THE JEAN POOL

Recently, I went shopping with my daughter – it’s a little different here as the nearest real mall is 30+ miles down the road. As we wandered through a clothing store sporting a sea of jean styles, I had a thought: wow, this sure beats the “jean” pool back home. Hmmm, jean pool. What? Oh, ha, ha, ha, yes, very funny… lost in thought… unfamiliar territory. I’ll put it and your humor into my GPS. So, as I was saying, jean pool. Now, that’s not to be confused with that ‘other’ gene pool. This jean pool is the one you’re likely to find at a local bar not your community college science lab.

In a rural area you’re likely to see jean labels like Wrangler, Cruel Girl (no, not a reference to your ex), or Cinch. And, be honest, we’re all a bit prone to ‘label shopping’ (me, I’m mostly a Wrangler gal myself).  Problem is, in the country, sometimes the available jean pool can be a little shallow. So, just like taking my daughter to the nearest mall sometimes we have to find a way to a deeper pool.

Yep, here we go again with the internet thing. As with wading out into any pool ya gotta be careful where you step; otherwise, you could end up stepping on something that bites and/or smells (and not in a good way either). Believe me, the internet jean pool can be full of more critters than Ellie Mae Clampitt had in her cement pond.

My suggestion to the people who come up with those ‘cowboy’, ‘farmer’, and ‘country’ dating websites: If you’d focus more on getting people into the right JEAN pool as opposed to the right GENE pool, you might find you'd have more success than Kim Kardashian has. You may say - "it's all in the genes", but I hear - "it's all in the jeans". (Of course, there’s always the possibility of pulling the drain plug on that jean pool only to discover that the guy with the right ‘jeans’ was never even in there – he had been onshore waiting patiently holding your towel for you.)

Today’s point: In love, as in style, the right jeans are all about the right fit.

WHAT A SHOCK

I don’t date jerks… Ok, quit spitting coffee out your nose – that was only cute when you were 5. You didn’t let me finish… I don’t date jerks BY CHOICE. My relationship luck is more like buying a lottery ticket with all 6 winning numbers – from the previous week’s drawing. 

One thing I’ll say about it though, it sure seems to bring out the best in my friends when it happens and for that I’m grateful. As I was having lunch with the lead mares the other day, I realized just how lucky I am in that respect. You see, while there are probably times they’d like to GPS the men with the butterfly nets for me, instead they listen then, we all laugh. This was the case with what happened to me recently. 

My last relationship end was absolutely a real shocker for everyone around me.  In fact, it was kinda like taking your cousin’s dare and touching the electric fence wire to see if it’s hot only to find out that it was! And, I must admit for a bit I felt about as good as if it zapped me. But, like the pain of child birth, that stinging is subsiding with time. That’s due in great part to my great friends who usually know just what to say at just the right time to say it. 

Here’s one example: I was talking to the boyfriend of a good friend of mine recently who knows how to put things into perspective. He’s by nature a very kind and funny person anyway but this has to be his best line to date. He asked me how I was doing and said how sorry he was to hear about what happened. I thanked him and told him it’s just the way things seem to go with me and love. His reply is one I’ll never forget: “You know… we’re all alike… WE ALL FART IN BED!”  

Somewhere in there, there’s a grain of truth to that if you think about it (once you quit laughing). We all have our sweet side and our smelly. If it starts smelling like a barn stall full of manure, though, it may be time to ‘clean out the stall’.

Today’s Moral: If you’re smart you’ll realize only have to hit that hot wire fence once to realize you don’t want to do it again. 

A BUM STEER

When you exit the donkey corral, please remember to shut the gate behind you so none of them end up with the rest of the herd… Thank you.  As I’ve told you before, I’m here to try to impart some of my hard-learned lessons in the affairs of the heart and have I got a doozy for you today.

For some time now I’ve been in a relationship that until recently I would have described as perfect for me… he and I share a love of horses, our kids and a country way of life. So far so good right? Yeah, well, that’s what I thought too – until I realized he suffered from what I call the ‘pouting and punishing phenomenon’… no, that’s not some S&M game but thanks for that image! No, this is where your partner gets upset with you and rather than voicing their dismay they take it out on you with things like pouting, withholding the sweet things they normally say, or forgetting to call or text when normally they’d be on the phone quicker than Secretariat hitting the race track. Well, I’ve never been fond of that game (for me it’s like running a barrel race without a timer – you’re in it to win it but no one really does.)

Guys, let me give you a little advice here: if you want to remain a stallion in your filly’s barn remember this – if she’s making a 110 mile round trip multiple times a week just to see you then REMEMBER SHE’S MAKING A 110 MILE ROUND TRIP MULTIPLE TIMES A WEEK JUST TO SEE YOU. We understand your love for roping or whatever other hobby you have, believe me, we really do. But if you expect to keep playing saddle blanket bingo with that little filly you should occasionally take a night off from chasing steers and chase your filly around the barn instead! 

My fellow mares and fillies this one is for you: If you’re making a 110 mile round trip multiple times a week to see your stud muffin pay close attention to his actions and what is NOT being said. If instead of paying attention to you, your needs and your efforts he’s paying for saddles, ropes and things like that then you need to take the blinkers off to see if you’re as important to him as he is to you. If the answer to that isn’t an obvious YES then he may be the roper but, honey, you’re the one with the ‘bum steer’.

NO MAKEUP... NO PROBLEM

I’m probably a ‘take no prisoners’ type personality which in some aspects would be more attractive on a guy in some settings… New York… Boston… you get the picture. Anyway, with that personality goes the verbage. I’ve been told on occasion (ok, ok, on lots of occasions) that I could make a sailor blush when I get wound up. Sorry, I’ll wait for you to wipe that mock shock off your face. Better now? The thing is, with no one around you to call you out on it well, you just kinda tend to keep doing it. And if I were bartending at a longshoremen bar in Boston I’d most likely be right at home but, I’m not.

And, speaking of looks, being in this relationship is eye-opening to me – mostly looking right at me actually. First, when he didn’t ask if the relationship plane had a parachute at the first sight of me without makeup I figured I had a pretty good shot.

Guys, let me help you out here - when your lady let’s you see her without makeup that first time she’s actually making a much bigger statement. It’s a serious statement on her trust in you. And I’m so glad I made it over that particular jump still in the saddle. So, a word to the wise here: when she trusts you enough to show you her true look don’t be like one moron I was told about. I suggest you not later say something like “I prefer you with makeup”. That’s kinda like telling someone they have a great face for radio and her staying with you is about as likely as a barrel racer winning the NFR on a three-legged horse.

Moral of the story today is just like in a Grand Prix jump, in any relationship about the time you recover your stride from one jump, there’s another one up ahead. In a Grand Prix, knocking down a rail can cause you to stumble and earn you a fault but keeping your composure and making smart choices can get you across that finish line with a good time and a good run.  Guess the same could be said for relationships…

IT'S "HUG YOUR HONEY" DAY - somewhere

Well, I’m almost afraid to jinx it but so far so good. I am officially in a real grown-up relationship – with a real grown-up even! It’s a promising start to a trail ride that I sincerely hope doesn’t end like a pack mule going over a cliff in the Grand Canyon.

 

It’s interesting actually; he didn’t even ask where the eject button was when I explained about writing this blog or some of the colorful escapades which were the background and cause of it in the first place. What? Seriously? I didn’t tell you how we met? Oh, sorry. Well, you’re not gonna believe it but we met online. Oh, come on, what are you 12?! Now please go get me a paper towel so I can wipe your coffee off my glasses thank you very much. As I was saying – yes, we met online and he is perfectly normal… no hang-ups, no horrific habits, no hand-me-down drama (just the way I like it).

 

As a matter of fact, we went to the Fort Worth Stockshow and Rodeo the other night and something happened that was just short of amazing. Please, must you always go ‘there’?! After the rodeo we stayed to visit with a good friend of mine (a male friend) that I hadn’t seen in several months. Well, me being me, without even thinking twice about it I ran right up and hugged my friend squealing a happy greeting. Yes, I instantly introduced my date and my friend and we all had a terrific visit.

 

What’s what? Oh, the amazing, right. Anyway, it wasn’t even until sometime later that I realized what had happened (or really what had NOT happened) – NO SCENE. For my part I probably should have warned my boyfriend that I have a habit of greeting all of my friends (male and female alike) with a hug – that’s just how I am. But, I didn’t, and as it turns out, it actually gave me another insight into my darling. There was no tantrum verbal or silent. You’ve never heard of a silent tantrum? Sure you have. Those are the ones that are kinda like the silent alarm going off during a jewelry heist – trouble’s acoming down the trail you just don’t know it yet. In this case, FORTUNATELY, it took a left at the fork in the trail before it got to me.

 

So with this, allow me to provide a teachable moment. First, always let your other half know that hugs are not just reserved for them and cute puppies. Second, make sure you hug your other half longer than you hug your friends so they can see the difference!

 

A hug is merely a universal sign of appreciation while a tantrum is a universal sign of depreciation.  I propose we have a “HUG YOUR HONEY” day. Why not? We have a day for everything else!

THERE'S HOPE YET

Ladies, listen up, I have news you can use…THERE’S HOPE YET! Even for us single girls in the country. I know, I know, I can’t believe myself I drank the kool-aid. But I did and I must confess I liked it – I really, really liked it.

I can tell you this, if you’ve ever spent two hours getting all shined up for a first date including adjusting and re-tuning your make-up, fussing with your hair and changing clothes multiple times you’ll so appreciate this because I had done just that and was ready with literally no seconds to spare. But I had done it and I was quite proud of myself if I do say so myself. I had finally fixed up and dressed up just like I wanted.

He arrived and didn’t appear to be looking for the eject button or the fire exit so I was double proud… right up to the time I looked down and realized I had put on my old barn boots rather than my nice dress boots. When I saw that I wanted to crawl under the table – guys get THAT image out of your mind – but here’s the real surprise. My date not only didn’t mind he thought it was just fine. So moral of the story here: if you find a guy who thinks your barn boots are sexy my advice is ‘HANG ON TO HIM’… Umm, just not this him – this him is mine!

Ok, I’ll start back from the beginning. Well, as you recall when last we met I was about as lucky in love as someone who won the lottery… two days after they passed away. So, I decided to take a little break from it all. I’ve been sitting back pondering my options rather than pounding the keyboard. Honestly, I think that’s what did it. I needed to take some time and evaluate what was going on in my life and my soul. Must you always snort beer through your nose when I mention my heart or the like? So…yes… my soul.

I honestly had all but given up; I was starting to think that a happy relationship for me was about as likely as me skipping through the woods hand in hand with Winnie the Pooh. Then, it happened. The text came through, the clouds parted and the angels sang. Hey – this is my story and I’m telling it the way I want – clouds gone… angels present… and so was the sun.

This was someone I had communicated with off and on for some time and at this point it had been some time since it had been on. But, there it was. Huh? What did what say? Oh, right, the text. Actually it was rather innocent, just one of those ‘sorry lost touch… how you doin’ type texts. Didn’t matter to me, I was just happy to see it.

Yes, I know, you’re probably reading this thinking… ok she’s been mule-kicked and, normally, if I wrote these things you’d probably be right but, not this time. What’s changed? Well, for starters, me. I’ve decided that with the start of the new year perhaps it’s time for a new adventure. After all, adventures can be anything from a non-swimmer facing the challenges of white water rafting, or someone afraid of heights going rock climbing. For me, it’s the adventure of a heart looking for its true beat. Since it’s unchartered territory for me, I thought I’d share the expedition with you (ha, ha, yes I know like I can get lost with people always telling me where to go).

Seriously, Lewis & Clark didn’t have GPS. Surely, I can find the end to my maze. Come with me for the trip. Like Lewis & Clark there may be hardships, forked trails (or at times even no trails) and periods of total darkness but, with the right guide, a new trail can be blazed. 

Saddle up…