Bullseye Bobbi

It feels a little like I went home for the holidays, turned on the love tap, and let it run the entire time I was there.  I spent a lot of time with my brother and parents, and it was exactly how I needed to see 2013 to a close. My cup runneth over, and it made for a rough transition back to city life.

But I promise that this is not my 450th post about the sway between my roots and my wings.

No, this is a post to let you know that my new nickname on the mean streets of the Upper Peninsula is Bullseye Bobbi. Or at least that's what my dad calls me now when he wants to make me giggle.

As part of my 30-before-30 list, I asked my brother and dad to take me to our family's hunting camp to shoot a gun for the first time. It was pretty sweet to see them so excited to teach me one of their favorite hobbies. We turned it into a family affair, pups and all.

It was so much fun! I got a bullseye on my second shot, and tried out three different guns--a 9, a 22, and an assault rifle. Every time I shot the latter (above) I screamed involuntarily. It was a reflex!

I definitely thought that this would be a one-and-done, but I think it'll become a new family tradition. 

...and one more because I think it's the Yooper equivalent of a glamour shot 

and it makes me laugh a lot. Deep thoughts at the shooting range.

I also just realized that I match my dad's truck and that makes me super happy.