How I Will One Day Embarrass My Hypothetical Future Children

When I was 14 my family packed into the minivan to travel from MN to Jackson Hole, WY. We were on our way to a family reunion. It can't get more exciting than that, people. This was a gathering of my mom's family and more specifically, of my mom's mom's family. (I could just of easily have said "My maternal grandmother" but I always chuckle when people go through the relationship tree: my dad's sister's crazy daughter's husband vs. my cousin's husband.) And let me tell you, while my mom's sisters (I did it again just for you) are crazier than she is, she is definitely less inhibited and more likely to make a complete fool of herself.

On with the story: One afternoon we (me, my mom, and a few of my aunts) were walking through a grocery store and saw a crate full of fruit with a sign reading: MANGOES. My mother loudly and enthusiastically exclaimed, "Ooh, mangoes! I hate mangoes." On the same shopping 'adventure' she wondered off on her own down an aisle of boxed foods and began to clipitty-clop in her cowboy boots. She then ran around to find us in the next aisle over and excitedly asked, "Did I sound like a horse? Did I? Did I?" Did I mention I was 14? OH MY GOD; I was mortified. So, that is the story of My Mom, the Grocery Store and the Cowboy Boots.

Happiness Is...

Thirteen Things that make me happy:

Steeerike!

Bowling season is now officially here once again. Last night was my first night of league and it was everything I expected. That's just not nice. Why can't it be better than I remembered? Why can't it be fun? Why can't it only take an hour? Sheesh. I didn't get home until 10:30 AT NIGHT! That's just crazy.

Anyway, it was nice to see a few of the people that I hadn't seen all summer long. And it was a nice reminder that even when things change they tend to stay the same, for example this is a conversation I overheard between two guys at bowling last year:

Roy: I see you got some new jeans there, Jonny.

Jon: Yeah, I just bought ‘em.

Roy: Next time you should see about buying a butt to put in them.

Me to Jon: Tell him, ‘you can’t buy ass in Minnesota.’ (I just had to add that in for you all since I thought it was funny. You can all laugh now. No, not at me, at the excellent joke I made.)

Last night Roy said to Jon, "Hey Jonny, I thought I told you last year to get a butt for those jeans." Yes, he really thinks he's funny. This comment resulted in an uproar of laughter from his teammates. Don't judge me by the league company I keep; there aren't very many options.

Also on the topics of strikes--my friend is on strike right now. I'm not sure about all the issues, but I'm glad she's supporting what she believes in.

And I need to write about Q, but later; it's a sensitive subject right now.

Who I'm Not

I'm not single or tall.
I'm not a man or a parent or even a godparent.
I'm not a cat lover or chocolate lover.
I don't like Caribou Coffee or Red Lobster.
I'm not a vegetarian.
I'm not funny, but I try to be.
I’ve never lived by myself.
I'm not self-employed, unemployed or a homemaker.
I don't wear navy, orange or brown, or a lot of green or yellow.
I don't bite my nails or get manicures.
I don't like socks.
I don't mind being considered 'the girl next door.'
I'm not a republican, singer, 'cake-eater' or bus rider.
I’m not big-breasted or flat-chested.
I don't own a SUV.
I'm not sad, flakey or tight-lipped.
I’m neither rich nor poor.
I don’t watch the local news.
I don’t really watch the news at all.
I still don’t like Macy’s. (RIP Marshall Field's.)
I don’t use my home phone.
I don’t have blue eyes or wear contacts.
I’ve never been to Mexico, cheated on a partner or watched Dawson’s Creek.
I don’t carry cash or wear a watch.
I don’t work out as much as I’d like to.
I don’t initiate conversation very often or very well.

So who am I? Ask me a question.
I don’t hide much.