yet strangers once again. I've never seen the word as negative, but almost as alluring. As a child, I earned the reputation of a leader and if no one followed, I slowed my momentum only slightly. I've never followed high fashion or most mainstream music. My own father called my strange this week since I can fit (strategically) everything I own into my silver Honda Civic. Strange is familiar and maybe, just maybe that's the reason I feel so comfortable in cities that have never heard my steps. This desperation for new environments, cultures, and entrees drove me to apply to 9 airlines to become a flight attendant. What better way to meet as many diverse people and see as many cities on someone else's dime than to be the eye in the sky!? Well, after I never heard from 6 of them, I waited eagerly for Delta, since I've passed 3 phases since August. Today, that journey ended for this application. Sure, I can try again next season... As "You Had a Bad Day" bounces in my cranium, I can't help but feel this rejection trumps any prior boy rejection I've had this year. Quite frankly... I can only recall two.... One was Mr. Makes me feel like a Barbie and the latter was flip a girl for her friend. Apparently flipping a coin just wouldn't do.... Now that we've had a good laugh and a bittersweet memory jogger (doesn't possess the endurance to be a runner), I smile from the encouraging texts from friends and sigh. Sigh and smile. Like a Cars' song, this was "just what I needed." <3
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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