T IS FOR TORREY

I haven't used my camera in a good couple months. I couldn't even remember how to set properly set it, the lens kept fogging and disgusting gross men kept getting in the shot. But all in all, I'm grateful for this gem of a friend and   that she a.) exists and b.) made me break out the camera again. 

Sugar Cane Village

When you hear "Sugarcane Village" don't you picture a sweet little village filled with gingerbread houses and sugar cookie inhabitants carrying sugared gumdrops to and fro?

Oh okay. Just me.

In reality, it's nothing like that. Though the children were tan and extra sweet, it was an incredible culture shock to set foot in the batey. I will spare you my attempt at imitating a National Geographic Documentary (and you can read more about Dominican Batey's here) but essentially  they are the poorest villages in the DR. Brought over from Haiti and having been promised stable jobs, the workers find themselves unable to escape the vicious cycle of the sugar cane season, unreasonably low pay and, grueling 14 hour work days.

So yeah. 

Please slap me if I complain about anything in my life ever again.

the whole journey is below....

ADULTHOOD SURVIVAL KIT

Adulthood entails voting, smoking, paying bills, eating healthy/veggies, paying taxes, worrying, leaving zits alone, parallel parking properly, tattoos, getting excited about vacuum cleaners and remembering to take your vitamins. And nothing says "Welcome to adulthood, you'll be fine!" like a survival kit.

Though very sarcastic in nature, this kit was well intended. And while I know I'm just a few seconds into my adulthood adventure, an adulthood survival kit (one with real money instead of fake money, preferably) would have been very helpful. But for a friends 18th birthday (and a desperately needed outlet for my creative energy), the not-so-helpful adulthood survival kit was essential.

BAND-AIDS...

used best for cuts, scratches and broken hearts.

SOME MEDS...

as in candy, because it's not that kind of box.

ADULTHOOD IS PRICELESS...

jk its rly expensive, so we included some fake money to

 help and also coupons for a free profile photo.

EMERGENCY SOCK STASH... 

Because socks always go missing and that's a 

fact of life all adults must accept.

PRESCRIPTION FOR HOW TO WIN A GIRL...

don't worry, talking to her dad first is a part of the treatment plan.

A LIGHTER...

strictly for lighting birthday candles and roman candles, 

even though legal lung cancer is now an option.

So if you ever find yourself with an abundant supply of tick tacks, red paper and red stickers, one fabulous white gel pen, fake money, a lighter, socks, bandages, candy and great life advice (Eat your veggies, pay your bills, and call your mom once a month.), and a friend entering adulthood, maybe you should make an adulthood-survival kit too.

And make me one while you're at it. Because I need all the help I can get.

MID-SUMMER STATE OF THE UNION.

I'm sure you've all been wondering, what is she going to do with her life?? And for those of you who automatically assumed that I would continue living in my over-saturated, iced coffee la-la land...well you're only half right. 

This post was originally going to be about my bathrobe that I love other mid-summer favorites. But in the course of opening my computer and logging in (jk, who even has time to log out these days?) it morphed into a mid-summer state of the union. But I'll probably talk about the bathrobe at some point because its really comfy.

Last year when my parents proposed a gap year, I was vehemently apposed the idea of taking a year away from social events for a calm interlude between high school and college. Which apparently God thought my opinion was funny because lol, here I am. And not only that, but after the dramatic turn of events that ensued this past school year, nothing sounds better than not having to worry about decorating a dorm room or climbing yet another social ladder.

So what am I doing? I'M STAYING HOME.

That's hard, humbling and not what I want in the least. But it's what God has for me and moreover, it's what I need. I need time to heal, time to grow and time to rest, both physically and in God's grace.   50% of my friends are leaving for school, the rest are embarking on the great journey that is senior year.  Through this whole process I have come to realize that my journey is my own. Which sounds very cliche and obnoxiously new age but it's true! What is right for one friend might not be right for me. A choice they make in their life might not be what God has planned for me.

And that it's okay that life is that way.
And I'm learning to be okay with that. 

I picked these photos for this post because they're cute and also, significant. Because, during that week, I realized that serving God is less about what I pictured and more about how I fit into His big picture. And thankfully for my instagram feed, He has me in my over-saturated la-la land for a little while longer.

PS: Previous state of the union, oh so official.

To Strong Women

And here's to strong men and strong boys and girl and strong eyebrows.

THE GREAT CHOP

The one thing (besides math) that I'll never understand? How girls get attached to their hair.

I'm not sure if I'm in the minority or the majority or if anyone actually cares, but it's always confused me. There are girls who can't imagine anything other than long, luscious locks and other girls who are  at peace with pixie cuts. And while I threatened to shave my head for a good long while, (drama queen), I ended up with a mild, mid length chop that feels just right and only slightly rebellious.

I've been growing my hair out since I was fifteen for the sole purpose of having a drastic haircut. Talk about desperate for attention!  My hairstylist, bless his heart, commented on it, "I've never seen someone so excited!" And every time he thought he was finished, I'd have him cut off more. It was incredibly thrilling (and oddly cathartic) to see what had once been my sweaty pony tail or my dutch braids in a pile on the floor.

So if your life is ever stressful, forget the long walk on the beach or the relaxing bubble bath, go get your hair cut off!

The first documentation of my new, improved, and much less dead hair was at the local art museum. The museum, though ambitious for our sleepy town,  was kind of a flop because we do not live in an artistically inclined area of Florida/The USA/The World and it was also at least 1083403 degrees outside (and inside) and I wore jeans.

But we had fun face-swapping with the pieces and pondering what deep emotions the artist was trying to convey through the comical and perplexing portraits that graced the gallery walls.

But mostly face-swapping.

THANK YOU TO....The random local artist for so 

many incredible face swaps and a killer snapchat story.

THANK YOU TO...Matt, my hairstylist, for doing his best to 

set me up with the cute boy in the chair across from me.

THANK YOU TO....Mom and dad for the $$$ so I didn't

 have to wing this haircut and pull a midnight-youtube-tutorial-fueled chop.

THANK YOU TO....Sarah for documenting this adventure and for 

enduring such an interesting and haunting museum with me.

AND FINALLY....Thank you to Jesus for not making me be attached to my hair. 

Life is way to short to fall in love with split ends. 

Amen.

NEWS FLASH: Still scared of fireworks

I can't tell if this face is cute or more along the lines of "Omg I'm about to kill the neighbors because they bought everything in the freaking Phantom Fireworks store."

Your call.