Officially heterolicaucasianaly privileged?? (i.e. my degree at work follows this ridiculously PC'ized blog post title)

Tonight. I went to a rodeo. There were lots of cowboy boots and cowboy hats and the arena even had that poop smell. It was The Official Rodeo, and I was surrounded by Official White Heteronormative Redneckery (it kind of hurts me a little bit to capitalize that). Let me explain.

For fifteen dollars, I agreed to sit amongst white people who enjoy cracking jokes about the and making judgment calls about the people that don't normally go to The Rodeo.

While I did enjoy the overtly Christian prayer to Jesus about the safety of the cowboys and girls and the overly glorified shrine to the American flag at the beginning of The Rodeo, the jokes cracked during The Rodeo by the announcer (who, p.s., had a huge-ass mustache) and the jokes by the belligerent clownage were IQ destroying. The killer of the night for me, and the point at which I became quite ready to depart the arena, was when The Head Belligerent Clown cracked a Brokeback Mountain joke, and I was the only person within earshot of the Clown (and probably in all of Forsyth County, for that matter) that did not laugh...including my family.

That's too bad, also. Because I really could get into that whole dirt, boots and flannel thing, I'm just sayin'. *shoulder shrug*

I'm tired as fuck..but not too tired to rant. Because here at the home of BrokeBertha...all is not well in the political realm..who'da thunk?

If I have to hear one more time that Obama is a Muslim or read one more email that depicts donkeys pulling a wagon as the only means of transportation after Obama takes office and taxes our heads off, I might become Schizophrenic and/or develop some form of PTSD that causes me to become addicted to anti-anxiety medications.

Holy God, I cannot wait for November.

Having said that, the Republican running mate is pretty hott. I wonder if she bats for the Girl's Team? That would make a wonderful bit of spamfoolery, I'm just sayin'. (Maybe I should go into politicking). *chuckle*

Might as well call me a Krispy Kreme Donut Worker....not that's there's anything wrong with that...

There is something innately wrong with being up in the morning even before God!

I might just lose my brain today.

Skills...I got 'em

"All I've got is humor," I said tonight while at a friend's house cutting her hair.

"That's not true," she smiled, "you know how to cut hair, too. And without any proper training."

"Fine," I respond, huffily, "All I've got is humor and hair cutting skills. That's never going to land me a woman."

I've decided. I've decided that I'm working a random job making good money, will be out on my own soon in a city that is fucking ridiculous, can cut hair for reasonable prices, have no clue what graduate school program will ever suit me, and have friends that make zero sense but make me incredibly happy. I've decided that I am content, but at the same time, I have no idea what the fuck is going on every minute of every hour of every day. *shoulder shrug*

I am a Life Coach...when did this happen?

I have spent the better portion of the day trying to convince myself that I a) do not have stomach ulcers, b) am not a tool and c) am a charming individual.

It all started when I got home this morning, and my mom told me that the huge lump that has been on my left ankle for the last year is probably cancerous and that I need to go to the doctor to get it checked out. Then she went on to describe that my stomach aches are probably peptic ulcers. After downing four Tums and a Gas-X, I went up to my room with a huge glass of water and changed into some sweat pants. Then one of my best friends called me and said the following, "Since I've now decided that you're my Life Coach, I need you to solve my problems." Later, another good friend of mine, who I haven't spoken to all summer, called me to hear about my latest drama sagas (which in my mind negates my supposed abilities to be a successful or even somewhat helpful Life Coach--but no one listens to me anyway). Her response was validation of my charming personality, and then she promptly hung up on me.

So, what is a girl to do? Naturally, she is to watch Bravo television all evening. The line up included several Project Runway episodes which were followed by a showing of Legally Blonde (which I have now watched twice in a row). I'm going to bed, maybe my dreams will validate my existence. And if not, at least maybe I won't be so grouchy in the morning.

The world has become a mass of moving self-centered bitchiness (i.e. Civilization and It's Discontents should be recoined to the following:

I am Discontented with Civilization. Ugh

When you go to your local grocery store to purchase alcohol or cigarettes, don't you expect to be carded? Don't you especially expect this since it's the law for whomever is selling you one of those substances to card you?

If and when you got carded, would you have the gall to look the salesperson in the eye and tell them to fuck off?!

Yea, if you answered no to that last question, then we can totally be friends, if not, then don't talk to me ever again. Or at least don't talk to me today.

i don't hardly know you but i'd be willing to show you i know a way to make you smile

As is my routine (sadly enough) after running my library errands today, I went by my fruit stand on Doc Bramblett. Mr. Peach Pusher was out of peaches. *sigh* So he gave me an orange. He prefaced the gift by saying that it would be the best orange I'd ever eat. He was right. It was seedless, sweet, easy to peel and the slices separated quite easily. I ate it at my field up the road from the fruit stand.

Often I go to this field (to eat peaches/oranges) to think.


Today, when I arrived, I got so excited. The cows were out! I actually yelled this in my car. alone. to no one in particular. I was pleased to see that the port-o-potties were gone, also. So, I sat under a tree and moo'd at the cows and ate my orange. The cows were really confused about my presence. Also, I thought about sharing the orange, but I don't think the bull would have had it. The girl cows seemed happy to see me. I didn't have my camera but this is kinda what they looked like. Please note the boy cow is on the right and the girl cow is on the left (I figured I should probably not worry about drawing cow genitalia, just cuz that would be kinda creepy and plus I'm not a vet or anything). The girl cow also has rouged lips, just cuz I thought this would help the differentiation?

captions read:
Girl Cow: "Yay!"
Boy Cow: "What the fuck? also, she smells funny..."