Manifest Destiny

Sometimes, I suck at blogging. There has been a topic I have been wanting to write about since Montreal, and somehow I just haven't found the time to sit down and write it out.

I'm one of those girls with ridiculously strong mood swings. Call it PMS, borderline personality disorder, or just plain old girlish hysterics, I have been known to be either insanely happy or dysfunctionally depressed. However, also being a fairly intelligent girl, I'm constantly on a search for the solution to these problems.

In this crazy world, we have to create our own happiness. In the quest for happiness we often look to others, to money, to our significant others, waiting for a windfall to hit us on the head and shake us out of our ruts and habits.

On saturday in Montreal, I went out with a big group of peopple to shop and wander around the city. It was pouring rain, so we stopped and got ponchos at a local surplus store. After that, we walked a very long way, without stopping. I wanted to wander, to look in random stores, to try on absurdly expensive dresses, and make a mess. Our group just plowed on ahead, until we stopped for two hours to go in an audio store and eat.. smoked meat. NEITHER OF WHICH I'M REMOTELY INTERESTED IN.

Suffice to say, I was very unhappy.

So I took a deep breath, and wandered off. Lit a cigarette and found a latte. Walked slowly past store windows. Dipped in and out of thrift stores. Enjoyed who I am, my place in a strange city, being with myself.

I listened to myself, and what I needed to do. I had a nap in the hotel. I didn't watch tv or surf the internet.

I went out that night and danced, and met some amazing, incredible people. The pounding, twitching noise carried my feet for hours on end. Running around and yelling and drinking vodka and Bomba (the local version of redbull..).

Happiness is your decision.