Saturday, May 31, 2008

The Art Show

Today is the 41st Annual Red Cloud Art Show here on the reservation. It is the largest Indian Art show on a reservation in the country.

I am hyped! Especially since this is my sister Jaida's first ever art show, whom most of you know because I use her photography all the time in my blogs. Here are her entries.

"Waiting" By Jaida Grey Eagle $75


"I never knew his name" By Jaida Grey Eagle $75


"Somewhere in Wonderland" by Jaida Grey Eagle $75


All are 8x10 prints of 50.

I can see such good things for her.

I better go get ready for work.

Keep it tight, people.

Friday, May 30, 2008

New To Me Lappy and a hater

First off, my brother Trav is in town and I joined the revolution. I now have a more of my diseased up pc that takes almost as long to upload as it does for Paula Abdul to form a complete sentence. Yay for that!

Now i hired summer help. two are really cool, one isn't. He already missed a day, Fucks off. So today he tells me that some lady that I bought a quilt from don't like me. At all. I was like so?

He was like she said your writing is bland and you have nothing to talk about.

I was like well I do WRITE on the OPINION page andI don't give a fuck what she thinks, I don't even know her. She don't have to read it.

He was like I didn't mean to ruin your day.

I was like Why would it ruin my day, everyone has their own opinion and I don't write for her.

I write for me.

*in my mind I bitch slapped him*

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Open Letter To Reservation Border Towns

Dear Border Town,

I have lived amongst all of you for most of my life, even living in two border towns in my life. I admit, it is better than it used to be. For the most part, most of the residents have accepted that we are part of your economy. I no longer get followed in the small drugstores or glared at like I did when I was a child. Now I am greeted as if the owner knows, that yes, my money spends like everyone else's. As if the reservation border towns, for the most part know that they might dry up and blow away without the money that comes from our a tumbleweed. But, there are still some issues I still have with border towns.

Such as:

Slumlords- who know that people that move off the reservation looking to make a home somewhere because the housing situation here is horrible. People that are so desperate for a home of their own, they move into apartments with no windows, trailers with holes in the floor and cockroaches. They move into homes that would never pass a HUD inspection, but these slumlords are allowed to do this because there are no housing inspections in these towns. they are allowed to do this because some people are so desperate to raise their families in their own house but after moving in, their dreams are dashed by by the slumlords and the falling apart dwelling. I was happy to see a former landlord of mine being sued by his former American Indian tenants but disappointed when the complaints were thrown out of court. It brought me back to the day I talked on the phone with a lawyer who encouraged me to sue my landlord, then hastily hung up on me when he realized the landlord I was talking about was his client. Someday, maybe things will change.

Schools- I had a hard time at a few schools that were not on the reservation. My kids will tell you I get fired up too easy. But the worst experience was living in a border town right off the reservation, when DSS would not leave me alone. I was visited at my home and asked if I was homeless. One of my kids splashed in a mud puddle on the way to school, which resulted in another visit from DSS and the sheriff to see if I had a washer and dryer. That was only 2 out of 6 visits in 3 months. I was thankful to leave and move back to the reservation, even if it meant moving away from the friendships I made there. I didn't move away quietly , I did raise hell and get in touch wth state senators about the I was treated. I did get workers in trouble. I was happy with the way I handled it.

History-We share a history with you, bordertowns. Our great chiefs and leaders have probably walked your roads and I am sure many of you have our blood flowing through yours that you may have only been able to admit lately when it became "cool." But to not honor our history draws a clear line of where we all stand. The divide and border is there. Maybe it is because of the shame of your treatment to us over the years, but to not even honor that shared history by putting up your own museums and tourist traps really, without acknowledging the still alive and beautiful culture next door? How could you selll Made in China beadwork and trinkets as if it was made by the local Lakotas? Doyou know how offending that is to those of us who survive off of our arts and crafts? Do you know right next door on the reservation ae some of the most beautiful crafters and artisans in the world, who not only show their pride fiercely in what they do, but survive on it on a daily basis? How could you sell imported stuff, when we are still here?

Those are just some of my rants, admit it border towns, you need us for our cash flow just as much as we still need you for supplies? We need to work on our pure disdain for you in your treatment of us, just as much as you need to work on your pure disdain of us for the fact that we were here first.

Example: Rapid City, South Dakota-May 9th, 2008- My aunt and I pull into The Foothills Innon LaCrosse Street because there was a sign promising rooms for $34.99. I went in. Can I get one on the first floor, my aunt has Rhumetoid Athritis, I ask. No those are the "Deluxe" rooms,she says. What are those?, I ask. Those are a "higher class" of room, she says. I look at the orange and brown carpeting in the lobby, smell the old drafty smell, and say Really, where where are the $34.99 rooms on the sign? She snaps her gum and blows a bubble. Those are on the second floor, she twirls her hair. I sigh, Fine I will take one of those...near the door because like I said my aunt is disabled.

I am gonna need a hundred dollar deposit she says.

WHAT!? Now I know it's because of my skin color! Forget it! Keep you're damn deluxe rooms! I leave. Plus, I knew I didn't have the hundred dollar deposit.

My aunt went in the next hotel and was treated nice as pie. Of course they could have treated me nice there too, but I was too intimidated to go in.


Now that was a rant that has been building up for 36 years!

Tuesday, May 27, 2008


My dad, brother, and I took the kids fishing yesterday.

My dad bought Justice a pink Barbie fishing pole.

It was cold and windy, not at all beautiful fishing weather.

The dam, Whiteclay Dam was all polluted. The kids were teasing and laughing at how there was a naked Barbie fish, diaper fish, beercan fish. It was gross that the only place to go fishing was so polluted and that people don't care to honor their envirment anymore.

The boys all stood with their fishing poles, my dad stood with his, Trav was busy helping everyone fish, cast, and whatever. I was going to and from my car to warm up. I guess when you are a kid you don't notice when the weather is cold, as long as you are doing something.

By the time Travis got his boys situated, he fixed Justice's pole. She stood there fishing for the first time in her life. My dad kept reminding me how much we used to fish when we was little kids and he would take us fishing. Then he decided it was too cold and the fish weren't biting anyway.

Then it happened. Justice's bobber started going up and down. Jalen helped her reel, or showed her how and sure enough she was the only one to catch a little perch that day.

Amongst the floating trash of the grimy dam, and in the windy cold weather, we all experienced a moment of beauty.

For the rest of her life, Justice is going to remember when she caught her first fish. She was going to remember her grandpa and uncle taking her fishing with her little pink pole and being the only one among the boys and men to catch a fish.

She didn't see the trash and polluted water or complain about the cold, like I did. She just felt pride in herself.

I love being able to see things through the eyes of children. They always seem to find the beauty in life, no matter what.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Rain...rain....please stay

It has been raining here for the past few days....

I even already paid someone to do yardwork for me and they can't until it stops.

I don't mind, we live in a very dry place and to me all this rain feels good, the reservation is so green, it's about time.

So because everything looks so pretty and green, the rain can stay as long as the rain wants to.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Welcome to my couch...

So I never let shit get me down.

I get pissed and I cry and it's over.

I am by no means Mary Poppins.

But I don't elaborate over my feelings and slurp smart water in some persons office that has a piece of paper on the wall that allows them to charge hundreds an hour to listen to MY problems.

I mean why pay someone to listen to MY problems when I created them, or gave someone else the ability to make me care enough that I think it's a problem.

Not like I would be able to actually pay someone that money.

I just don't think of life as being that hard that I need to pay for someone to listen.

I just go with the flow and if I have a problem, I blog it.

And I listen.

*scratches chin*

Gotta problem? I listen...welcome to my couch in the middle of nowhere.

(If you want to see my qualifications, I was "Dear Angel" in the jr high paper.)

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Random Writing Challenge #16

For the Random Writing Challenge, using the first sentence to build a story.

How could this be happening now?

How did I end up here? With this crazy chick named Dana. It felt like just yesterday, I was all brand new and shit. Then she snatched me up and has been using the hell out of me every since then.

I admit the attention was cool at first. Now she walks all over me and makes me tired every night. I didn't want all this. I just wanted to sit in the corner somewhere, and let her maybe walk all over with me once in a great while. But she loves me.

She loves me so much, that crazy bitch takes me to work almost every day. That's a little too much "together time", if you know what I mean.

I'm not "that kind of guy." I just want to go back in the closet, I don't think this chick is for me. I don't need this psycho shit. Im going to blow up soon and scream at her "THROW ME BACK IN THE CLOSET, PSYCHO!!!"


Dana's Green Chuck Taylors

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Brother Simon and the goldfish.

At the beautiful Heritage Center at Red Cloud School, I walk around sometimes in awe. I look at it and think of how proud Brother Simon must be of what he accomplished in his lifetime here on Earth. Yes, it is my place of employment, so I am somewhat biased and proud. But have you ever been there? So many people have never even been in the store and live here. When they do come in, they look around and say "I never knew this was all here! Wow!"

We are here for the people. We are here to show you the beauty and pride the Lakota have in their artwork. We are like many of the other places on the reservation that aid in showing the beauty of the local artwork. Like Rosie at Singing Horse Trading Post and Bruce at Lakota Crafters Co-op.

The Heritage Center was not possible without Brother Simon. Brother Simon was assigned to the Holy Rosary in 1964. He then spent the next 42 years working among the Lakota people he loved so much. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have this job. He took an interest in the art of the people so much, he pretty much single handedly built The Heritage Center and the annual art show he started in 1969, that is one of the best in the country.

He dedicated his whole life to making the world see and know the beauty of the Lakota people through their art.

In working there, so many people tell me stories of Brother Simon. Tell me how funny he was and how good he treated people. I met him maybe two times before he passed away. But in being hired by Red Cloud School and in a lost file in my desk, I discovered my own story.

The school has goldfish that live in the classroom during the school year. In the summer they get moved to Brother Schleinger's Courtyard, which is right outside of The Heritage Center. It was an invite to the goldfish from Brother Simon. Asking them to spend their summer vacation away from their tiny glass condos and spend it in the courtyard pond. Amongst the beautiful lilacs and tulips and away from the crowded and busy classrooms. He ended the letter by saying "Remember, what happens in Brother Schleinger's Courtyard, Stays in Brother Schleingers Courtyard."

I asked my boss what the letter was about and he explained to me that every year the fish get invited personally by Brother Simon. The teachers read it to the students and the goldfish have their official welcome to summer vacation. I asked if I could invite them back since Brother Simon was gone. He said sure. So I sent an apology and invited them to their summer vacation. They answered back that they would be delighted to spend the summer in the courtyard and they were bringing some frog friends this year.

Brother Simon was indeed a great man, he did many great things for the people of the Pine Ridge reservation. He even took the time to care about the goldfish, too.

That story is worth a smile in honor if Brother Simon.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Friday Five-Best Memories of Mom

We are close in age, so we kinda grew up together. She had me at 17.

1. My mom was always the prettiest of all the other kids moms. I remember always being like, yeah...that's my mom. She still is the prettiest..

2. My mom taught me to be resourceful, so no matter how hard times seemed I always had a way out, a scheme, or art to sell.

3. My mom taught me to be strong. Some of my ex's call me a bitch, but I am proud of being able to stand up for myself and not take shit.

4. My mom was always cool as hell to hang out with. Many times we hung out at the Gay 90's in Minneapolis and went to an after hours club, ending the night at Mickey's Diner in St. Paul eating hash browns. My mom was always a dare devil. I'm not but I have lived vicariously through her. She followed Prince in a summer tour, she traveled to Iran in her 20's and during a real crisis...she didn't see Iran for how the media potrayed them, she saw the beauty of the country, culture, and people. She had a picnic in Paris, walked down the Champs-Elysees, interned at NBC, cooked for Tom Brokaw in our kitchen, taught me to make the best eggrolls, she came face to face with Prince on his lawn, she stole his ball! (For that game you play with balls on a lawn.) she moved more times than anyone can count, read hundreds of books and the most amazing of all, she had 7 of the smartest kids in the world.

5. Sitting on her deck, smoking a cigarette with her. This is the most simple time, but the most treasured. This is where everything and anything I write about that matters comes from. This is when we talk about life. I miss those times. We still talk on the phone...the other day I told her about my kids not being so close to me...she said "It breaks your heart to see them grow up, but they are their own person. All you can do is let them go and hope they make some smart choices." Damn, she is so smart. Happy Birthday to my mom Jeaneen.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Sorry, but she is not you....

So he was here today, back on the reservation he promised many things.

Here is a link.

I didn't go, I watched it on the news like last time I was here when he was in 99 but at the time I was a big supporter of him.

I still think he's cool and whatever, but I don't really see all the progress he made here.

I know he had a big part in building the Suanne Center, which is great, I just wished it was in town...especially with the price of gas and wished it was fee for kids to attend. I know the $10 yearly membership fee isn't much, but when you think that the average per cap here is $6,000 a year which is probably mostly ot single parent families, which boils down to 500 a month and I know some families that live on less than that, the last thing you want to spend 10 bucks on is a yearly memebership to a Boys and Girls club for your kids to go somewhere that you can't afford the gas money or maybe don't even have a car to take them there. Most likely you will be buying the food on sale for the next 3 meals or maybe putting in enough gas to get you from point A to point B...and who knows? You might not even get to point B with these rates. I know becaus eI was there just a few, short 5 months ago.

Since Bill Clinton's last visit here, we moved from the poorest county in the nation to the second poorest. I heard him just now on the news, promising grants and money to help our people, not once mentioning treaties. I heard him saying we can move forward as America's forgotten people....I wondered if this is really so.

I remembered 9 years ago seeing Clinton sitting in the "Igs", (which is an area of housing here since no street here really has a name except Combat Alley, which is where all the bootleggers live,) anyway, Clinton sat on the steps of a lady's small 5 bedroom house. she begged him for change, she wanted a solution to the housing problem because she lived in her house with 28 other people. Clinton promised her a solution. The press took pictures of him on that rickety porch.

Next thing I know, the next time I came home, she is rollin in a nice car, has a nice house rset right where her old house used to be. I was like "DAMN...did he give her a car now???"

My cousins all laughed "No, she's just one of the biggest drug dealers in town now."

I was like WTF????

Yeah, it wasn't fair. But like all things good and easy, things must end...she ended up getting busted and going to prison.

Soooo............anyway, I didn't get to see Clinton, I don't support his wife either, if she really wanted our vote, she would come here herself. She, however, is not him...whih is too bad because I really used to like her and still admire her, except for the dirty politics she is playing. Maybe our voter turnout sucks like everywhere else, BUT I remember when I lived away from here and a couple of times, the power in the Senate or House came down to a county on a reservation in South Dakota. We matter, the news called us the "Forgotten Americans", fuck that...we will make a difference, even if we're poor.

Besides that I am a Lakota, before I am an American.

(And maybe I didn't get to see Clinton, but I did sell the handmade beaded bolo tie to the guy that picked it up so the kids can present it to him, you will see in the future if the "hex" I put on it worked. ;)

41st Annual Indian Art Show at Red Cloud School

I am working furiously on a project for this. If I make the deadline I will let you see the piece.

Here is the link.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Ina means mom

There was a lady named Molichika Beauvois. (left) Grandma Molly had 5 kids. She is in that picture with Louise and Julie. Grandma Louise is on the right. Julie in the middle. In this picture they are drying meat. Grandma Louise went on to marry Levi Amiotte and Grandma Julie married Jim Wilson.

Grandma Louise had 12 children. The two youngest were twins. She named them Darlene and Darwin. But they were nicknamed Dod and Bogie. dod is on the left, Bogie is in the middle and Erna is to the right, she was born a year before the twins. Bogie started me on my bartending skills by tipping me to get him a beer and dump his ashtray. Erna and Dod are the only two still alive. Dod lives on the reservation and Erna lives back in West Virginia.

Dod married a man named Hobart but the mariage didn't last. He was from the city and a boxer. They did have one girl from this marriage and named her Jeaneen. Jeaneen has no full brothers or sisters but she is the oldest of 8 on Dod's side and the oldest of six on Hobart's side. Jeaneen married Bob, her high school sweethear and had two children from him, but only stayed with him for 6 years. She then went on to marry a brilliant engineer from Iran named Behshid and then married Robert in 1982, whom she stayed with for 16 years.

The oldest of Jeaneen's is Dana who never married until after she had four kids. She married briefly like a damn celebrity but only because she does things in the moment, otherwise life will justv pass you by. While she is currently seperated, she is still happy and content with her life, not knowing if she will ever be able to have a man in her life yet.

Dana had only one girl after bearing 3 sons. She named her Justice.

Justice has dark eyes like all the women pictured above and reminds Dana of her mom.

dana 017

Let's hope she lives a long life, loves as much as all the women above and doesn't go through as much heart ache as they did and has beautiful daughter too. Good luck Justice.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Listen To Me

*Chief Sitting Bull. Tabloka Iyotakan (beaded)

I read the news last week online.

I usually avoid Rapid City Journal online, because I get too fired up when I see anonymous commenters say anything online that pertains to Indians. But a friend called and told me to look it up. Like I said before, I am not the brightest bead on a pair of moccasins and I won't pretend I know more than the average ina just because I write for this paper. I could easily sit here with a thesaurus and change my writing to words I don't even understand, but then who would understand it? No one would read it and my point would be lost. My strong point when I write is not how political I can get, or how well I write technically, or sometimes, even if I have a point. My strong point is how real I am. I write to you all like this is my personal journal, but I write for you.

So, instead of writing to you and explaining what the deal is with the Black Hills,because the average hoksila probably knows more facts and numbers than me...I am breaking it down this way, just sit back, read, and listen.

I know who we are, as Lakotas. I know what we stand for and fought for. These are my people and I am proud to say that because if given a choice and if reincarnation is true, I will only be Lakota.

I always remember that old song about Craxy Horse that says "when you see the Black Hills, remember me." And I admit everytime I pass Red Shirt table and get closer to Rapid, as soon as the Black Hills appear on the horizon, I think of Crazy Horse and what he lived and died for. That is our people, our ancestors, and he gave us this pride inside us that shows on the outside.

So once again, without explaining the gaboobabillions amount of money owed to us and without naming the names I saw in the paper of people saying they need that money because they are raising children, I will break it down this way.

I wasn't there when Custer was defeated in Little Big Hornor when our people were massacred in revenge at Wounded Knee. I wasn't there in the 73 stand-off. But I am here now. I am alive now and we still, to this day have not accepted payment for the Sacred Paha Sapa. I want my kids to know this and to realize why. It was our ancestors that fought and died for those Black Hills. It was our people that won't sign the hills away for help in raising our kids. It is our people that suffer in poverty on this reservation because we are that defiant.

We could easily tap into that money, but for what a moments of greed? A new car? No. We are Lakota and we don't sell ouit. So to the lawyers who are trying to be bottom feeders off the tribes that weren't even there in any of the battles and struggles for the Black Hills, behave. The Paha Sapa will always belong to Lakotas and will always be stolen.

I drove through the Black Hills last weekend. I thought long and hard about everything I read in the past two weeks. As my friend and I drove through Custer State Park and I saw the buffalo, the prairie dogs, the eagles, the deer, the antelope, the rabbits, the magpies, the turkeys, and the squirrels all be able to live together. I thought of how amazinbg that in a protected state park, that would be amazing to some tourists, when long ago, that was just life. As Lakotas we honored that life, we honored the Black Hills, and we honored our ancestors.

Today I write this in honor of the life of the people, plants, and animals, in honor of the sacred Paha Sapa, and in honor of our ancestors. The Black Hills are not for sale, it would be nice if other Sioux tribes would recognize that.

And to the anonymous commenters of the Rapid City Journal online, maybe you do live there amongst the beauty and tourist traps, and maybe you pay taxes and maybe you have to comment anonymously because you feel like you paid for that land and it is yours. And also because you know Custer wore arrows shirts, you won't print your name,but you are living on stolen land, the governmant recognizes that, but it was never for sale.

There was a song by Pink Floyd playing on my way through the Black Hills as I was in awe at the beauty of the stolen land, it is called "Wish You Were Here." It reminded me of my ancestors and how I wished they were here, to see what some of the other Sioux tribes are trying to do. I will leave you with the lyrics, just remember, it was our ancestors that lived and died for those Hills. when you see them, remember Crazy Horse, and remember your people. The Black Hills are not for sale.

"Wish You Were Here"

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

“He Sapa Kin waken yelo, oheniya kik suyapo.” Translation: “Always remember the Black Hills are sacred.” -RST Tribal President Rodney Bordeaux

Saturday, May 10, 2008

In The City

I am in the city I love to hate.

I went to the staff banquet lst night, first time I ate somewhere with more than one start from the outside right? At least thats what that cick from Texas on Titanic said. The waitress spilled water on my back and she got iffy with this dude named Roger, that I work with.

Roger didn't like ice tea. He wanted a cook, this young, eager to please waiter got Roger a coke. When he asked the waitress, who spilled water on my back for a coke...she said it wasn't on the menu the school paid for and he could go to the vending machines if he wanted a coke. He was like WHAT?

He ended walking to the vending machines to get a coke. Now I know it wasn't on the menu but surely there was coke in the kitchen.

Really is it that hard to get a coke from the customer service staff?

We need our coke, world.

Friday, May 9, 2008

I never said

I never said leave, but he left anyway.

I never said I loved him, but I do anyway.

I never said sorry, but we have an understanding.

I never said he broke my heart, but he knew.

I never said I would be there but I was.

I never said he could have it, but he did.

I never said I needed him, sometimes I do.

I never said this was all the same dude.

Thursday, May 8, 2008


I saw Tiff A/K/A Scissor LEGS A/K/A Sunshine Punani take this quiz on the BAB blog. Her hidden talent was lying and of course I am not surprised.
Your hidden talent is writing

Your hidden talent is writing. You have a unique way of viewing the world and are able to express your thoughts eloquently on the page. Some people might think that you are weird, but you are just the next Pulitzer prize winner.
Take this quiz at
So this was my hidden I do like to write but I ain't got the mojo for it anymore. I used to have so much passion and want to write almost anything and everything down, now I see people's blogs and think, I remember when I used to be able to write so easily. Maybe it's just a wicked writer's block. Maybe because I am so busy at work. Maybe because I am watching those damn re runs of Sex and the City. Or maybe because I just ain't got shit to say....anyways if that is my hidden talent...I wished it would quit hiding.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

She really is gone

I went to my ex-MIL's house this weekend to check on her husband. I felt bad for not going to the funeral, after sharing somuch of her life with her towards the end. He is a whiteman from Alabama, who lived for the last decade loving her and claiming her grandchildren as his. He worked and they struggled the whole time, by the time his disability and back pay kicked in, she was on her deathbed already He has no immediate plans to return to Alabama.

He has grown a full beard, now.

The house was the same as she always had it in her second hand decor, but cold. Not cold in temperature,but cold as in that life that was always in there and always happy to see me, wasn't there anymore.

She was gone, not even a trace of her spirit or an echo of her laugh. I told him he is always welcome to visit, even though I knew he wouldn't.

I swallowed my tears and turned and walked away.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

I was never THAT girl

pic of my sis Jonna by my sis JaidaI was never the girl who wouldn't chip her nail polish.

I was never the girl who had a cute sneeze.

I was never the girl that could walk gracefully in heels.

I was never the girl who didn't drop food on her shirt or never spilled a drink.

I was never the girl who was petite and salads satisfied.

I was never the girl who walked along the shore staring at a man with stars in her eyes.

I was never the girl with a princess wedding.

I was never the girl who baked cookies.

I was never the girl who went to church, taught sunday school or believed.

I was never the girl that everyone wants to be.

I was just me.

From the files of Ten Little Things You didn't know about me...

NUMBER TEN- Sometimes


I type LOL

I don't even laugh, not even a giggle. (but I'm laughing on the inside, seriously...LOL)

Monday, May 5, 2008


*pic by my sis

I am so busy I don't have time to write. I feel like I am working so hard and can't keep up with everything at work and home.

This year is going by so fast. I hardly write for te paper anymore but somehow I keep up with the

This weekend is our employee banquet in the city....afterwards a bunch of us are going to a club and the next day I get to do one of my favorite pasttime with my auntie...YARD SALE. I am a pro at that.

After that lil shindig I am going out to the districts to watch R in his softball tourney.

*sigh* I can't wait for the weekend.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Friday Five Most Memorable High School Memories

*a song from the days of yore

  1. My boyfriend Galen-He wasn't the one that I ended up with, or my first love. But he is the one I should have ended up with. The first gentleman I ever knew and he showed me how a woman should be treated, with respect. For god's sake he would even pull up to my house and give me a ride to school in the morning. Always coming in and shaking my step dad's hand and having coffee with him. He would joke, "so this is how you look in the morning." laugh with my step dad then say "still beautiful." This is the first time I thought of him in a long time, maybe because Tuesday would have been his 36th birthday. I miss him still. My step dad too, same birthday and I miss him. (He went to the rival high school...the one I work for now and he egged our homecoming hay ride lol)
  2. Winning State in basketball-I was a freshman when the boys took it and a junior when the girls took it. I was there both times, as a spectator for the boys and a cheerleader for the girls
  3. Homecoming-I really tried not to care, but my mom and four aunts with the same last name were all queens in the 70's. Tradition carried on. Now I just hang with queens.
  4. Football-Our team was awesome.Not awesome enough to go to state but they kicked alot of ass. What makes it memorable are the chilly fall nights, cheer leading, hot cocoa, screaming for a first down, my bf at the time was the all state quarterback and was bad ass. (Too bad he grew up to be a crappy dad.) HS football started a passion in me I carry to this day, I already am anxious for football season. Both pro and HS, my sons are badass too.
  5. Cruising-Doesn't sound tooo exciting, but when you live in the middle of nowhere, and that's all there is to know. I guess what makes it memorable is it was a time in my life I will never get back. We cruised and listened to music, so young, carefree, sorta innocent, life was forever and laughter and we were ignorant to the possibilities of growing up and having to deal with life. Our only worry was where the hell we put the Visine and gum. We cruised.