Texas Style Mayberry

One day, not so many years ago, I worked a classic car auction in Texas.

Bid 1000 would ya give two? Two, would you give three? I see that hand! $3000, $3000, $3000, would you give four?

I determined that since I was in Texas for the first time in my life that I would leave for the airport early when the auction was complete. I wanted to explore on the way. As I drove, I passed by cheesy pottery dealers and open expanses of field, but one exit caught my eye. The sign boasted a small town historic district.

It was about lunch time so I decided to pull over.

I cannot for the life of me recall the name of the town but I remember driving down the abandoned Main Street. It was Sunday and it appeared as if most folks were in church or sleeping.

Despite the quiet, I noticed there was a section of Main Street where cars lined the streets. Wearing gray pants,a black shirt and high heels, I walked into the restaurant and the whole town was inside. I looked out of place but I bought myself a cup o' chili (because that is what you eat in Texas) and listened to the guitar-playing man in the corner.

As the waitress was serving my food, the cowboy singer broke out into the song I Got Friends In Low Places and the whole room started to sing along. The waitresses clapped and men in flannel shirts patted their neighbors backs.

I couldn't believe it. I had been transported back to the time that deep down we all wish it was but are too uptight to admit. I couldn't make myself clap or sing though. I just smiled and stuffed my face with chili.

Next time I go to a small town in Texas, I am going to sing along with the cowboys. I will also replace my heels for a flannel shirt.

Dancing with the Vampires

I usually spend my weekends relaxing with my husband. But since he has been out of town, my days have been spent a little differently.

Last weekend I had a lot of alone time. I can handle this most of the time but there comes a point when I have done everything that I can think of to do and cabin fever sets in.

Last Saturday I watched two hours of tennis, paid bills, cleaned the house and ran errands to three different locations all before 11:30am. I was on a roll.

When I returned home from the errands I stood in the living room for awhile trying to concoct some amazing plan to fill the rest of my day. The song Horchata by Vampire Weekend was playing on my computer and I suddenly had the urge to run. So while the song was on repeat I danced and sang my way around the kitchen and living room. This lasted for about fifteen minutes.

I guess cabin fever can be fun. Right now I am looking at the herding marks in the carpet that I created from that moment of insanity. (Like the dirt path around my parent's house that was formed by the family dog Bailey.)

Who says that you can't dance in your living room by yourself when you're 26? I plan on doing it when I am 60.

Bare Cracks and Birthdays

I turn 26 years old today. Honestly, I was over the idea of a birthday when I turned 13 years old. I used to sing the Toys R US song. Do you remember it?

I don't want to grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid. There are a million toys at Toys R Us that I can play with...

Every year on my birthday and the day before it, my mother recounts what she was doing and how she was feeling. My father used to tell the story about how I didn't want to come out. I was too comfortable. He would demonstrate the doctor's stance. "He grabbed this tool that looked like salad tongs and pulled your head. I thought he was gonna rip your head off! Dr. Warrener was pulling you so hard that he was shaking!"

I will spare you the remaining details of my birth.

Moving on.

I have some good Birthday memories like receiving that Garth Brooks CD in elementary school. The thunder rolls and the lightning strikes. Another love grows cold on a sleepless niiiiggght. My family didn't understand my fascination with country music. Looking back, I don't get it either.

In celebration of this day, I think I am going to jam to Garth Brooks in my office. Sharon and Brandy- if you hear The American Honkey Tonk Bar Association, I am not a crazy hillbilly.  I'm just in the mood to listen to a song about bare cracks, gun racks and six packs.

At least I won't demonstrate how the doctor delivered me with salad tongs. Oh wait, I already did that yesterday.