Oh my God. Like, a magic door!

Can I call shenanigans on my life as of late? Is that allowed?

I hope so.

But even if I can't, I'm not going to let the past few weeks get in the way of my twenty-first birthday... Because it's supposed to be one of the most epic birthdays ever. You're legally allowed to get intoxicated (you just can't drive while doing it - that's bad.) and that's a BIG DEAL. I mean, it's another milestone on your way to adulthood... and a pretty good one at that. (Or so I hear.)


So, instead of moping about speeding tickets and being frustated about school, I'm going to have a party with my favorite people on EARTH... and hopefully eat a fuck-ton of cake that I don't need. :)

Best plan ever, right?


Aside from that, I've been thinking a lot recently that I really, really love the 40's.

They were such a beautiful decade. I mean, yeah, there was the war, but look, they had things like this:

Isn't that one of the most romantic things you've ever seen? God, this picture just GETS me every single time. It's like that part in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone when Dumbledore gives those ten points to Neville and Gryffindor ultimately wins the House Cup. It just tugs at my heart strings.

Yeah, his hand is blocking her entire face from view, but this is love. Pure, unadulterated LOVE. It's something I want. Maybe not in black-and-white and maybe not with tons of people watching. But I do want to feel this. This toe tingling, butterfly stirring, pure wonderful feeling of sinking deep into LOVE.

And back then, the divorce rate was so much lower. When a man and wife said "I do," they MEANT IT. Things should be so simple now. Two people who love each other (not necessarily just man and wife) should be able to stand before their friends and family and swear to always love just that one person for the rest of their life.

That's what the forties mean to me. They mean overcoming obstacles (such as a World War) and being rewarded with the most blissful sort of gift: love. :)

This aside, I've also always been really envious of pinup girls, which were ridiculously popular back then. Or atleast, styled heavily after that time period. I mean, Hello Rosie the Riveter! :)

Girls like these:

That, though very scandalous, are women worthy of respect. They are full figured women; real women. And I feel like these are the women who we should look to when we think "beauty."

Girls who have been surgically altered shouldn't even cross our minds. No Pamela Andersons or such.

Instead, we should think of these women. Real women with real proportions. With no ridiculous ideas about being a certain size. Just being comfortable with their body. And these women scream this if nothing else. That they are completely secure with what God gave them and they don't mind if you look.

God, I'm so jealous. I wish I had that confidence. I wish I was that beautiful. I wish I lived in the 40's.

If I had a time machine... just for a day...

But alas, I'm in the "new millineum" and I'll play the cards I've been dealt.

I hope, though, that one day I find the things that make me love the 40's so much.

The love. And the confidence.

I think it'll lead to the other elusive other thing I seek: complete and incandescent happiness.

Here's hopin'. :)