A new month is around the corner and that means a new Book of the Month! The current book club members suggested titles and voted and the results are in! This month we’re reading Here We Are: Feminism for the Real World by Kelly Jensen
. AND the Book Club Pamper Package is now available! In addition to a physical copy of the book, the Pamper Package includes some of my favorite self-care items and a little surprise from FabulouslyFeminist.
The spring season has me reminiscing about getting my driver’s license 16 years ago, inspiring a lighthearted essay about my first car, my beloved 1992 Geo Prizm.
Then I sit down with Nancy Jane Smith, author of The Happier Approach
. We discuss her step-by-step process to quieting your inner critic, the relationship between the inner critic and anxiety, and how the inner critic rears its ugly head in her marriage. We also talk a bit about chronic illness, as her husband lives with epilepsy.
Find Nancy and check out her book:
Listen to this episode using the player below, or find it on Apple Podcasts, Google Play, Spotify, iHeartRadio, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts!
My Tiny Tank
This spring is the 16th anniversary of having my driver’s license.
I got my first taste of independence behind the wheel of a 1992 Geo Prizm on a spring day not unlike today. I passed my driving test, got my photo taken, and I hit the road. This time of year always reminds me of that first drive — the smell of wet dirt, the chill in the air, the sun trying to peek through the clouds, and my first sweet taste of exhilarating freedom. Despite the cold today, I roll down my windows and turn up the music. I throw on some Jack Johnson tunes for old times’ sake.
That first car, lovingly dubbed The Prizm Bitch by my friend Abbey, was my best friend. It opened up the world for me. Armed with printed Mapquest directions, we were invincible together. It took me to my first job, my first prom, my first road trip. It helped me cut class for the first time and it earned me my first speeding ticket. Built like a tiny tank, it could bump into anything and not get a single scratch. I was diligent about changing its oil and checking the tire pressure in the winter. I decked it out with silly bumper stickers, Hawaiian seat covers, and a CD player. And when I got accepted to college, the first thing I did was affix a college decal to the back window. It was the oldest, rustiest car in the parking lot at my private college, but it still took us on adventures.
The rust was the only real problem I had with The Prizm Bitch. I didn’t mind the manual locks and windows. I didn’t even mind the lack of cruise control. But once the rust ate through the front doors, it was time to trade her in. In the 16 years I’ve been driving, no car has compared to that first tiny tank. I may have heated leather seats and a sunroof, but there was something about the zippy 1992 Geo Prizm that can never be replicated.
We take for granted our access to the open road, how so many of us can hop in the driver’s seat and just take off, to be somewhere else for a little while. I cherish my driver’s license and car, the freedom they offer, and I’ll always offer to drive if someone else is willing to navigate. So together, let’s go on an adventure.