30 Things – If You Could Live Anywhere…

It’s back to work for some people who had a long weekend (CoughSeanCough). Others of us have been working this whole time, minus a break to try to save our stuff from the flood of 2013. I’m feeling pretty unwell today. I’m not sick, but just uncomfortable enough to want to nestle into my cats and whine about it. I’m going to work anyway, though. 🙂

Cat Snuggling

Pudge would rather I stay and snuggle him.

So I figured I’d answer one of my 30 Things this Tuesday:

If you could live anywhere, where would it be and why?

There are so many answers to this. I know a lot of people would want to live in some tropical location near a beach with surfing and all that jazz. But, honestly, I’ve never really loved the beach. I always feel like an uncomfortable potato chip afterward: fried, salty, and crisp. Not a fun combo.

On the Beach

Yes, I wear old lady hats to the beach. I have no shame!

I feel like I’m more of a mountain kind of girl: lakes and hills, kayaking and hiking. Those are more my style than surfing and feeling invisible, slimy things swim near your body. Or getting stung by a jellyfish on the butt.

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live in the Tetons in a cabin near a mountain with a writing studio and cats and a fireplace and my mug collection sitting around the house and huge, warm cable-knit sweaters. I’d wear mom jeans and old loafers and be the weirdo of my small town as I’d drive my old Subaru to the market and get a paper bag filled with odd groceries. My hair would be disheveled but fitting for my weird, writer niche within the town.

Welcome to my fantasy world.

Fall Creek Falls

It wouldn’t necessarily have to be in the Tetons, maybe some tiny French village where I’d only just picked up on French the past few years. The villagers would see me as the outsider they’d come to accept and maybe even like a little since I am so odd and quirky and, let’s face, awkward as hell.

Or maybe a German town where I’d be the only person who doesn’t enjoy beer but instead orders a water-no-lemon and sits in the corner of a pub watching people for hours and writing random things in a warped notepad and soggy napkins.

Welcome to my dream life. It’s very Diane Lane in Under the Tuscan Sun.

Happy Tuesday! May you enjoy the small pleasure that is fantasizing about your perfect life. 🙂

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