Saturday Steals: Free Advice

Welcome to another titillating round of Saturday Steals!

Before we fully begin, I would like to take a moment for a little bit of housekeeping. It has come to my attention that some readers who are interested in participating in Saturday Steals feel hindered by the fact that they don’t know how to participate in Saturday Steals. For more in-depth information, you can read this post. But for a brief overview, continue reading:

Step 1: Find a steal. A steal is defined (by me) as any object worth more to a person (either monetarily or emotionally) than they actually had to pay for it. This could be a beloved quilt or an awesome vintage thrift store dress, or anything else imaginable. It doesn’t have to be recent, it just has to be a steal. (For a complete list of former Saturday Steals, click here.)

Step 2: Write a post on your own blog about your steal.

Step 3: Within said post, it is an unspoken (except now I’m speaking it, so awkward) courtesy to link back to my blog, not only because it helps all your readers find my blog, but it also helps them see what other steals are out there. Hopefully, the more your readers follow Saturday Steals, the more participants we will have every week.

Step 3.5: You are also welcome to copy the above Saturday Steals image and add it to your own post as a badge of honour for participating.

Step 4: When your post is written, come back to MY Saturday Steals post for the week and add your link at the bottom of the post.

Step 5: Sit back and enjoy clicking on all the other steals of the week.

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All right. With that out of the way, we can get on to the real juice of the post: the steal.

A few weeks ago, I drove from Southern Alberta, Canada, to Mesa, Arizona all by my lonesome. It was a great experience; I enjoy making that trip by myself every summer (when possible).

It took me 23 hours of driving time—split into two days—to make it here. At times my eyes got blurry. At times my bum got numb. At times my head felt so heavy on my twerpy little neck that I thought surely it was squishing my spine and that I was becoming more of a hunchback with every passing mile.

But at other times, George Jettson and I passed long convoys of semi trucks on twisty mountain roads with nothing but a prayer and a gas (diesel) pedal. And I came within inches of hitting more than one daring bird. And I actually did run over a few lizards in Nevada. My heart stopped and promptly lurched ahead, making up for lost beats. I was frightened half to death and exhilarated all at the same time.

When at last I made it to my home of 21 years, I walked in to a roomful of family delighted to see me, including but not limited to a grandmother whose voice rises an entire octave when she sees me because now that I’ve moved to Canada I am exciting to have around when I’m back home. (Incidentally, nothing has made me feel more loved and appreciated than family who misses me so dreadfully when I’m gone that they drop everything just to hang out with me when I’m back. I guess there’s more than one way to feel validated in life. I chose moving to the barren nether regions of Canada.)

The first night of my arrival, I was lounging on my parent’s love seat when I noticed a stash of fortune cookies in a basket just within my reach. I don’t really like fortune cookies to eat (though I always do eat mine because I also don’t like wasting perfectly good food), but something about the prolific basket beckoned to me. Without much thought, I reached out and swiped a cookie, snipping open the plastic wrapper with my canine incisor and slipping out the wafer-like cookie in one smooth motion. (For someone who claims not to like fortune cookies, I’m certainly a pro at eating them.)

I cracked open the cookie, pulled out my fortune, and—no lie—gasped when I saw what it read:

“Travelling to the south will bring you unexpected happiness.”

Now, I am not superstitious, except for the times when I am, and friends? I BELIEVE.

I mean, seriously? Seriously. I was meant to read that cookie.

My only beef with this fortune is that the word “unexpected” is not altogether appropriate. I mean, I fully expect to have the grandest of times while here in the south, to fulfill every bit of happiness I set out to find. So I don’t know how unexpected it will be when indeed those expectations are met. I mean, unless destiny has secretly worked out an amazing plan for me to be discovered by an agent (film or publishing, I could be happy either way [wink]) while I’m down south for the summer, I don’t think any joy that comes my way will be unexpected.

Especially now that my fortune cookie tipped me off.  I’m totally on the lookout for secret, hidden happiness. Bad on ya, Fate.

But whatever.

It was free. And it meant a lot to me.

And thus it was a steal.

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So now it’s your turn! What did you steal this week? How much did it cost you? Where did you find it? Write a post and add the hyperlink to the link list below. The list is open starting now all the way to Sunday at 11:59 Arizona time (whatever that is, DIE, YOU LOATHESOME INTERNATIONAL DATELINE).

p.s. There will be a prize for a randomly-selected Saturday Stealer this week.

About Camille

I'm Camille. I have a butt-chin. I live in Canada. I was born in Arizona. I like Diet Dr. Pepper. Hello. You can find me on Twitter @archiveslives, Facebook at facebook.com/archivesofourlives, instagram at ArchivesLives, and elsewhere.
This entry was posted in It's All Good, on the road again, Saturday Steals, self-actualisation, the great state of AZ, Travel and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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