Wanderlust vs. Fashionista

The last week here in College Station is a weird experience. My friends (including me) are all getting a little clingy because we are kind of having minor panic attacks at a glimpse of the end of life as we know it. We have been trying to spend every waking moment together, and sleeping over during the times that we are not awake. I don’t know what happened to my 4 years of college, and I cant decide if it passed by fast or slow…the answer is both. Seems like yesterday that I was a senior in high school, worried about EVERYTHING, and shallow as they come. But the person I was in high school seems like a whole world away from who I am today, years maybe light-years away. Anyways, my friend group has made a pact to leech to each other this week, as to take advantage of every minute that we have left together. Yesterday we razor scootered to Sonic Happy Hour and then back to Becca’s. It is safe to say that my right leg is substantially more muscled up than my left as of this morning. Razor scooters are much more exhausting than you remember them from childhood. Becca rollerbladed instead, and wore an entire Hawaiian outfit that she found at Goodwill. Proof:

Last night we all cuddled up on my couch and watched Sex and the City. These are my thoughts on that movie:

There is some portion of my being that wonders what it would be like to live the life that Carrie Bradshaw leads. The never ending cash flow is the most appealing part. Being rich seems like it would make things so much easier—never having to worry about how much something costs, or never having to save money, etc. The fancy extravagant outfits are just so foreign to me, as I type to you in my boys undershirt-white V-neck and boxer shorts. They (Carrie, Charlotte, Samantha, Miranda) have an endless supply of shoes, and enjoy endless amounts of colorful drinks. I would be the most materialistic sinner if I had access to this stuff, oh I would have to repent faster than you can snap your fingers. But I would not want that stuff, like a fancy flower ring for 50 grand. I could cuss at how ridiculous that is in my head. My friends all decided that the one thing that we could all agree on is that we would NOT stay skinny living in this world. We would hire personal chefs to have a breakfast array waiting on us every morning. But then again, we could also hire personal trainers to force us to burn off our biscuits and gravy—the obvious breakfast of choice.

So if I had access to all the money in the world, I genuinely would not use it on anything like that. Instead, in my world, being rich would mean that I could take any trip that I wanted to take to anywhere I wanted to go. My money would be spent on seeing the world. I really just want so badly to travel around, pursue a never ending adventure, and further the kingdom while doing so. I could live in a tent for all I care. That is my dream life. I would go everywhere in the world, and tell people about Jesus, and hike and bike and climb and jump out of airplanes. I would want to meet people constantly and make new friends, and learn about their worlds and how different they are than mine. It would be so interesting. Basically, I want to be a vagabond….no, a wanderlust.

“Wanderlust is a strong or innate desire for or impulse to wander, or, in modern usage, to travel and to explore the world.” (Wikipedia)

I would still want to live in a small house to call home up in the mountains, with decorations that are cluttered organizationally. I would prolly want it to be like a little lodge. Maybe on a lake in the mountains—best of both worlds eh? I need to Google that and see if its possible. I know there are lakes and mountains in New Zealand that are AWESOME, so if I cant find a remedy in Colorado, then I will just pack my crap and move to New Zealand. Rough life huh?

Anyways I want my lodge to feel warm, and there to be a lot of stuff in there, but it has to be organized. Grubb tells me that she sees me as a casual “boho” type decorator. I like that stereotype. I didn’t even know what the term “boho” meant until like 5 months ago when Savannah had to explain it to me, but now I love it. I want my house to be super earthy and super cozy, with all my extreme sports stuff used as decoration. I would like a hammock in my living room, and I would like to have my kayak hanging from the ceiling or something, maybe some snowboards on the wall. This house from Beaver Creek last Spring Break would be PERFECT.

My mom will die when she reads this. At least the husband I have in mind will be totally on board with this. He will probably want to put posters up in our room which is totally fine by me, we can be kids forever together and never grow up! Then when we actually have a kid of our own, (hopefully a boy) we are sticking him and his shaggy head on a snowboard at age 6. With my luck, he will be one of those “reads for fun” type kids and hate the outdoors. I will have to pray really hard about that scenario. Hopefully I can pump enough genetics into him to at least give him a competitive drive. I want to race him down the mountain on a snowboard, and beat him. Sometimes I might let him win, just to boost his self confidence. Or maybe I will just make my husband let him beat him, so I don’t have to lose.

Anyways so that is what I would spend money on. I would never have nice shoes and a huge mansion. That sounds awful. Just for starters, high heels KILL your feet. I wouldn’t want dresses and jewelry, I wear a $2 purity ring and bracelets from Wal-Mart every day for crying out loud. The glamorous life in New York City is just not appealing to me whatsoever. I almost get a gag reflux just thinking of having to brave that personal hell. And I would still want to work during the time spent not traveling, at least until I have 4 kids to keep me distracted. I DO NOT DO WELL WITH BOREDOM. I get all depressed and start feeling sorry for myself, so I am going to need a schedule. Yep. So if I happen to win the lottery or something, you now know what I will be doing for the rest of my life. Happy traveling :)