The Weekly: Life and Love and a Vintage Peasant Dress
If I was to speak on my life (which is a confusing start as I obviously am) I would first remind you that life is a pursuit of happiness. If it helps to minimize the cheesiness I would ask you to read that in Morgan Freeman's voice (please!). If it’s impossible for the cheesiness to be cut then I’d say let’s go full out (cheesy music, doves peacefully flying by, the works!).
I say this quote as it’s something that I haven't heard in awhile. Instead, I would say I have heard so many destination driven sentences that I feel as if I am a chartered cruise ship sailing to and fro from a checklist of locations. Arrive to work at this time. Do school work by this time. Make up for the time spent checking off this list later.
I write this as I feel as if I’m at the last part of a charted path I am meant to take. It’s the end of the school years (possibly) and all around me the responsibilities are stacking up.
Is any one else feeling completely overwhelmed by expectations?
In terms of love I feel as if everyone is in the pursuit of something.
I wouldn’t even say I’m the pursuit of love and maybe instead I’m in the pursuit of being on track.
The idea of where I “should” be is always overshadowing the place where I am.
Recently I went on a date. The location was a little strange. It was a coffee shop in a suburb that was still very much developing. In “developing” I mean being built. As I sat across from.. Let’s call him “S” we were both across the street from a huge field of dirt. Mounds and mounds and mounds of dirt. It was not “romantic” but it was interesting, I’ll give him that.
To get to the date I drove a large distance. I was late as I exited and entered on too many different highways that were not headed to where I wanted to go. I was putting in so much effort to get there that I started to ask myself “why am I really going”.
It’s not because I would say that I am unhappy. I have never and will never see new people as the cure for unhappiness anway. I will say that people take up time and at times where commitments seem foremost in my life it’s nice to be distracted.
Next came the sentence of “do I even want to go?” and the all too common one of “I should”.
As we sat across from the dirt we exchanged college stories. His two roommates vs. my one (possibly nudist) one. He spoke of the outdoors and I tried to chime in, yet, my answers were halfhearted. I haven’t worn hiking boots in months and much prefer my traditional Dr.Martens boots.
The conversation was fair but I could see myself reaching to reflect his answers. I knew he wasn’t trying to reflect mine.
When the date ended I called my friend of the phone and we talked it through. The spark just wasn’t there. Then we discussed if there are sparks. If I could have missed it.
There was one thing I got from the date. It's that I really want to write this blog. "S" didn't speak a lot on what I was saying BUT he's said he knew I would be good at it.
"S" is a stranger but sometimes you need a stranger to tell you what you needed to hear. So, maybe this date was "love" lacking but very infromative on the writing front.
When I don’t know what to do/ but know I need to go do something I go to the Goodwill on Broadway Ave. It’s big, and busy, and completely comforting. I’ll admit that the smell of old things has a special place in my heart (my mothers V. into antiques) and the Goodwill aroma is enough to make me smile.
I’m (almost) positive that the coolest women in the world must donate their clothes at THIS Goodwill. I believe this because A) the clothes are some of the classiest things I’ve ever seen and B) because the brands there are not your average person's wardrobe staples.
I just imagine that a hoard of impeccably dressed women arrive at the Goodwill in shiny black cars before they donate their bag of incredible clothes and move onto the next outfit. It’s a vicious cycle of clothes donation that benefits me hugely.
On the most recent occasion that I went to Goodwill I arrived after a long shift spent mostly in the sun. I slowly moved between the rack of clothes and felt for good fabric as I went. It was when I felt the incredibly soft fabric of this dress and saw the floral fabric that I was love struck. There’s something very very weird with me. It’s that I am 19 but I love dresses that a really classy older lady would wear. I don’t want to say I’m totally devoted to “grandma chic” but I feel as if my goodwill obsession has been pushing me the way.
What do you think of the dress (equally of "grandma chic"? any fans... or is it just me)