I HAVE TO Be Right

That's what my ex would tell me. That it would kill me to admit that I was wrong.

So, in trying to become a more mature adult I'm trying to let go of my NEED to be right all the time. The other day, I was out riding around with S when I pointed to a platte of land that now has a strip mall going up on it and said, "Wow, that went up fast. Wonder what they did with the cows?"

S, "What kind of cows were they?"

Me, thinking back and remembering light brown ones I said, "Jerseys."

S, with that smirk you give to a cute child when they mess something up (Okay, that smirk bugged me a little . . . no, a lot.) "You mean, gurnsey?"

Me, "No, Jersey."

S, still with the smirk, "It's gurnsey."

Me, letting it go because I don't always HAVE TO be right, "Okay . . . whatever."

So, I just did some Google Image searching and what do I find?

Go ahead, check it out:


A JERSEY COW MUTHAFUCKAH!!!! Representin' with it's badass mohawk.

This my dears is what used to reside where there is now construction for a new mini mall.

Not . . . a gurnsey, which, as it happens, is black and white.

I'm still working on not NEEDING to be right, but when I am . . . I just . . .

AM, NEBRASKA BOY!

Totally Short Changed

Because, how is it that I've gone 30 years without ever having had a boy, or man, sing this to me:


Crossroads, seem to come and go, yeah.
The gypsy flies from coast to coast

Knowing many, loving none,
Bearing sorrow havin’ fun,
But back home he’ll always run
To sweet Melissa... mmm...

Freight train, each car looks the same, all the same.
And no one knows the gypsy’s name

No one hears his lonely sigh,
There are no blankets where he lies.
In all his deepest dreams the gypsy flies
With sweet Melissa... mmm...

Again the morning’s come,
Again he’s on the run,
Sunbeams shining through his hair,
Appearing not to have a care.
Well, pick up your gear and gypsy roll on, roll on.

Crossroads, will you ever let him go? (lord, lord)
Will you hide the dead man’s ghost,
Or will he lie, beneath the clay,
Or will his spirit roll away?

But I know that he won’t stay without Melissa.

Yes I know that he won’t stay without Melissa.

Melissa
The Allman Brothers

Of course, and maybe it's because I loved reading Sweet Valley High novels and so I am eternally looking for cheesy romantic gestures, when I hear this song I like to pretend I'm being serenaded. Because. I'm lame.

Thanks Cingular for giving me my props, yo!

Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time I fell in love.

I was dazzled by a man whose words moved me and whose cute smile made me swoon.

My parents thought I was crazy, they said that you were too different from me. That I was too young to feel this way.

But it didn't matter to me. I'd lay in my room and fantasize about the two of us dancing together. Making everyone in the room jealous because we were the best dancers in the entire room.

Your pain was my pain. I know what it felt like to be humiliated by my daddy: my daddy beat me with the belt, too.

When tragedy struck you I cried for you. I prayed that weren't burned too badly. Mom and dad thought I was being silly.

But they didn't know!

They didn't know how much you meant to me and how much I adored you.

And now, here I sit thinking about that girl with the silly crush wondering whatever happened to you?

I stood by your side when they snickered about the elephant man bones, the hyperbaric chamber and Bubbles the Chimp.

But, Jesus Juice Michael? Inviting little boys into your bed?

I'm probably minutes away from hearing the verdict on your trial wondering whatever happened to the dashing black man in the white tux on the cover of my Thriller album.

Was it the fire, Michael?

Did catching your jerry curl on some misaimed fireworks spark your need to create Neverland?

Here it is, the verdict . . . not guilty on all counts.

And, this makes me even sadder because I just don't get it Michael.

Do you really see yourself as some sort of Peter Pan? Are you that broken that a world of fantasy is the only one you can stand to live in?

I don't get why you invite boys to sleep in your bed.

But what I REALLY don't get is the parents that would allow a sleepover at your house. Did you threaten them or were they just opportunists biding their time and waiting to stike?

I just don't know, Michael.

I just don't know.