Chewbacca Situation and More

Chewbacca Situation and More

So I have a lot to catch up on. First and foremost, OH MY GOSH!!!! *insert fangirl scream when she sees her future husband making eye contact with her (when he’s actually trying to see if there’s security nearby) here*. I’m sitting here on this really nice, plush swirly chair smiling like a donkey would if donkeys could smile because I’m pretty sure it’s a really big, toothy smile. And the reason I’m grimacing is because I finally got around to reading the comments. I mean, I was expecting a few “LOL. You forgot a comma here.” and maybe a “Are you lonely? Would you like an arm pillow? Click here to…” Instead, I received lots of awesome, ego-boosting comments. And let me tell you, my ego was boosting. I was parading around my house like I was Queen Latifah in that movie where she found out she was going to die but she actually wasn’t. I think even my own parents regretted the idea of encouraging me to write. But either way, I was pleasantly ecstatic to hear some positive feedback from The People. So again, thanks! And if you have any ideas for me, I really would like to hear them because sometimes mine aren’t the most creative.

   Remember, my avid readers, when I mentioned the bonuses of traveling away for a while? Well, I finally did it. And the bonuses were unjustified.  Coming home was heavenly. But I can’t talk about the rainbow without explaining the storm or something, no? See, I was invited to participate in this great program. Honestly, when I applied, I had no idea what I was getting into (oh, did I find out!). So I traveled four hours from home in a very black Honda car. There I sat, anxious and excited and perhaps a bit bloated. Anyway, as I admired the hilly terrain around us, I realized something petrifying: I had forgotten my bright blue, brand new, Gillette Venus razor!!! And it was then that I experienced cognitive dissonance: My mind told me to illegally do a U-turn and speed back home for my dignity- my smooth, shaved legs while my actions displayed a limp body hidden under a blanket of dismay, terror, and utter acceptance of the fact that I would become the new Chewbacca of Bloomington. So using my critical thinking skills, I found an improved solution: I’ll just stop at a store and buy one! Except all the places I went to had none. None, whatsoever. Can you imagine? At the time, I believed I was being punished for all those times I was told to share the apple pies with my brother and I’d selfishly cut the pieces unequally so that I’d always get the biggest piece. On July 12th, He had declared that “Thou shall have hair for the duration of thou trip!!”

So despite my side dilemma, I arrived slightly early and got to pick out my choices: Being a bunk bed, I could have the twin sized mattress closest to the charger or the unstable, mountain ledge that would definitely lead to a broken arm if you rolled over. At all. After organizing and reorganizing my packed items, I decided to explore (Don’t you dare call me Dora).

Have you ever seen those really bad movies where if you pay attention you can see the microphone at the edge of the screen throughout the murder scene but you don’t ever pay attention because it’s the kind of movie where you make out during? Well, if you had paid attention, you would’ve noticed the bathroom. The bathrooms were just like those in the movies. If you saw the bloody hand on one of the stalls, you’d probably just face the other direction nonchalantly as you attempted to keep the scalding water on your back and not in your coconut scented hair.

   Aside from the sketchy housing, the place was great.  The only problem was how great it was. Remember in one of the Wolverine movies where the bad guy was mind controlled to keep walking until something painful happened, and then to keep walking some more? That was me. I walked, and crawled, and then my comrades dragged me behind them.  It was during those moments where I extensively contemplated my home and my family. And how to run away.  The program was great; I got free food, new information, and unruly new acquaintances. But it made home even greater. I missed the little things: the extra soft Charming toilet paper that was always there for me when I had too much fiber, the battery-operated toothbrush that never hurt my gums, the blankets that didn’t have questionable brown stains on them. I even missed my illogical mailman who would always cut across our lawn even when we would shovel the snow off of the pavement so that he wouldn’t get snow up to his knees like he tended to do during the winter. I missed my family and their loud, loving bickering and the way my dog would yelp with excitement when someone came to visit me.

    But at the end of the program, when I was finally in bed staring up at the mattress above me, half worried that it would collapse on top of me at any moment, I realized that it had been worth it. Now my family had had the opportunity to miss me, meaning I could get away with being lazy for a couple of days, and I had something to post on social media about my summer. Although traveling is tedious and it requires triple checking your items (because if not you might end up wearing sweat pants in 90 degree weather because your legs look like cacti), it’s a great reminder that you have a home where people love you and miss you, where your visit to the bathroom is never timed, and where you can be yourself, hairy or not.

Thanks for reading! I felt inspired after reading that comment about the shells. Lessons have been learned.

But mostly, I am never getting up at seven in the morning during the summer ever again.

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