Corn and Stretch Pants Are Going to Save Me

I was at the grocery store and saw a "Sale: Discontinued" sign next to a bunch of dried beans, and it made me very, very sad.

"People don't want to take the time to cook dried beans anymore," I thought to myself. "We're such spoiled society that if it weren't for baked beans, I bet they'd probably just 'discontinue' beans all together."

And then I realized how ridiculous that was. I might be a little depressed.

So, I'm taking a trip to Ohio to see my loved ones this weekend. It's also time for my dear Janee to harvest her shrimp. In landlocked Ohio.

Ten hours in the car, a 12-pack of beers with the gang and plucking on my six string, should get me right as rain ...

Or more miserable and homesick than I already am.

Either way, I'll get to eat some BBQ Corn Nuts bought specially from my favorite truck stop in Breezewood, PA, and don't nothing cure the soul like eating deep-fried corn kernels with artificial barbecue flavoring whilst on the open road.

I'm trying to get my act together, my pretties. And I've been doing so much soul searching and praying and meditating and journaling and walking and drinking that I was CERTAIN that my path would be revealed.

But, it has not been. For the first time in my 27 years, I don't have a big picture. I do not have a plan. I'm wide open.

Janee's Mom said something once that really stuck with me: "Sometimes, you can be so open-minded that stuff falls out of your head."

Yeah.

I need a focus. Lately it's been perfecting the muzak for my babycakeses' Glynnie and Hot Sauce Flo Dad's wedding ceremony, but that's coming up in early October.

After the celebration, I haven't a clue what's going to propel me forward. Unfortunately, I find myself single again (sorry to all of you who've had to endure my ramblings during that scene). I'm also without any real place to call "home" and many of my friends are trickling out of D.C. Megan Jane's been gone for two whole months now.

I'm revisiting old plans and aspirations in the hopes that something will click.

Looking back at one of the times in my life when I recall being really happy and carefree, a lot of folks knew me as "Beans," because I looked like a beanpole.

Perhaps it's just a coincidence, but I also wore a lot of stirrup stretch pants during that period.

So, I'm not taking my chances on messing up the happiness formula. Henceforth, I'd like for you all to call me Beans and don't hate when you see my rocking the stirrup pants and long T-shirt munching on some BBQ Corn Nuts.

It's been a tough couple of weeks.

In the Comments section, tell me about the time when you were happiest. Bonus points if it involved beans, Corn Nuts or stirrup pants.