Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool

I guess this isn’t the first thing that I should be worrying about when it comes to my upcoming venture to Europe, but due to the nature of 21 year olds and social media, I am nevertheless consumed with how I want to remember this trip. The follow up to that is that I’m also consumed with making sure I provide an experience for the people who follow me on my various medias. Because even though a majority of the small number of “followers” that I have online, are people that I know from high school, that only makes the tensions higher. 

I’m torn between this new self respect I have grown into over the past couple months - I guess having your heart broken is the best way for this travel novel to start. 

Young wide-eyed girl, travling abroad for the first time looking for adventure. That is a movie I would see. That is a youtuber I would subscribe to. So why do I have this overwhelming sense of panic when it comes to my carry on, and the clothes I’ll be wearing and the technology I will use to capture my journey to entertain the people on the internet rooting for me to have a good time. I also think of this as a way to share my experience to those who dream to one day travel but can’t afford it right now - for example literally every single person I have told about my trip gives me this look of... judgement? Jelousy? Hatred? Compassion?

All I know is that I bought this great dress for the trip. This great dress that makes me feel like an old movie star trouncing around in Rome with a pretty co-star. The person who sold me on it saw me hold it - and let it be known I have to shop at a plus size store because... well that’s a whole other issue - she said “Oh that dress is either going to look great on you, or it wont work. Don’t be hard on yourself if it doesn’t work.” She’s literally the best thing to happen to me. She’s the best. 

So I closed my eyes, held my breath, and put on the dress looking for the signs that this would not be “The Dress”. I turned around and looked in the mirror in that dressing room and for a second I couldn’t recognize myself. Granted I have been trying to loose weight for the trip too, and my mental health has been on a rollercoaster, but this time it wasn’t that I didn’t recognize myself, its that I looked how I always pictured. I looked empowered, like some character from my favorite movie. 

That dress is hanging on the back of my door, just waiting for me to put on on one hot day on our trip where I want to look extra nice. 

That’s the other thing about what I’m packing. I’m making sure everything I take is hellah versatile. Every shirt should look good with every bottom. Every bottom should look good with every accessory (bag, glasses) because I want to have my picture taken standing alongside these great works of art that someone spent years erecting from jagged, raw, useless matter.

me: MY BABY

*cat meows again*

Me: I'M COMIN' DAISY

*I open the door*

*Cat runs away from me*