Monthly Archives: April 2018


I remember every pair of pants, dress, skirt I ever bought. Not because they were that memorable. But because they were all too long. I tried on my wedding dress, my prom dress, some bridesmaids dresses…and every single time the cute girl that was working there had the same thing to say to me…. “Its too long for you…you don’t fit in it.”

My fellow short girls will feel my pain. There have been many cars Ive driven where I couldn’t reach the pedals. And some cars only let the seat go forward so far so you are not in danger of being too close to the airbag. Its a funny dance I do where I use my core muscles to sit tall on the very front edge of the seat so I can reach the pedals. I don’t fit.
In one apartment I rented the microwave was so high above the stove that I had to climb on the counter just to use it. I still jump a little when closing the back hatch of a tall SUV. Leggings that are meant to be calf length come to my ankles in a weird (not so cute) spot. When I go to the gynecologist and she says “spread em” for my pap smear and then follows up with…ok you’re going to need to scoot way way way down to get your feet in the stirrups…..ok further down. Im usually laying there with my ass hanging off the table and my hoo haw in the weirdest position with my ankles in the stirrups so I don’t fall. Its awesome.
I was a gay loving, womens’ rights toting, give health insurance to all voting, non church going, science loving blonde chick in Texas. Didn’t quite fit in there either.
I own a business that I run online and I cuss a lot. And my clothes never match. And I talk about how my kids are assholes, and my menopause, and my divorce, and how I don’t like a lot of people….and its not really so smart for someone trying to run a business in public. Ive been told its not the best way to run a business. I should put my BEST face forward, speak of my loving family, and look appealing to the “masses”. So don’t get political or controversial. Dont cuss. Dont complain. Dont always speak out loud whats in your head. Well…..FUCK. Once again- don’t fit. Dont fit the “mold”. Dont fit the “stereotype”. Dont “conform” to fit the “team”.
Ive spent a whole lotta years not fittin. And worrying about it. And wandering how life would be a tad easier if I just would TRY to fit in better. If Id not wear shirts with cuss words, not blare gangsta rap, not call my kids assholes, not speak up for the rights of all, not cause a stir….
It would definitely have been easier. Definitely. And I would’ve been miserable. And Im pretty sure I’d trade easy for happy every day of the weak. I don’t fit. I don’t fit a lot of things. And its fucking amazing. Be you. Do YOU. Dont try to “fit” in anywhere. Its not possible for everyone to like you or “get” you. And would you REALLY want that anyway?


I have had quite a few doctors in my life. The one I have now is so dang cool. In the past 4 years Ive been to her for strep throat, muscle spasms, tweaked back (from climbing), sinus infection, extreme fatigue, anxiety, IBS complications from Rheumatoid Arthritis, pap smears, physicals, cholesterol checks, and a plethora of other things. Crazily enough Im a very very healthy “sick” person. She knows what RA is. She knows my immune system is not exactly great. She knows my joints swell and Im in pain most of the time. She knows I don’t rest enough.

I show her pictures of me rock climbing, hiking mountains, doing Beachbody Extreme workouts, camping in the cold. I tell her about my anxiety stemming from fear of being in pain when I do these extreme things. She’s seen my neck muscle in such spasm I couldn’t leave the office to drive home. She watches my joints swell. She knows my history of miscarriage due to Autoimmune Disorder.
Here I am with an annoying fucking head cold again. Its so ridiculous that something so silly can knock you on your ass. Sore throat, cough, crap in my chest,  headache, stiff neck, fatigue, just feel poopy. Nothing life threatening just annoying as hell. My damn immune system is a bitch. More than sad Im just PISSED. I have a BIG, important hike to do next week. I have shit to do. I was planning to squeeze in climbing a 14er before Beachbody Summit and there’s a new crag I want to climb. I have goals to “lead climb” this summer. But my damn “colds” take twice as long to recover from than people with normal immune systems.
My friends and family tell me to rest. Slow down. I love you. I do. And Im trying. But on my last visit to my doctor we had this conversation…..
Me: I can’t move my neck, my body aches, Im tired, and I know I look like total ass right now but please don’t tell me I can’t do this shit anymore.
Her: You are who you are. Do not ever change that. Rest when you need to. Be careful. But climb, go, camp, run, do…as long as you can. Its who you are. Besides….even if I told you not to Im pretty sure you’d do it anyway. Go live your life. Then come here, Ill patch you up, and you can go again.
Like I said- she’s pretty bad ass.
Im tired. And sick. And feel yucky. But try to understand that since my Dad died I live by the motto that someday I’ll go down and wont get back up. So until then…I’ll keep getting back up. I may be slow, it may take more time, I may cuss my immune system, but while I CAN, I WILL. I don’t really see an alternative to that.
Im gonna go take a nap now. And swallow some cold medicine. And be grateful I know I will get up again soon and go, go, go. Because I can. Big hike SOON! Very grateful and excited for that.
I may push my body past the point she really needs to be pushed. But I’d rather cross a line and KNOW how far I can go than look at the line from behind and wonder if I could’ve…..


If I could go back to the first week of August 2006 I would’ve stayed longer. I wouldn’t have rushed away because the kids were gripy. Of all the asinine things in the world I “had” to get to IKEA to look at some shit for the house. And I wanted to be back in time to get the kids to bed at a decent hour. So I didn’t hug him. I didn’t even look back. I said “bye” and that was it. I assumed I would see him after he got back from his trip to Colorado. Like I always did. He always rode that bike far away and always came back. Always. Only not this time.
If I could go back to 2002 I would’ve visited Dallas one more time from Tyler where we were living. Andy was an infant and I had a 2 year old and never slept and the world seemed to be feeding kids, giving baths changing diapers and griping about my lack of sleep. And so when Pawpa passed I couldn’t quite forgive myself for not going back one last time to see him. I never get to go back.
If I could go back to 1999 when I found out I was pregnant for the 4th time I wouldn’t have panicked. I would’ve taken a deep breath and soaked in the joy of that moment. After so many miscarriages I was unable to enjoy one moment of my pregnancy with Maddie. All I did was worry. And panic. And I can’t get those 9 months back.
If I could go back to November 1996…I would still say yes. And know that even though it may not end the way I thought it would…it would bring me 2 children and a world of memories I wouldn’t trade for anything.
If I could go back to 1989 I would GO to my grandparents lake house one more time. I was too cool by then. Too teen-agery. Too wrapped up in myself. Grandad would get Parkinson’s eventually. And I would spend many years looking at a man in a body that wasn’t the man that taught me to fish on that dock at that lake house. I’d fish longer. And one more time. With him.
When my kids walk out the door I hug them. Hard. And long. When I think about my sister I call her. When my house is dirty I still ask my friends in. When I get asked to sleep in a field to watch the total solar eclipse I say yes. When I get my grandmother’s inheritance I buy some land. And move to a mountain.
You THINK you have time. You think.
I am researching photographers to do Maddie’s senior pictures and setting up tour dates for college campuses for her. I just walked her down the hall to her first day of Kindergarten. Just now. Only it wasn’t just now. Time is this crazy amazing thing. This gift we are given. It can seem endless and dark and last forever when we are grieving. It flies like lightening when we are trying to slow it down.
There’s times Im REALLY tired. And I don’t want to sit up and watch BMX bike documentaries with Andy. I do anyway. There’s times I don’t really feel like going rock climbing. I do anyway. There’s times I’d rather nap than go to one of Maddie’s 4 million activities. I go anyway. And you know what? I’ve never ever ever ever regretted any of those things.
You get one shot. One trip around. One chance to be a parent. One chance to be a wife, a friend, a girlfriend, a teacher, a learner, a giver, a loner, a dreamer. One chance to be alive. Live it. Love it. Say yes. DO more. Be more. Be kind. Leap without looking. Take more pictures. Laugh more. Share more. Call your friend. Hug your kid. Buy the land…..because not a day goes by that I don’t regret not turning around in that driveway and saying “fuck it I’ll go to IKEA tomorrow”. And sitting in a lawn chair and having one more beer.
“I’ve had some time to think about you
And watch the sun sink like a stone
I’ve had some time to think about you
On the long ride home”
        Patty Griffin, ‘Long Ride Home’