My 4th of July didn't start out in the best way. It was the typical story of girl meets boy, boy treats girl like crap, and girl cries because society has taught her that her self worth is directly linked to how boys treat her. You know, the plot of every MTV, CW, CBS, NBC, ABC family show that has ever aired.
After a short stream of tears and a quick monologue of "why does no one love me?" I had a choice to make. I could wrap myself in a blanket of self loathing and waste the day trying to figure out why 99% of twenty-something guys are worthless, or I could shake it off T-Swift style and enjoy my vacation day.
So I did. Step 1, I did my hair. Step 2, I put on my makeup, including mascara and a flawless coat of hot pink, "I'm not the kind of girl you mess with" lipstick. Then I tossed on a pair of jeans that I love, and the single cutest, most comfortable t-shirt I own (courtesy of my mother's southern shopping spree). Finally, I went to the one place that is guaranteed to brighten anyone's day...Starbucks.
I got in my car, and did something I haven't done in literally years. I rolled my windows down. Finally I put the most important piece of the puzzle into play. I cranked my speakers up to an obnoxiously high volume, and I put on my pump up playlist. I rode to Starbucks with my curls flying in the wind, and my sassy pink lips belting out every song at the top of my lungs. Sounds like a fool proof plan, right?
Not quite. Life was still having some fun at my expense, and after waiting 20 minutes for my drink at Starbucks, it still hadn't appeared on the counter. I walked up and smiled at the girl who had taken my order, who asked if I was still waiting for my drink. I told her I was, and a quick episode of Scooby Doo mystery later, the Baristas and I concluded my drink I had been sent off with another group's order. I assured them that I wasn't upset and jokingly said that as long as I left with a frappaccino in my hand, I would be a happy girl.
Not only did I leave with an utterly delicious cinnamon dolce frap, but I also left with a voucher for $4 off my next visit from the incredibly sweet cashier. I hopped back into my car, put the windows down, and took the long way home. I spent the entire ride singing at the top of my lungs and serenading everyone I passed. I was reveling in the warmth of looking on the bright side (which unlike the real sun doesn't burn my skin) and completely forgot all the reasons my day had started out badly.
It would've been so easy to spend the day being a sour puss, and wallowing in some self-loathing. Trust me, I know, I spent most of 2007-2015 doing it. But instead I took the advice of Taylor, and shook it off. And I ended up having an awesome day. Sometimes you have to do a little extra work to pull yourself out of a funk, but trust me, it'll be a lot more fun.
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