I recently gave my dear friend and non-biological little sister the most valuable advice of her life; “I thought I'd taught you better. If a man opens his mouth and words come out... Those words are lies. 100% of the time.”
Bitter much? Why, yes, indeed I am. Like most girls my age, my heart has gone through a boot camp of sorts. It’s been stretched, beat down, broken, degraded, abandoned, forgotten, pressed to its limit. Being from the country, though, I’m well aware of the functionality of duct tape and have mended this heart of mine. Because of this, my heart is more heavily guarded than Buckingham Palace.
As a result, I don’t like boys.
Duke and Dutchess were the meanest duo of Doberman dogs you’ve ever met. At least that’s how I remember them. All because I tried to ride one of the massive canines like a horse, she snapped at me. As a 5-year-old, being on the receiving end of “snapping” by a 95 lb. dog meant “biting.” To a future drama queen, it meant “biting ferociously and almost killing me with its razor-like teeth.” Think along the lines of Kujo.
As a result, I don’t like dogs.
Some claim that you can ‘read’ a person by looking into their eyes. Other’s argue that it’s the palm, in fact, where a person’s story is found. Some even say you can learn all you need to know about a person by the grip of their handshake. Me? I disagree with them all. The secret is in the shoes. Boys, take notes. Flip flops indicate a girl who is easy going and laid back. Flats are found on the cutesy type. Heels, the higher the better, are reserved for the sassy, sexy, confident woman… or the one’s men like to call materialistic and high maintenance. Gentleman, you don’t know the half of it. There’s another domain of shoes that shame the soles of women globally…
As a result, I don’t like Crocs.
Then came my mid-life crisis. Yes, age 25 is the middle of my life because there is no way I’ll be able to afford all the cosmetic surgery I’ll need after the age of 50.
I now have a dog, a Doberman if you must know; my sweet little Dixie girl. Although her ancestor almost took my life, Dixie is sure to protect it. Because of that four-legged, furry ball of fabulous, I have someone waiting on me every time I come home. Because of her snaggle-toothed grin, I’m safe from intruders who don’t know she only uses those teeth to smile. Dixie has been quite a blessing.
As a result, I don’t think dogs are so bad. I’d consider myself a dog lover, in fact.
I hate that there’s an exception to every rule. I like for things to be black and white; life issues, photos where my complexion looks washed out, and cocktail dresses. Imagine the confusion that took residence in my head when I discovered that some boys are funny, honest, and sincere. It’s a case where the exception to the rule is highly favorable.
“We were given two hands to hold, two legs to walk, two eyes to see, two ears to listen, but why only one heart? Because the other was given to someone else for us to find.” – Author Unknown
Some of my very, dearest have friends have done just that. My sweet Katie is absolutely glowing with happiness as she laughs with her silly beau. Brandy and Neeley are literally staring at the starting line of forever, waiting to begin. Brooke and Kody keep me daily entertained with their posts to or about each other. My cousins Justin and Jarrod have wonderful wives who are excellent mothers and building happy families together. My most favorite lady alive, Cathey, is the epitome of the Proverbs 31 woman, wife, and mother and has a jewel of a husband who cherishes her. Anna and Poppy are still enjoying each other; traveling, riding motorcycles, and causing all kinds of ruckus.
As a result, I don’t think boys are so bad. I’d consider myself hopeful, in fact.
“I’m ready to feel now, no longer am I afraid of the fall down. It must be time to move on now, without the fear of how it might end. I guess I’m ready to love again.” –Lady A
As for Crocs, well, I will never find a justification or change my mind about them. For a girl barely hitting the height of 5’4, I need the highest heels I can find. Crocs just can’t do the job. Sorry, Jerm. Your shoes are tragically ugly.
Like dogs and boys, I’ve never appreciated eggrolls. They look and smell putridly. Then came The Hungry Girl 200 under 200 cook book. When my sweet friend insisted we cook the nasty ‘Sassy Southwestern Eggroll’ recipe, I simply couldn’t be so rude as to tell her “no.”
As a result, I don’t think eggrolls are so bad. I’d consider them delish, in fact.
Lessons Learned:
1.) There is hope in the exception to the rule.
2.) Do a 180, and life can be completely different with a new point of view.
3.) Crocs are the ultimate fashion faux-paus.
Bitter much? Why, yes, indeed I am. Like most girls my age, my heart has gone through a boot camp of sorts. It’s been stretched, beat down, broken, degraded, abandoned, forgotten, pressed to its limit. Being from the country, though, I’m well aware of the functionality of duct tape and have mended this heart of mine. Because of this, my heart is more heavily guarded than Buckingham Palace.
As a result, I don’t like boys.
Duke and Dutchess were the meanest duo of Doberman dogs you’ve ever met. At least that’s how I remember them. All because I tried to ride one of the massive canines like a horse, she snapped at me. As a 5-year-old, being on the receiving end of “snapping” by a 95 lb. dog meant “biting.” To a future drama queen, it meant “biting ferociously and almost killing me with its razor-like teeth.” Think along the lines of Kujo.
As a result, I don’t like dogs.
Some claim that you can ‘read’ a person by looking into their eyes. Other’s argue that it’s the palm, in fact, where a person’s story is found. Some even say you can learn all you need to know about a person by the grip of their handshake. Me? I disagree with them all. The secret is in the shoes. Boys, take notes. Flip flops indicate a girl who is easy going and laid back. Flats are found on the cutesy type. Heels, the higher the better, are reserved for the sassy, sexy, confident woman… or the one’s men like to call materialistic and high maintenance. Gentleman, you don’t know the half of it. There’s another domain of shoes that shame the soles of women globally…
As a result, I don’t like Crocs.
Then came my mid-life crisis. Yes, age 25 is the middle of my life because there is no way I’ll be able to afford all the cosmetic surgery I’ll need after the age of 50.
I now have a dog, a Doberman if you must know; my sweet little Dixie girl. Although her ancestor almost took my life, Dixie is sure to protect it. Because of that four-legged, furry ball of fabulous, I have someone waiting on me every time I come home. Because of her snaggle-toothed grin, I’m safe from intruders who don’t know she only uses those teeth to smile. Dixie has been quite a blessing.
As a result, I don’t think dogs are so bad. I’d consider myself a dog lover, in fact.
I hate that there’s an exception to every rule. I like for things to be black and white; life issues, photos where my complexion looks washed out, and cocktail dresses. Imagine the confusion that took residence in my head when I discovered that some boys are funny, honest, and sincere. It’s a case where the exception to the rule is highly favorable.
“We were given two hands to hold, two legs to walk, two eyes to see, two ears to listen, but why only one heart? Because the other was given to someone else for us to find.” – Author Unknown
Some of my very, dearest have friends have done just that. My sweet Katie is absolutely glowing with happiness as she laughs with her silly beau. Brandy and Neeley are literally staring at the starting line of forever, waiting to begin. Brooke and Kody keep me daily entertained with their posts to or about each other. My cousins Justin and Jarrod have wonderful wives who are excellent mothers and building happy families together. My most favorite lady alive, Cathey, is the epitome of the Proverbs 31 woman, wife, and mother and has a jewel of a husband who cherishes her. Anna and Poppy are still enjoying each other; traveling, riding motorcycles, and causing all kinds of ruckus.
As a result, I don’t think boys are so bad. I’d consider myself hopeful, in fact.
“I’m ready to feel now, no longer am I afraid of the fall down. It must be time to move on now, without the fear of how it might end. I guess I’m ready to love again.” –Lady A
As for Crocs, well, I will never find a justification or change my mind about them. For a girl barely hitting the height of 5’4, I need the highest heels I can find. Crocs just can’t do the job. Sorry, Jerm. Your shoes are tragically ugly.
Like dogs and boys, I’ve never appreciated eggrolls. They look and smell putridly. Then came The Hungry Girl 200 under 200 cook book. When my sweet friend insisted we cook the nasty ‘Sassy Southwestern Eggroll’ recipe, I simply couldn’t be so rude as to tell her “no.”
As a result, I don’t think eggrolls are so bad. I’d consider them delish, in fact.
Lessons Learned:
1.) There is hope in the exception to the rule.
2.) Do a 180, and life can be completely different with a new point of view.
3.) Crocs are the ultimate fashion faux-paus.
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