To my sisters...

The only picture I have of the three of us :)

Say "no" more than you say "yes." You don't need one more beer. You don't even like him that much. You have nothing to prove. Go home before you get kicked out. It's ok if nobody remembers your name.

Find something you like. Then work for it. Study without being told. Spend Saturday nights and Sunday mornings with your passion. Believe it or not; friends can wait, family can wait, everything can wait because time invested in yourself is infinitively more valuable than time invested in someone else. The people who care about you know this and respect it.

Quit. Be a quitter. You don't like tennis? Quit playing. Marine biology was a terrible major? Quit school. Your best friend is being a dick. Quit her. There will never be a valid reason why 'sticking it out' is better than finding something else that actually makes you happy. Quit everything! You're worthless if you half-ass your way through life.

Work everywhere. The gas station. Fast food. On a farm. Be a construction worker! Make yourself uncomfortable, it's not forever, it's for a paycheck and you'll thank me later for having a completely strange life experience. It's ok to leave before you get cozy but don't let the opportunity pass you by. NEVER let an opportunity pass and ALWAYS give your two weeks.

Show humility. Your parents may think you're a genius. You may think you're a genius. Hell, you may just be a genius! But the reality is, the world perceives you as a moron. Let them think you're a moron and prove them wrong with your actions. You will never be able to talk yourself onto a pedestal so let the judges in your life carry you to the throne. And once you sit on the red velvet do not look down your nose and do not adopt an attitude. You got to the top by practicing humility and you stay there by showing poise.

Love a boy. And then hate him when it's over. Put everything you have into a relationship; at first it'll be every bit of love and loyalty and passion that you can muster then it'll be anger and pain and distrust. Love so hard that you lose your appetite, food and water is secondary to the way you feel. Then cry until your eyes won't make tears anymore. Cry until you think you may die. But guess what? You won't.

Don't give in. You move out in a fury? Don't come crawling back. You break up with the cheating prick? Don't drunk dial him. You stand up to your chauvinistic boss and he fires you? Don't apologize. This is strength of character.

Have a 'type.' Every sex starved boy who shows you attention is not your type. Determine what you deem is acceptable (physically, mentally and emotionally) and stick to your guns. Make a list! Write it down and keep it in your wallet! If it's concrete then you can't make excuses for yourself later. If a red flag even catches the faintest breeze, back down. He's cute but he's dumb. He's smart but he doesn't listen to you. He's emotional but he's an ogre. Don't worry, someone will want the poor fool, it doesn't have to be you.  

Love yourself. So cliché but here's a twist; don't love yourself too much. You have to change to improve. You have to love yourself to succeed. Find common ground. You know you have the potential to be the perfect human being, so work towards it. Don't forget where you came from but always move faster in drive than you do in reverse. You're perfect today and you're perfect in 20 years but you will most definitely not be the same person. You are the only one who has the final say as to whether or not you are acceptable, and you know what? You are. But you can be better. Always.

Sister...

I love you.

I don't want your damn umbrella...

 

So, this picture has made it's rounds again. I die a little inside for women everywhere whenever I see this.

 

I guess I should cook and clean and have babies for my man while he works outside everyday and provides for my weak mind and body. I wonder what it would be like to have soft hands.

 

I've tried a million ways to interpret this differently but I just can't change my opinion. This is crap. It's a slap in the face to someone such as myself that has worked so hard, and as an equal, to have everything I want and then be cut down like I will never be in a successful relationship because I don't know where my 'place' is.

 

I know where my 'place' is...

 

It's not under your umbrella and it's not using my umbrella to shelter you. It's getting a bigger umbrella and standing shoulder to shoulder.

 

It's not being submissive and allowing you to single handedly run a household. It's talking about choices and coming to mutual agreements with you. It's compromising.

 

It's not taking care of a house and a life you fund because the man is the financially stable one in a relationship. It's sharing responsibilities and being dependent on one another regardless of our job titles or salaries.

 

It's feeling like I'm important and loved and cared for but it's also knowing that I'm more valuable than what my womb can produce and my ability to bleach your socks.

 

My 'place' is with someone who respects me, not with someone insecure enough to feel the need to lead me.

 

Let's stop sharing this garbage in an attempt to organize the family dynamic to your ideals. I might've put on a long skirt and had the dishes done if I was born 40 years earlier but today I'll kick off my boot the same place you did and we'll warm up some pizza rolls.

 

 

 

I've never been lost...

I've never been lost. I've also never been found. I'm a runner, a reformed drifter. I follow the rules I make for myself. I break the rules I make for myself. The devil can't catch me if he can't keep up with me. Too often I can't keep up with myself.

It was 11:11 and I insisted everyone should make a wish. It's a game I like to play, life is a game. I silently made my wish, it was typical, the same wish shooting stars are getting bored with. I've got my wish memorized, I think if I make it enough times whoever is in charge of granting wishes will allow me my glory out of sympathy. He'll say, "this poor girl is hopeless, let her have that boy." Everyone deserves a fair shot after all.

That boy told me he knew what my wish was. I hadn't said it out loud. I may have eluded to my desire, my eyes might say more than my lips. My face flushed because I knew he had seen through me. Where is this person that grants wishes and why isn't he listening to me? It's remarkably hard to let go of something I've never even touched.

All those songs you make me listen to; the words that tell my story, the words that tell your story. Those thoughts you make me think, the dreams that come when I force myself to sleep. I've changed a little since way back then, when we danced and I didn't want to let you in. I didn't want to let anyone in. Now you have the key, I'm vulnerable in a way I haven't allowed myself to be before. You're wrong for me, but gosh dang, you're so right.

I need you to keep up with me; be someone who can rope a stray because I've strayed for too long. Lead me to a better pasture because I can't survive this drought. See me through my better days because I've weathered too many storms. Find me because for the first time I think I'm lost.

Once Upon a Time...

Today I'm sad for all the 'once-upon-a-time' dreamers who forgot who they really are. They laid down what they wanted and they picked up what they thought they needed.

The girl who found Mr. Right Now and turned him into Mr. Good Enough. They got married because that's what they were suppose to do. An illegitimate child might be the worst thing that could happen in such a small town so they rushed the nuptials. She was happy for the moment. It could've been the hormones. Staying home all day couldn't be that bad but cleaning crayon marks off of the walls is a far cry from her wild ambitions she once clung to so defiantly. The late nights wrinkled her face, the dishes and laundry wrinkled her hands and the weight of losing herself wrinkled her heart.

The boy who had a few too many drinks and didn't get to make a decision when he found out his mistake a few months too late. Her daddy sat him down and he thought for the first time he was a man, and he tried, but he wasn't. Working midnights was a lot harder than running amuck at midnight and it wasn't any more gratifying. His friends didn't waste any time finding new adventures when their old pal hit the end of his chain. Everybody finds their time to settle down, to live a life worth living. That's what they say anyway. He needed to shed it, it was time to grow up, but rushing things never quieted his restless soul.

When asked, they'll reply. "I didn't lose my dreams, they just changed," and then they'll add with a tired smile, "for the better."

They've had a lot of time between sitting at a steel press sometime around last call and praying that the crying will stop long enough to take a bath to come up with appeasing answers to the trivial questions of childless, unwed commoners.

If it's your dream then you should chase it and have pride. Congratulations on your life well spent.

If you've had to change it to fit your circumstances then it's not a dream, its a prison sentence.

Today I'm sad for the 'once-upon-a-time' dreamers.

National Day of the Cowboy

Lazy or fun??

I'm an hour late for the "National Day of the Cowboy," but it only seems fitting that I was at a ranch bronc riding.

I'd like to thank all the cowboys that have let me in. Some of y'all have welcomed me into your inner circle and for that I am forever grateful. I've lived a life so far that is better than any book and wilder than any imagination.

Thanks to all the old cowboys who have shown me the ropes and taught me how to act right; that ever so important cowboy etiquette. Thanks for being patient and explaining yourself more than once and thanks for making me do things on my own.

Thanks to the young cowboys, a little less patient but wise enough to look up to. Thanks for yelling at me when we were in a rush and I didn't know which way to go; you gave me a hole to fill and it made me feel important. Thanks for cussing me when I missed a yearling that we really needed to catch; you were kind enough to give me a chance. Sometimes I got upset but I sure learned fast when I was threatened with a chapping, y'all never followed through but I always took it to heart.

Thanks to the cowboys with good reputations who talked their bosses into letting me help. I don't know what kind of strings you had to pull but I will always remember cashing my first check for day work. That is the most honest $100 I've ever made. Thanks for trotting through all of your country with me and telling me the names of every pasture; I've tried to remember every one.

Thanks to the cowboys who let me shoe your horses, if I can't be horseback with you I'm thankful I get to help you do your job. Thanks for trusting me with your livelihood and thanks for paying me your hard earned money.

Thanks to the cowboys who didn't laugh at me when I wanted to do cowboy stuff but who helped me instead.

Thanks especially to the cowboys who call me a cowboy, there is no bigger compliment.

Our country is...I can't continue without being deported...

Other countries, take note. If you make these, I will come.

I have a game I like to play, I refer to it as 'Attempting To Find Hope In Humanity.' I peruse Facebook until I find an over-shared post that is completely irrelevant or blatantly false and I scroll through the comments until I find someone that fell off into a Brittani approved rant about how wrong everyone is. Then I slow clap for the seemingly last shred of intelligence left on planet earth and I often click on the person's name and find out some basic information about said genius.

I've arrived at a fairly accurate estimate that 99% of these scholars are of foreign origin.

*gasp* Foreigners? If you're half as narrow minded as I am
(someone else's words, not mine) then you would also believe that all foreigners wear butt flaps and live in thatched roof huts on stilts. I'm under the impression that most of them die from childhood malaria and raids amongst feuding tribes.

Yet, some how, there are some greats minds that rise from the depths of disparity and horrors of oppression to become intellectual, well spoken individuals with an alarmingly natural bit of common sense and more understanding of the English language than a country that has been solely English speaking since, ever. (I'm talking Christopher Columbus, not Indians, just to be clear and not racist, God forbid.)

Why did I even notice that the people I was impressed by were Australians, Zimbabweans, South Africans and New Zealanders? Because American's are too far immersed in a deep, dark, bottomless hole of ignorance. Some people are still interested in world leadership, the current state of affairs and whether or not we are all going to die like turkeys in the rain because we are too damn stupid.

Twerking, text message lingo, race wars, Obama, twelve year olds dressing like prostitutes, pop music, people bashing hunters and ranchers, PETA, and for the love of all things holy, POLITICAL CORRECTNESS. I want to continue but I'm just irritating myself.     

I'll wrap this up before I have to climb into my straight jacket for the evening. Can't we just start caring about the things that matter? We're not number one anymore. We're not even number two. If we aren't already a joke to the world then we're on our way.

If some other country could start breeding cowpunchers that would be great because it's the only thing holding me down.

Australia, get that done please.

Today it won't stop raining...

She couldn't find a cup that was clean, the dishes have piled up for days.
So instead she took the whole bottle, there's errors in her ways.
The rain has finally done it, when it comes it really pours.
So she'll tip back that dark bottle and she'll dream of something more.

It's a warm rain this time of year, there's plenty she's lived through.
She knows because its fallen on her and she keeps coming back to you.
Throughout the years and the promises made she's never found something worth keeping.
It might be her mindset or the way that she lives that keeps her drowning in the deep end.

She'll open her eyes today or a day soon and she'll see all that she's been missing.
It's you that she's had every step of the way through all the tears and all the wishing,
and the rain will wash her memory clean like it has a habit of doing,
and all of those others that have knocked at her door won't be worth pursuing.

One day she'll look back on the path that she's chosen and she won't have any regrets.
She traveled too far and she was gone for too long but she paid off all of her debts.
That woman will reflect and she'll remember her days spent in the pouring rain,
she'll never forget your hand and how one kiss could erase decades of pain.

Her bottle is empty, the rain hasn't stopped coming, today she made up her mind.
It's you that she's wanted, your skin and your words and she knows it's not just the wine.
For too long she's faltered, but not anymore, she's only shared a dance and a goodbye,
Everyone wishes, but few get to know, she's learning how it feels to fly.