So yes I know I already posted today. But I need to makeup for the entire past month that I abandoned ya’ll. I know it broke your heart. And… well… I am sick and there is absolutely nothing better to do. Talking to Sara always makes me feel better, but I can’t talk because of my sore throat… So I will just write.
As the title says. I am not your typical girl. I have always known this, but it was yet again brought to my attention this past weekend by my seven year old cousin, Jade. We were in the truck, waiting for my mom and brother, and I had a heavy black coat on.
Jade: That’s not a girl jacket.
Me: Uh… no, I guess it’s not.
Jade: Then why are you wearing it?
Me: Because I like it and it keeps me warm.
Jade: But if you are a girl, you have to wear girly things.
Me: No, not necessarily.
Jade: Yes you do. Do you ever wear dresses?
Me: Are you kidding? No!
Jade: Why don’t you cut your hair and become a boy then?
Me: *stares in awe*
So I am not a girl, according to my little cousin. No, I have never been a girly girl. Ever. When I was little…
I never played with Barbies or baby dolls. Well, okay so I did… But the Barbies were Nancy Drew and Annie Oakley, and the baby dolls were captives of the ‘bad guy’ aka my brother that I had to rescue when we played “Criminal”.
I would go swimming in the dirt tank and have Mud Massacres with my brother.
I would disappear on my horse for hours at a time, out bareback in the pasture, since I was about 5, and pretend I was a pioneer girl heading out to get supplies for my family on the frontier.
My brother and I both had a slingshot, and we would pretend we were on the fields of battle.
We had some Barbary (I think that is what you call them) sheep. When Daddy was away from headquarters, Tyler and I would head and heel them (with our ropes, duh), then take turns riding them around the pen til one of us fell off. And I never remember it hurting… We just laughed and laughed and did it again.
I climbed trees and brought home baby rabbits, turtles and toads and lizards. More than once we kept a turtle either on the porch or in the back of a truck we never used for about a week before turning it loose.
I would make forts in the hay barn with hay bales, and playpens for baby kitties.
I was never a girly girl, and I’m still not.
I’m often outside in the mornings when it is 18 degrees out, halter breaking frisky and stubborn colts.
I still enjoy jumping bareback on my horse and disappearing into the pasture.
I spend my Wednesday and Friday nights sitting on the couch with my Daddy watching cage fights. And I recognize the names/faces of most of the guys fighting.
I don’t get scared when I get bucked off a horse- I look at it as a lesson, a chance to learn something, and just get on again and see if I can sit him this time.
I don’t like nice pretty new cars- I love the old 88’ blue extended cab Ford sitting in front of the house. I love junk trucks.
I would much much much rather be outside mudding on the four-wheeler, riding bareback, working with colts, or just helping my Daddy outside than be on the phone, computer, or watching TV.
I’m just not a girly girl.
I love my Wranglers, and will never wear designer jeans. I love my boots, which are way more comfortable than tennis shoes. Flip flops are ugly and hurt my toes. Straighteners and curling iron are foreign objects to me. Bad hair days are just an excellent opportunity to throw on a cap.
Cage fights. I mentioned them. My mom finds it hilarious that I love watching cage fights. The sport of cage fighting has been around for about 20 years, but was only shown on Pay-Per-View. Recently the WEC (one of the cage fighting organizations) went truly public, so the UFC followed. So my Daddy started watching it, and I began to, and now I love watching cage fights. Some people have their soap operas- Daddy and I have cage fighting. And Tyler isn’t even interested in it at all, which is the funny thing. I find it immensely entertaining. I mean come on- two guys in a cage, beating each other up. Now if I watch boxing, kick boxing, or wrestling I find it boring because all of that is combined in cage fighting.
Girly girls don’t like cage fighting.
I love cage fighting.