November 14, 2013

You win, Universe.

For only $17, these booties from Target last year were a fabulous investment.  They're like high heels without the commitment.  

These pants are Michael Kors black stretch pants.  I got them at Marshall's for about $25.  They are stretch pants.  Again, like pants, but without the commitment.
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Onto today's rant...

I'll take a ticket back to Alaska, please.

I can't take living in the middle of nowhere anymore.

You see, I feel like I'm at work a lot.  Like, a lot.  And the weekends are my time to generally enjoy myself.  I get enjoyment out of mindless consumerism, as most of us do.  But problem is that the places I need to go are quite a distance from where I live.  And the last thing I want to do on a weekend (the high holy days) is drive 4 hours.

If I want to go to Jo-Ann Fabrics, I need to drive at least an hour.  And I DO need to go to Jo-Ann Fabrics.  I need to get some supplies for school.  Some crafty stuff to work on Christmas gifts.  I need to stock up on some Christmas decor/wrapping paper.

I hate that I have to arrange my entire day around a trip to Target.

I hate that this makes me so mad.

I don't understand how people live here.

This picture might help explain my utter and complete frustration.


I could drive the whole way to St. Louis, like we did for that football game last weekend, and have everything I could ever possibly want at my fingertips. They even have a Whole Foods.  I've read about Whole Foods.  But it will take me at least 1.5 hours to get to the suburbs of St. Louis.  

I could drive south, all interstate, to Springfield and have almost everything I could ever need.  Alright, they do have pretty much everything.  But the issue with Springfield is that you have to switch interstates a couple of times, drive through town, and deal with traffic in order to get to the shopping.

Both St. Louis and Springfield are terribly boring drives.  

And then we have Osage Beach.  Osage Beach is a little lake town, nestled in the mountains of Misery Missouri.  It is in the middle of nowhere.  I'm always slightly terrified to drive there by myself.  

One time, when Scott and I were on our way back from Osage Beach, we almost hit two dogs on a windy back road (two dogs!).  I said, "What a hassle...we'd have to go knock on doors, looking for the owner."  Scott's reply was to never, EVER, go up to one of those houses.  If they found out you hit their dog, they'd "probably shoot you".  If you're wondering what I'm talking about here, go watch Winter's Bone, the movie I mentioned last Friday.  It's scary out there.

In other news, it was 64 degrees on Saturday.


Take the good with the bad, I guess.