I Like My Bars Dirty

How do I like my bars? Dirty. I love a good dive bar. The more sections of wall that consist of tacky wood paneling, the better. The more creepy townie men who stare inappropriately before turning religiously back to the sporting show on the fuzzy TV, the better. I don't want to pay a cover, I don't want to have to look cute just to get sticky alcohol spilled all over me in on an overcrowded dance floor and I don't want to have everything bathed in a shade of weird purple 'trendy' lights.

Also, I am not skilled enough to order drinks at these hip bars filled with dancing, flirting, glittering 20somethings. I still order drinks like I'm in a frat house, because that's where I learned to drink. I like my drinks strong, and I prefer them in a solid glass mug or something non-breakable. Once, right after I moved here, I told a bartender that I wanted a Dr. Pepper and vodka. He was in shock. He asked me if that was a fancy drink from Michigan, because he had never heard of it. I just went with it and said yes. In reality, I could not tell you the difference between a mai thai, a cosmo, a martini or a rock collins. I am used to simple drinks: liquor, chaser. Two ingredients. Or maybe three, if we're going to get wild and make pink panty droppers (beer, vodka, pink lemonade).

So give me the dive bars: the ones with the best food, the weirdest people, the dimmest lights, the dirtiest floors, and the least decorated walls.

This is the actual level of lighting within the bar. I can barely see the back wall. 

Perfect.

Bars using posters of Gossip Girl will be given extra points in my book.

Just look at the dirt and the wood and the bottles. Clearly, you don't come here to flirt. You come here to drink. (Also, on the wall behind me there was a collection of mammoth beehives. Why? Because they can. Or maybe it's their version of a breathalyzer. When you start believing bees will actually come out of them, you've had enough.)

But the following really took the cake. This backwoods, old-man bar had squirrel decorations. That's right. Dead squirrels. Posed. Costumed. In shadow boxes. Like it was no big deal. Like this was a completely normal thing to do. And the closer you looked, the more squirrels you saw. 

Oh Missourah, you take the cake on old man bars. Cheers to you. 

Linking up with my boo Steph to celebrate her one-year blogiversary! Happy blogabirthaday, babay. 

I'm a Tree Fairy!

The other day, I was sitting on my ass couch watching TV when a commercial with the typical adorable child came on. Instantly, I started bemoaning "childhood is wasted on children. wouldn't it be great to be a child again...just for one day?" I thought of all the things I would do as a child again for just one day: not pay bills, not complain about whatever my mom cooked for dinner--just be grateful I wasn't cooking it, get a bunch of hugs, spend all day outside just playing. Remember when we were kids and we just went outside without having anything to do? As an adult, I feel like I can't really go outside without something to do. I need to be playing a specific game, taking a specific walk, or reading a specific book. But when I was a kid I would just go outside without any specific activity in mind most times...but four hours later I was dirty, tired, happy and content.

This weekend, winter visited Missouri.

I enjoyed laying on my couch for hours...but around 4 o'clock I wanted to start ramming my head against the wall. I caught myself whining "I can't even go to my gym classes because there's so much snow. Ugh." And then I saw my neighbors outside, building a snowman. My roommate thought they were crazy and I thought they were brilliant. They wanted to be outside, so they did. I wanted to be outside, so I did. At first, I took a walk. But that can only last so long. And then...I spied it. We had already had one tree fall, and my roommate and I were waiting for others to snap from the weight of the snow.

That's cool, I didn't need to get upstairs anyways.

I was desperate for a way to stay outside. And then it came to me. I could be the self-proclaimed tree fairy of my apartment complex. I could prevent other trees from snapping by ridding them of their too-heavy snow! So I ran around and shook all the branches I could find.

It hit me. Literally, and metaphorically. Metaphorically, my wish had come true. I was a little kid for a day. I didn't have a care in the world. I ran from tree to tree to tree, up hill, down hill, across the parking lot. Just shaking branches. Letting it avalanche onto my head. Sometimes pulling the branch back like a sling-shot and using it to hit the snow off the branch ahead. Unburying some branches that were already buried completely under the snow. It was wonderful. I know it sounds simple but--no, no buts. It was simple. And it was beautiful. It was fun and simple and thrilling. Each time I shook it, shrieked, got pelted by snow, and then got to watch the branch swing two feet up in the air, snow free again I felt a huge rush.

While I was swinging away, I was reminded of this quote.

I couldn't be a kid for a day then, but I could be a kid for today. When I wanted it, the answer was "not now." As a human, I oh so often assume that means "not ever." But today was a great reminder that our God is an awesome God, and he never forgets His children--down to their littlest desire. How beautiful.  Think of everything the Lord has to keep track of. Politicians, starving children, single moms, Pope Francis running away from his body guards (again) to go bless some homeless people. All these people and burdens and prayers...and yet He remembers me, a little ol' girl in Missourah, under a tree full of snow. Out of all of the requests and prayers and petitions He gets every single day, He remembered my one, thirty-second thought, "I want to be a kid again" and He made it happen.

Some of you are probably rolling your eyes. It was frickin' snow, get over it you may say. But to me, it was more. It was a reminder that "not now" doesn't mean "not ever." And I needed this reminder, desperately.  I've been stressing over everything--money, job, Missourah. And today, I got my answer. Not now. That doesn't mean He's forgotten me or that my life is over and I just have to deal with where I am. I'll get where I need to be, when I need to be. And along the way, I'll learn some cool things. Like today, I learned the coolest way to enjoy snow as an adult. And hopefully, I saved a branch or two.

Love,
The Tree Fairy

Now that's a rosy-pink shade of exertion that even my Bar Method teacher would approve of. Brought to you for free from the great outdoors.

You're bored? Do something. You want to get off your ass?  Get up.
You want to go outside? Go outside. Is it hard? You bet. Worth it? Absolutely.

I ran from tree to tree like a total moron. Do my neighbors think I'm crazy?
Who cares. I'm fabulous.