somedays i go all meredith grey on you readers.

ok, so everything i write is a soliloquy that comes out of my head worthy of meredith grey. for those of you who have never watched grey’s anatomy (truth time: until 2 weeks ago i had never seen a single episode of the huge phenomenon that is grey’s anatomy so if you haven’t seen it, i understand), the main character, meredith grey, has (in almost every single episode) a monologue at the beginning and end of the episode that talks about the world through her eyes. how she sees different events, how she believes the human race lives, you get the point.

so i kinda do this to all of you readers. it’s just in print form and i don’t know nearly the medical terminology that dr. grey does.

oh, and i write my own stuff because my life is not a tv show and i don’t have a group of writers that pick out what they think should go in my head. and i’m not a fictional character.

anyways! so what have i been up to lately you ask? ok so you don’t ask, but, i’m gonna tell you anyways. because i can.

i may or may not have mentioned that i can’t grow plants for shit. yes, i’m southern, and i’m sure somewhere along the line, i have farmers in my family history. my dad has grown gardens before. but, it’s never really been my thing. i’ve always been the one who wants to be outside and look at everything. explore, take pictures, push myself up the side of a mountain. you get it. so… i kinda don’t have the green thumb in me. i have never kept a houseplant alive, with flowers, about the best i can do is keep cut ones fresh in a vase for a week or two. well, my dad mentioned to me a couple of weeks ago that he wasn’t going to fool with planting his garden this year and asked if i wanted to use the space. so, my friend ash (yeah, the one from the roller derby) and i decided to give it a shot.

am i crazy? probably. will anything come up? probably not. but… we. planted. a. garden. oh and we had fun doing it. but there’s not much ash and i do that doesn’t lead to fun. we are fun girls. now if only we had thought to add some alcohol to that garden party? we could have topped our expectations entirely.

doing things that aren’t necessarily one of your favorite things to do with one of your best friends always makes it better. bonus: WORKOUT!

now, i am not a farmer, i would rather be in the city than a pasture. but, i do like fresh produce and our farmers market, as much as i love it, is far from cheap. so i’ll give it a shot. we will see what happens.

part 2.

i’ve recently learned a very hard lesson in giving… up. you don’t know me that well, but i don’t give up on things that are important to me. i think someone once described me as tenacious (i’m using a lot of big words in this post… yay me!). i grab onto things that i value (family, friends, education, etc.) and i do whatever it takes. i don’t want to lose these things because they are who i am. they make up a part of me. and until recently, i thought if i ever let go, not only would i lose that connection, i would lose a part of my makeup (no, not the shit i put on my face).

but you know the saying “you can’t beat a dead horse?” well… you can’t.

there comes a point where the give and the take has to have balance. now that doesn’t necessarily mean 50-50. it’s not a quid-pro-quo kind of thing. but, at some point in giving, sometimes you have to give up. the strange thing, especially for someone like me, is that giving up on something does not mean i’ve failed. it’s actually kind of liberating to just let it go. once something you value starts to become negative, it begins to hurt you.

another thing i’ve learned. when you give up on something that is truly worth giving up on? you don’t lose the good that was there. the good part of you never goes away. it’s similar to closure. letting go. you remember the good even more because the negative is no longer draining that part of you.

now, if i’m not making sense, i’m sorry. and i’m not telling you that i think everything is worth giving up on. there is a line that you have to find within yourself that means the difference between giving, and giving up.

also, there are some things that should never be given up on, hope, love, yourself… some things are just too precious.

to end on a fun note, a joke:

“what do you call a boomerang that doesn’t come back?

a stick.”



jeez, i really hope i don’t offend anyone but…

ok, i really try not to stereotype people. as i have mentioned before, yes i will judge you (i can admit that it is a fault of mine), but it will damn sure not be because i believe you to fit a stereotype. following that logic, i can not stand to be stereotyped. ugh. i have been stereotyped all of my life because of the way i look, where i’m from, hell, sometimes even because of my last name (although that particular stereotype is one that by chance does fit me: “crazy but in a good way”). by all means, label someone AFTER you know them but do not stereotype them before.

i have been stereotyped under many different things throughout the years, some of which are very contradictory: tomboy, girlie (see? opposite), crazy, poor, well-off, middle-class, lazy, energetic, well… you get the point. what brings you this latest rant (hopefully chock full of good humor as well) is the stereotype of “country girl.” i sincerely ask anyone who truly knows me if i could be labeled a “country girl?”

really? what is a stereotypical “country girl?” do not get me wrong. i do NOT think that being labeled a country girl is a bad thing, i think being stereotyped a country girl with no factual basis is a bad thing. in no way shape or form is the label bad, the stereotype is. in fact, some of the most amazing, strong, sweetest, and generally fantastic girls that i know would consider themselves “country girls.”

i however, don’t think of myself as such. i’m from the country, well sort of except that it is actually a quite large town with a thriving, and well-known university, but i really don’t like cowboy boots (on me), fishing, farming, or any of the other activities other people generally associate with a country girl. i work in a world of academia and books. so what in the world brought someone to label me as such?

see below conversation:

subject a: oh so where are you from?

myself: (insert typical smallish town here), in any state south of the mason dixon or in the midwest

subject a: well you must be one of those country girls!

GAH! (by the way, subject a doesn’t even know my last name, yet he/she will make assumptions) yes, this is an actual conversation that i have had many times.

so what is the difference between a stereotype and a label?

Wikipedia defines label as:

1. An item used to identify something or someone, as a small piece of paper or cloth attached to an article to designate its origin, owner, contents, use, or destination.
2. A descriptive term; an epithet.
3. A distinctive name or trademark identifying a product or manufacturer, especially a recording company.
whereas stereotype is defined as:
1. A conventional, formulaic, and oversimplified conception, opinion, or image.
2. One that is regarded as embodying or conforming to a set image or type.
i know… there is a very small difference in the semantics here so i will tell you how i interpret them: a label is a descriptor that defines what it embodies, a stereotype is the embodiment of a set descriptor. basically, a label is fact, a stereotype is an assumption. and we all know what happens when you assume (please let me know if i need to tell you what happens)…
so i suppose the moral of my rant is don’t try to tell someone who you assume they are. give them time to tell you themselves who they are. if someone comes up to you and says “hells yes i’m a country girl and proud!” let them own it. and embrace them for who they define themselves as. but know them before you label them and never stereotype.