Postcards From Norway
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The Best Bits
Looking back on my time living in Britain, I realize that while it came with its fair share of quirks and challenges, I miss every bit of that endearing weirdness more than I ever expected.
A few years ago, I realized I had a little habit. Okay, fine. A big habit. I was constantly shopping. Buying cute things that caught my eye, only to have them sit unworn in my closet, silently judging me. I’d swing between impulse purchases and aesthetic aspirations, always hoping the next item would be the missing piece that made me feel put-together. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
I don’t know how else to say this, so I’ll just come right out with it.
I was very uncomfortable in my own skin.
Oh, New England. The land of icy roads and even icier social scenes. I swore I’d never return after college, when my Midwestern self was met with a chilly reception colder than a Nor’easter. Back then, I was bombarded with snide comments about my home state — flyover state jokes, condescending remarks about my friendliness, and the general air of superiority. Apparently, being nice was a crime, and the Midwest was a punchline.
Let’s get something clear: being a picky eater is neither a moral failing nor an invitation for constant critique.
It’s a new year and maybe it’s the Sagittarius in me, or maybe I was just born with it, but that’s the perfect excuse to reinvent myself, yet again. 😏😏 And for me, that means a whole slew of new fixations that will become my entire personality for an extended period of time. I’ve seen the trend going around online of people making their ins and outs list, and while I feel like that’s a bit played out, I have been thinking about my current ins a lot lately; so much so that some of my current obsessions are legit keeping me awake at night.
Hiya friends,
I hope you’re all getting in the festive spirit right about now. I know that if I weren’t such a Scrooge, I would be.
I’ve been in quite the pensive mood lately; I won’t lie. My mind just won’t shut up - I guess that’s why I’m here. This little corner of the internet has always been my space to talk to me, and anyone else who cares listen, about my internal goings-on and this post is no different.
For the first time in along time, I feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be. It's the strangest feeling to try and describe to someone who doesn't know what you're talking about, but those who get it, get it.
![I know “[my] mountain is waiting. So… [I’ll] get on [my] way!”](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5bbeb9bfe5f7d15fbadcf0cc/1602902036492-CC9AQ2PJJHDJ3JA5BOES/the-places-you-will-go-seuss.jpg)
We all have them. Those relics of our younger years that stick with us forever. It’s almost as if something tells us that while we might not understand or relate to those things then, someday we’ll find their place or meaning in or lives, so we store them away in our cherished memories until that time comes.
Day 13 of hiding from COVID-19 is coming to a close and I never thought social distancing would feel so strange.
Hello, my friends, it’s been a minute. Life has a tendency to get away from us sometimes, doesn’t it?
A sense of belonging - one of mankind's most-basic and innate desires as people go through life. Being a part of something and having connections with other people gives you a warm, fuzzy feeling that you can't find anywhere else. Some people find it within their role at work, others seek it out within a church or political setting. It can be found in dozens of obvious places, but one place you might unexpectedly find your group is in the motoring world. Enthusiast groups exist across the whole spectrum of the automotive world - no matter what brand you drive, you'll probably find a group of like-minded driving fans to bond with.
My heart is shadowed tonight with what-could-have-beens.