I want the ugly things in life

Like really ugly.. ugly ugly. Well, it's only fitting for an ugly person to have ugly things, right? just kidding.

While out and about today, soaking in what is sure to be one of the last beautiful days of summer, a nice shiny Porsche whistled by me on the highway. I'd say it was a late 90s 911 Carrera aka my DREAM car. It got me thinking, when I make my first million and buy my first Porsche (Mind you, it's not a matter of if, but when - you can see my arrogance peeking through) I don't want that experience to be anything like how it used to be. If you're reading this and have been a friend of mine for a while, you'll remember my Talon. Good ol' vanity plates that read "PSI TSI", most of which I'm sure people thought I was in a frat.. or if you were a non-boosted Honda or V8 with silly Hemi stickers, you'd think twice after looking back at my big ol' FMIC.

Countless hours of research, planning, designing, building and tuning went into that car. After spending over $20k on her, I realized that in the 3.5 years I owned the car, I've driven it less than 8,000 miles. WOW. Every chance I got the car was waxed, pampered, garage-kept and driven like a bat-out-of-hell, after all, that's what she was built for. It was undeniable that it was the funnest (is that a word!?) 8,000 miles I've spent in a car, but a part of it all really eats at me.. Did I really enjoy the car as much as I could have? I spent so much time thinking about driving the car, that I had actually forgotten to actually drive the car.

So here, I present to you exhibit B, my shoes.

These bad-boys have been with me for over 400 miles, which is definitely well over it's squishy point, but oh well. I've ran in 3 different continents with them, I've ran a half marathon (soon to be 2), I've ran mountains, Capital cities, boot camps and beaches with them. I've never washed them, I've never fixed them, I've never done anything but use them. This is how I want my life to be. I want ugly things... used, abused, and beaten to hell. I don't want a nice, shiny Porsche. I want a sun-faded, yellow Jeep Wrangler with no doors (no shoes, no shirt, no problems), that screams "I've been through shit that you haven't seen!". I don't want a cushy life with a cushy job (although some may disagree.. haha!). I want to be out there, never tiring of new things and never afraid to be quiet or be loud. I want the truly ugly things of life because in the end, they're the most beautiful.