Punchy Protagonist

In my younger days, I was not "that" girl--let's be fair I never was. Apparently, when you have the work ethic, the wit, and the grit that will rival those of the male persuasion, it does not leave many gentleman callers knocking down your door, unless they needed help halter training livestock or finishing their homework. I cannot complain much, I suppose--I was lucky enough to find some of the best and most genuine male friends through this time. To be clear, this post does not concern them in any way. Regardless, those times days were unfortunately plagued by an era of making myself be content in the background until I was gifted attention by ones that probably didn't deserve much of mine to begin with. I was too pretty to be the ugly girl but too ugly to be the pretty girl. I was good enough to flirt around with, but not much else. I was much more of a people pleaser, but I was not pleasing enough. I was good enough to hold hands with secretly, but not in public. ...

 Betrayal is a funny thing--and not in the "ha ha" way.  It comes in all kinds of forms--unkind words, stolen items, wavering loyalty, and even a catchy song in the well-known musical The Producers .  I have had betrayals throughout my life, but thankfully they have been fairly "mild" by most standards. I have not been captured by enemies, tied to a chair in some harshly-lit warehouse, only to find out that my best friend gave me away. I have not found out something nefarious about a partner which throws me unwittingly into a life of crime. I have not, to my knowledge, gotten close to someone only to find out their whole identitiy is a lie. No, my betrayals were not that cinematic. Some, even, took time and well-placed epiphanies for me to even discover they were, in fact, betrayals. For those like me that, despite evidence far to the contrary, still want to believe that the people they care about share the same desire to be there for their friends/family as they do...

  When... One word. It plagues. It haunts. It knaws. So much power To make you feel inadequate To make you feel behind Like a damned white rabbit Frantically searching for the "next important date." I'm late...I'm late... The next birthday passes Still no pitter patter. "You aren't getting any younger." "You don't have forever." "You guys need to think about..." And then always the dreaded-- WHEN. Time is such a funny thing. We cannot control it. We cannot harness it. And we only get so much of it. So WHY do we want to depress And oppress others With our opinions on spending it. Why...

Six months came and went Now I am sitting here at eight feeling sad guilty weighted The world kept spinning and I spun with it A whirlwind of distractions I tried to pick a focal point to keep from getting sick But the blurs kept spinning as I begged silently to just get off the ride. Six months came and went Now I am sitting at eight feeling tired emotional overwhelmed If I was not here If I took a cue from the old westerns you loved and rode off into the sunset with the credits rolling behind me How long until they just moved along? Six months came and went Now I am sitting at eight wondering how How the time has gone so fast How the vending machines can still work How much longer I will have to mindlessly trudge until the hurt stops

 Some of this place Is how you left it Drawers full of collections Rooms full of love How dare some call them knick knacks. The collections will go You'd say it's just stuff. The colors will change You'd say you like the blue. We will make it ours It already feels like home Maybe even more than where we are But you will always be here. And if children come However they come They will be overflowing with love Like I was. We will take rides in the pasture Maybe even the cemetery and play in the creek They will know the beauty of the world. And we will make pallets in the floor for beds And eat cheese sandwiches late at night And you will always be here.

 A very dear friend of mine posted on social media once about a family member that had passed away. She listed all the things they taught her, lots of good memories and skills she still uses. She ended the post by expressing that the one thing they didn't teach her was how to  live without them.  Truer words... The five stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Or that's what "they" say. If you ask me, the five stages of grief are aksdnfa;ohn['aoingalkdn'[oaidngalksdngfa;osidf because honestly grief is just a big ol jumbled mess of emotions that can change from one second to the next. Anything can be a trigger to take you forward a stage or back three.  Maybe this falls under depression. Maybe it does not fall under anything.  But here it is and here I am, feeling it's weight at the most random of times. It began a few days ago when I sewed up some holes in my husband's pants. I did a decent job and even replaced the ne...

I am not sure if I am more hyper-aware of sayings and quotes about grief due to recent events, or maybe social media really has gotten to the point of mind reading, which I've honestly suspected. Either way, consciously or unconsciously, more of them have been popping up lately. "I've been reading that the brain is like a muscle. It's why getting over a death is so hard, because your brain has been trained to feel things for a person, and when they go away, your head is still operating under the impression that it should feel those things for that person, like muscle memory." -Dan Levy, Good Grief "Grief doesn't want attention. Grief is a hand on your chest. A hand no one can see." -- Steven Dietz , This Random World "And why does nothing change? Why does the vending machine keep working? Why do the phones still ring? Shouldn’t something be different?" -Steven Dietz, This Random World "What is grief, if not love persevering." -Vi...

There have been some recent events that have made me think more about family. Not just the word, but the meaning and the concept. There are a few dictionary definitions when it comes to the term "family."   a group of persons of common ancestry a people or group of peoples regarded as deriving from a common stock But, at least to me, family is more than what any dictionary can define. Family is the people that are there for you when it counts. They are the ones that laugh with you until you hurt and hug you harder when you are hurting. The ones that you would come running for in a heartbeat and you know they would do the same for you. The ones that check on you--care about you--accept and appreciate you for who you are. And sometimes the reality of the situation is that those people may not be blood relation. They may not be relation at all.  The reality is that sometimes those that should live up to my description, sadly, do not. In my 33 years on this Earth I have reali...

 Normalize calling people out when they are acting like jerks. Hear me out. I know that we live in a society where, around every corner, there is someone just waiting to be offended about something. I also know there is something to be said about picking your battles. Being a teacher, I inadvertently stumbled into knowing a lot about this. In my mother's words, sometimes you have to decide whether it's "a hill you want to die on." I have also noticed that we live in a society that seems to be devoid of the concept of consequences. It is "easier," in whatever fictional rationality some people have made, to let individuals be. I have heard a phrase along the lines of people "living their truth." People are under the impression that they and they alone inhabit the center of the universe. Everyone and everything revolves around them, their opinions, and what they had for breakfast that morning. Nothing is as important as whatever is in that precious li...

 I have not posted about losing my beloved corgi, Hardy. I have mentioned it, fully and completely planning on dedicating a post to him, but I have not. I could not. Every time my fingers began to type, the lump in my throat would come back and I would have to relive that day over in my head. Even as I type now, my fingers shake and feel as though they might cramp. Blogging is usually so cathartic for me, so therapeutic. There are so many times that the only way I can truly express my feelings and thoughts is through writing. I am hopeful that as I type these, I will gain some sort of relief or release. Because, as of this moment, the knots in my stomach and throat say otherwise. When I close my eyes some nights, I can still see his little lifeless body on our bedroom floor. After a day of coaxing him from under the porch and trying several suggested treatments, he passed in a place that he felt comfort, a place where he spent so many nights when he would get too hot in the bed wit...

 These kinds of things just don't happen... around here. to us. to people like that. right now. this soon. Versions of this same sad song seem to play on repeat.... when they found her car in the river when I got the text about her brother when I saw the picture of us on the memorial slideshow when he text them where to find his body when she called my mother sobbing when 9 years did not seem like enough time I have thought this all too often lately. I am not naïve. I have been privy to such things for years. I know they exist. But now, left to my own devices, they haunt me. In such volume and so close to this heart of mine...I did not imagine. The truth is none of us know. What is happening. What will happen.  I should have seen the signs. I could have done more. What could I have changed? Why? Darkness is not my friend. Neither is solitude. My tears seem to cleanse what my heart wants to leak out, but it does not cleanse my mind. Not of the thoughts of what was. Not of the t...

This video shows a sad day in Arkansas as a brightly-clad crowd stood on the steps of the Arkansas Capitol Building belting out "Seasons of Love" in protest of a new proposed bill. Senate Bill 43 l in (and I regrettably say this at the moment) my home state wants to limit what they are calling "drag" performances, putting them in the same category as strip clubs and putting many restrictions on places that hold these performances. They cannot be within 1,000 feet of schools, churches, etc, and prohibits them from public property. It would also prohibit those under 18 from watching. The incredibly vague definition of drag performances in the bill keeps throwing around the term "prurient interest," which I would love to pretend I did not have to Google...but I did. Apparently, it means "having or encouraging an excessive interest in sexual matters." So there you go.  I read in another article that, somehow I suppose in an attempt to "make it b...

I recently lost my sweet Corgi that has been by my side for nine years. There is an imprint on my heart that will always be his and I have so many memories with him. The loss still stings, but he was so very loved. But, this post is not about him.  This post is about our other fur kid, Rip. Before he was my husband, my other half decided that he wanted another dog, which I had no objection to. Growing up, we always ended up with more than one dog at once so it was nothing to me. He was set on a heeler or a basset hound. I figured we would discuss and search, maybe even find someone we knew that had some puppies, and go pick them out a little while after we got married.  As usual with me, life had slightly different plans. A week or so before we got married, my husband came home with the cutest little 8-week-old blue heeler puppy.  In the midst of the stress of finalizing the wedding and the changes of moving a husband in, now we were adding a puppy. I had not had a puppy ...

"You look tired." "You look stressed." 🐦 These words were uttered twice in one week right in my general direction. I'd rather they farted .  They were followed then by "rough week?" and my favorite, "you look like you're ready for a fight." Maybe I am, Skipper...want to be next on my list? Just in case it is not well-known, the last thing anyone that is tired or stressed wants to hear is that they look as such. This type of comment is only acceptable if you are holding something to help combat that stress or exhaustion. You may not think this is a harmless comment, you may think you are being sincere. But, in reality, you are merely calling attention to something that we are already aware of, and something that we do not want to be. Do people ever stop and think before they point out the obvious that maybe there are reasons behind the disheveled look and the slumped shoulders? Maybe it is temporary....a bad night's sleep or a particu...

 You have seen us. Gathered around the show ring, leaning against the fence.  The has-beens. We may be teaching our own students the skills taught to us years ago. We may be toting around our children, holding halters and reminding them to have fun. We may be helping run the show, wanting the same experiences for youth that we had. We may just be there as spectators or in the ring as open exhibitors. Either way it comes, we are around...and those straight backs and intense stares at the judge used to be us. Just remember, one day we will all be there. We may have traded our Rockies for trouser jeans and our Fatbaby’s for Twisted Xs, but we endure. Not only do we endure, but with years in this industry comes knowledge. Knowledge and experience that can neither be imitated nor replaced. Many very late nights and very early mornings spent with family and people that became family. Losses that were hard to handle and wins that were hard fought for. Similar to the postal service, r...

R.E.S.P.E.C.T. I was talking to a fellow teacher friend of mine recently and we were reflecting on the past school year. The craziness, some funny stories, and the sheer chaos of it all. We discussed teacher shortages and how disrespectful students can be. I repeated something to her that I have said to other family and friends of mine, "when I was in high school, I would not DARE talk to a teacher the way some of these kids talk to me." My friend agreed.  She, I, and many others that I know have come to a conclusion that I am sure is not new...so many of the adolescent attitudes we are seeing, whether good or bad, stem from what they see outside of school and, more importantly, what their home lives teach them.  From what I can tell, we have a society of children, adolescents, and adults that need to listen to a little bit more Aretha Franklin. Maybe on repeat. Our pastor gave a sermon a few Sundays ago about resetting different things in our lives. One was our mouth. I defi...

 For the first time yesterday I admitted something out loud. I was tired, I had a headache, and I was ready to go home. This, unfortunately, seems to be the norm with my job lately. It started in the midst of the chaos that was a pandemic two years ago, and then carried on with the rapid fire and more chaos of trying to make up for that and accommodating all options of last school year. And now we are here again.  Tired. Tired of feeling unappreciated. Feeling like no matter what I do I am not caught up and will definitely never be ahead. Feeling like the inmates are running the asylum. Feeling like my job is 90% conflict resolution and 10% what it should be, and that's on a good day. Feeling like I am fighting an uphill battle and losing miserably. But mostly, I'm just tired. A kind of weary like there's always a weight on my shoulders or another dragon to slay around the corner.  Yesterday, out loud, I said "I could..." and then paused. On most days that phrase ...

 On the eve of my 31st birthday, I have the day off. I have been sitting watching a play I have never seen, "You Can't Take It With You," on a new Blu-Ray player because I broke our other one today while trying to pry the door open with a butter knife.  As I sit here, sipping on my Sonic drink and thinking of what kind of play I could write one day, the thought of friendships come to my mind. When I was at the store buying a new Blu-Ray player, I ran into a woman that I work with that asked me about a friend of mine. She did not know that we knew each other and asked probably the most loaded question for me to answer..."How do you know her?" I explained to her that my friend and I were very close in high school, played basketball together and went to church together. That I had also graduated and been good friends with her husband. We exchanged goodbye pleasantries but I kept thinking about my friend. What I should have answered was "you do not have the tim...

 I had, just a few hours before, posted about good memories and sweet times. I had posted about being where I am and the future and doing things I love. But last night something changed. Something hit me. Maybe it was sleep deprivation, maybe it was the fruity danger in my glass, maybe it was my husband leaving for work. Maybe it was a bad cocktail of a combination of dark thoughts and even darker skies. Last week was so busy that I did not have time to dwell on many emotions, and definitely did not have time to have mixed ones. If I am honest, I am so tired of feeling tired the majority of the time, or on my way to being there. I know it is just not getting over one exhausting event before moving to something "completely different" as Monty Python would put it, but I can also tell that I am not as young as I used to be.  We lost a calf last week.  I had named him Olly because he was born close to my Papaw's birthday. We had to bottle feed him for a while when he was youn...

Small town summers are made around it.  Prizes are won and lost at it. Chris Ledoux and Tim McGraw sang songs about it. That's right. I have survived another year of the county fair. Ever since I was a young tike, I have loved the county fair. When I was younger, I longed to show my cattle, walk around the bright midway lights with my friends, listen to my Papaw's stories of past adventures and vehicles at the car show, and crawl up on the family wagon that we parked arena-side to cheer on the annual PRCA rodeo.  These are parts of the county fair I still enjoy, but they are a little different now.  I watch the same excited and anxious looks I had on the junior's faces as I help them get ready for the livestock show. I cheer them on from the sidelines and offer help and guidance when needed. Instead of getting to miss school, I am now responsible for the ones that do. My family and I show in the open show, a one-night appearance of friendly competition fit in between busy...