What would you say?

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Image via @alexandra003

Ali Nelson is one of the many people I was seriously inspired by this past year. When I saw she posted this question/prompt on her Instagram, I knew I had to respond.

If you could write a text to the you a year ago to prepare yourself for 2014 what would you say?

Wow, load your questions much, Ali? I love it. I love the challenge. I know I could probably go on and on about what I would tell myself a year ago, but I only want to skim the most important things in my response. What fun would it be if we were given a specific set of directions/warnings each year? I for one would probably be terrified.

So, Ali. If I had the opportunity to prepare myself for 2014 via text, I would tell myself, “Breathe in, breathe out, repeat. Pack a little lighter for Australia. Don’t regret any of your experiences with him. Realize you deserve 200% better and let him go. You’re stronger than you think.”

2014 has been the biggest adventure-filled year of my life, which I hope means 2015 is going to bring even more adventure. Only time will tell, eh?

Happy New Year!

Daily Prompt: Tattoo….You?

» Daily Prompt: Tattoo….You?

Do you have a tattoo? If so, what’s the story behind your ink? If you don’t have a tattoo, what might you consider getting emblazoned on you skin?

I don’t have a tattoo yet- but getting one is on my “23” bucket list and I do have a plan as to what I’d like it to be. There are two important details to what I want: 1. In the last few years, I’ve found myself extremely drawn to downtown Chicago. I don’t get to stay down there for very long/very often, but when I do, I never want to leave. 2. In the last few months, I’ve found myself feeling an overwhelming amount of wanderlust. I want to travel; whether it’s throughout the US or across the world in Australia.

That being said, I realized that no matter where I end up, the only place I will ever refer to as my home is Chicago and its beautiful skyline. And that’s what I’d like my first tattoo to be. An outline of my home to take with me wherever I end up.

Daily Prompt: Switcheroo

Daily Prompt: Switcheroo

If I could switch places with any blogger for a day (I’m already going to cheat and choose a vlogger), it would be Grace Helbig. I’d love to experience a day in her life- whether she’s causing shenanigans with Mamrie and Harto, vlogging for DailyGrace, or auditioning for commercials, I think it would be awesome to slip on her comedic shoes for a few hours.

Obviously, a #giachagt instagram photo would be necessary. As well as a drunken meal made by Hannah Hart. And I think I’d deserve a drink from Mamrie Hart. A cameo by Tyler Oakley wouldn’t hurt. And to be a total girl for a moment: I love Grace’s fashion/hair, so that would be fun.

Now what does this have to do with blogging/vlogging? Not much. I simply enjoy what I see in Grace through her social media accounts. But to be fair, there’s a creative process I know Grace follows. No matter how silly or unusual it is, I have a feeling I’d get a lot out of it. And that, dear readers and friends, is why I’d like to switch places with Grace Helbig for a day.

Daily Prompt: Stranger

Daily Prompt: Stranger.

I’m trying something a little new today: writing a blurb based on a prompt. This one stuck out to me, because I love random encounters that leave a lasting impression.

I never liked going to Hair Cuttery. I have a few distinct memories of coming home after a hair cut, looking in the mirror at the atrocity framing my face, and wanting to crawl in a hole. When I was a freshman in high school, I had this great idea: I’m gonna get my hair cut like this professionally-styled, blonde model with a petite face and little eyes that scream “Blue Steel.” Because I don’t ever style my hair (ever), I’m a lanky brunette with big eyes, and I don’t think anything can go wrong! Some might say it was sweet how optimistic I was. I say it was just a terrible idea, but there’s not much you can do besides wait once the hairdresser starts snipping.

Once my hair grew out and I managed to crawl out of my figurative hole of shame a number of years later, I heard my youngest sister telling our mom that she wanted to try something edgy with her hair for the end of the school year. Being the great big sister I am (with the knowledge of what can go wrong when you get a little too brave), I offered to be the one to take her.

While I sat and waited, I caught myself watching this child get her hair cut on a booster seat. I assumed she was with the older woman sitting to my left, who was engrossed in a magazine. I noticed she wasn’t dressed like a typical suburban parent, so when I heard her speak to the other child with her, I wasn’t surprised to hear a thick accent. I’m not one to react subtly to things like accents- I full on cheesy smiled. I guess that caught her attention, because she then turned to me and asked, “Are you on holiday?” It took me a few seconds, but I replied, “Oh, sort of. I’m home from school for the week.” She asked a few more questions, to which I explained I was going to a school in central Illinois and that I was studying English Writing. That peaked her interest, “Oh lovely! And what’re you going to do with that? Teach?” “No, I’d like to be a writer.” “Have you been to Ireland?” “Is that where you’re from?” “Yes,” she smiled and nodded at me. “I haven’t, but I’ve heard it’s beautiful. That would be such a great trip to take.” “Ah yes, well all the best writers visit Ireland.”

When the woman at the desk called my last name to pay for my sister, “Conway?” I stood up, but not before I heard the woman next to me say, “Ah, and you’re Irish, are ya not?”

I haven’t seen this woman since I left Hair Cuttery that day, but I still think of her every once in a while. And to be honest, I appreciate her for a few reasons: 1. she was a total stranger and super chatty with me, 2. she took interest in my desire to be a writer, 3. she made me want to visit Ireland. I still haven’t gotten around to it, but when I do, I (not so) secretly hope I’ll bump into her there.

And in case you were wondering, my sister’s new hair turned out fantastic. I guess that’s the perks of being the baby of the family– all of your genes have it figured out after a few prior attempts (see: older sister, myself, and other younger sister).