Super Bowl Prediction Gone Funny

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Curiosity of: NFL Memes

As some of you already know, being a Buffalo Bills fan, I absolutely hate Tom Brady, Bill Belichick and the New England Patriots. It’s a hate that spews out from my soul every season. They cheat, whine and complain until they get their own way. They pick and chose rules to follow, but only when they know how to bend them.

Some of you may think I’m biased, well, that’s probably true. I just hope Seattles D puts a whoopin’ on them this Sunday. Go Hawks! 

The week before the Super Bowl, NFL Madden makes an announcement on which team will take home the coveted Vince Lombardi trophy. This year, not-so-surprisingly, it picked the New England Patriots to defeat the 12th-Man.

As news outlets were reporting the prediction, Sports Illustrated tweeted out the happy news with a photo. While the news was disheartening, the photo was spectacular. Can you spot the wonderful error it made?

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I’d like to pause and take you through my journey at the University of North Texas for a quick moment.  I have acquired a lot of useful skill sets during my stay and personally, It doesn’t always feel like you’ve learned something, but then something occurs (you read a friends grammatically incorrect post, proof read a friends paper, or see a tweet that has violated one of the many rules of social media) and you finally get to make a full circle. ” Wow, I have learned something.”

Lesson #1: When using social media remember nothing can truly be deleted. If you work for an organization, don’t become the example of what not to do on Twitter.

With that lesson in mind, I couldn’t help but use this oops as an example. Have you been able to spot IT yet? It’s also probably safe to say, some poor soul needed to put out the tweet quickly and googled a winning image of T-Brady. A photo with confetti means they won, right?

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Actually no, the photo they used with was in fact a photo from the year they lost to Eli Manning and the New York Giants. A memory I will never forget, because I lit off fireworks with my father in Florida in celebration. Not so much the win for the Giants, but the loss for the Patriots. Yes, the hate is strong in this one.

A useful piece of advice I picked up during previous journalism/pr classes was to always pay attention to the four corners of a picture. Make sure there aren’t any weird shadows, objects sticking out from behind heads, or that the predicted winner of the Super Bowl XLIX is actually being photographed as being a winner from previous years and not the loser.

So on that note…

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Lynch’s Mob – #BeastMode

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“The NFL Enigma,” formally known as Beast Mode or by his Twitter handle @MoneyLynch, has had one of his many names in and out of headlines since last season. His performance on the field has given reporters and announcers plenty to talk about, as Marshawn Lynch is one of the top running backs in the league.

Off the field and in front of the cameras, answering press questions is one of Lynch’s favorite past-time gigs. This is where “Thanks for asking” and “I’m only here so I don’t get fined” may jog your memory if you aren’t fresh up on your football politics.

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As I will be soon thrown out into the public relations field upon my graduation, I will probably, more so than likely, run into a client, associate, business partner or whomever, that will be difficult to work with, something Lynch has proved time and time again to us. Though, as a viewer I don’t mind it one bit.

What skills would I use to become Mr. Lynch’s favorite press personal? If you watched yesterday’s press conference, than you saw a female approach Lynch with a bag of Skittles. Buttering up your subject is never frowned upon, especially when you’re trying to close a deal. Skittles capitalized on it, with their own press conference.

I have come up with a few suggestions and ideas, that I would do if I was in the press room with Beast Mode.

  • I would always bring in a bag of Skittles. It’s a good way to establish a recognizable face so he could remember you. How could you be viewed as the intruder if you’re carrying a bag of his favorite candy?
  • “No Harm No Foul.” I wouldn’t prepare questions that focus on the game. “Who was your athletic super hero growing up?” “What’s your favorite color?” “Who is your role model?” He may not answer them, but eventually he might. We know he won’t answer football related questions, so it couldn’t hurt to try. Plus, I’d advise this after a few bags of Skittles.
  • Understand the bigger picture. Lynch isn’t in a battle royale with the media so don’t take it personal. His fight is with the league, a bunch of old white guys who are getting rich off him while they sit in their comfy leather chairs. A little bit of George Orwell 1984 going on there.
  • Think outside the box. Lynch isn’t impressed with crowds of people shoving microphones, lights, cameras and questions in his face. Maybe a one-on-one setting could be arranged. It would fulfill Big Brothers media clause, Lynch wouldn’t get fined, and said reporter could arrange a setting that put Lynch playing offense (which every body knows he’s good at) instead of defense.
  • You should be upfront and honest. Lynch hasn’t had a squeaky clean image in life, but the media sure didn’t help it at all either. Understand why he distrusts the media and go from there.

Players and coaches have nothing but nice things to say about the guy. So what does that tell us? People who tend to distrust outsiders isn’t new and I can sympathize. When you decide to trust someone and assume it’s mutual, it can be a hard pill to swallow when it isn’t returned.

People in “showbiz” seem to forget that social aspect to what they do. Instead they focus on their timeline and what the job is and what needs to be done.

I think Lynch would like me, plus I wouldn’t be in it for a paycheck. I would just want to listen to what he has to say. No trick questions to trip him up and say something the media would like to repeat over and over for the rest of the week. I also won’t fine him for not obeying my rules ….

 If you got the chance to ask Marshawn Lynch a question, what would it be?

Farewell Joni

There’s a scary reality that all living things face – death and its finality.

At night, when you nestle your head into that pillow or each morning when you pull out of the driveway, it never feels like it may be the last time you do it. You expect to see your home again, wake up from your slumber and return to doing the same routine things you do every day, the same way you have for years.

It’s never intended to be the very last time you grab your keys, slip underneath the covers or check the rearview mirror while leaving.

I got a frantic phone call this morning, in the wee hours before the sun was up. I usually go into work at 7 a.m. so I was shocked to see “Worrrrrrrrkkkkkkk” popping up on my phone. My immediate thought is “Sheet, I’m late!”

“Hey – it’s Wayne, there’s an emergency. I don’t have any openers and I’ve tried calling the other 7o’clock servers but have gotten no answer. I need you to come in early, I’ll explain then, please, I’m sorry for waking you up, but I need you.”

While I was still not sure if I was dreaming or not, I mumbled “of course.” I rolled out of bed and stumbled through the dark halls trying to find the back door. My dogs knew I was up and expected me to let them out and then feed them. I cursed whoever it was that caused me to be woken early.

My shoes were the last thing I needed to find and as I searched I began to register the voice of my frantic, breathless and somewhat desperate tone of voice my manager had so early in the morning. I tend to go straight to worse case scenario, a trait I swore I wouldn’t receive from my mother, and I hardly will say them out-loud.

Although I wouldn’t say it or let myself to think it, I had a horrible feeling and knew something bad had happened. The thought sat in the back of my mind, hiding somewhere behind my eyes, holding its breath waiting for someone to confirm its truth.

Finally, I made it to the front door of my workplace. As I stumbled into into the building, I realized I looked like I had indeed just rolled out of bed. My apron was untied and hanging from my neck, my shirt was buttoned but I missed one, in one hand my belt and the other a grapefruit.

My fear got the best of me as I headed towards the back of the restaurant and into the kitchen. Who wasn’t here? What’s going on?

“Oh, thank God,” I said. ” I thought something happened to you. Where’s Joni?”

“She called in, she went out last night with some friends to celebrate it being Friday. I think she had a little too much fun.”

Well, damn. I got a breathless manager calling me in early to cover, sounding frantic and encouraging my worrisome-self to imagine the worst. I had began to thought they had gotten into an accident that morning. They drive together some mornings and in Texas the highways aren’t lit through the long patches between cities, anything can jump out and derail you.

As I knocked on the office door to get my manager to swipe me in for duty, I looked into his eyes to see if they would deceive his calm demeanor. “Help me set up the store,” he said. “I’ll tell you later, just please help me.”

I stumbled down the server isle, into the refrigerator walk-in and around and back through dry storage. I gathered containers for ice and lemons, sugar to sweeten the tea and labels for the perishable items. All awhile imagining the conversation I would have with Joni the next day at work.

“Joni bologna, you know you got me in here two hours early because of your old partying bee-hind.”

I imagined what she would say also.

“I know that’s not you talkin’ to me like that! I know you know you can kiss my A double S!”

We’d laugh and she’d probably reach out to smack my butt. I’d respond with my usual, “harder” and the normal banter between us would ensue the rest of the day.

Before I knew it, my fellow opener, friend and co-worker was being called into the office. “I’ll speak to you next.”

I made myself busy for a few minutes, pouring myself a cup of coffee and stirring the right amount of sugars so It would make the color a nice caramel shade. I starred at the office window wondering if I should peek in, knowing I would know what was occurring the second I saw her face.

I peered into the window and saw tears streaming down her face and still I didn’t believe it.

It’s my turn now and as I walk into the office I crack a joke about how hot it is. “Yes Wayne, it’s hotter than Hades in here, can’t you just enjoy the cooler winter months temperatures?” With his back to me, he replies with a smart mouth joke. In the same second, he turns and looks at me with a look that can only described as regret. What ever he had to tell me, he didn’t want to.

“Joni’s sister called me this morning, there was an accident last night-early this morning and we’re not entirely sure what happened.”  He paused for a bit and then said, “she didn’t make it.”

I sat there bewildered with the truth finally showing its ugly face. I picked at the laminated calendar on the desk and fidgeted in the wheeled chair for what seemed like forever before I could simply say, “okay.”

I got up, headed towards the door and said I’d watch out for my fellow co-worker. They were close friends. I opened the door and went straight for my friend, gave her a hug and told her it wasn’t her fault and she couldn’t of prevented it.

I was a shoulder for each co-worker today, for anybody who wanted it. My shoulder was soaked with tears as they shuddered in my arms while bellowing out their sorrow and sadness. All I could do was stand there, they needed a shoulder and I wanted to be that rock for them.

I can’t remember a time in the long 8-years of serving that the back of house was silent. There was no obscenities being thrown around, or jokes being told. The grill cooks weren’t screaming for servers or vise versa. Nobody knew what to say to each other. They came into work that morning to do a job, and there were plenty of guests that needed our attention.

I came home and went to my rock, my husband. While I laid on the couch voiceless, he let me. After a substantial amount of time, he reached for my hand and asked if I would go outside with him. When I couldn’t find the words, he just nodded and said, “I know.”

Life is such a beautiful thing and it’s a shame when somebody has to die to remind you. There won’t be anymore tomorrows for my friend Joni, so make the best out of yours while you still can. Life is beautiful and shouldn’t be taken for granted.

I will miss your cackles every weekend that accompanied your crude banter. You always talked about how much you missed your mom, at least we can all find comfort in knowing you’re finally with her again. Rest in peace.

It’s In A List; Must Be Right

You know what really grinds my gears? Yes, that is a Family Guy pun.

List articles.

Especially the ones giving people relationship “advice.”

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I was perusing my newsfeeds on different social media platforms, when I saw the same article type being re-shared, over and over. The first couple of times you see something that’s being re-shared, you don’t always click to find out what the hubbub is all about – at least I don’t.

But then, it’s like you can’t take it anymore. You have to find out why everybody is re-sharing the same crap. So ya click and find out. Well that’s what happened with me and some relationship advice article. I know you’ve seen them. They usually have a title like, “How to know your relationship is doomed,” or ” Ten signs it is OVER.”

Woof.

I guess I should note that the same chick kept re-sharing the same type of articles over and over again. Kind of wanted to tell her to cool it, that we get it, and we’re sorry you’re going through this hard time. I just wish people wouldn’t air so much dirty laundry on their social media accounts. So I find it hard to be sympathetic.

Anyways, I read the article that was titled something like the latter and almost laughed myself silly. Sent the link to my husband and said, “I guess this means we’re doomed.”

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 We had a good laugh.

Have you ever Googled “How to tell your relationship is over” before? If not, you should, there are plenty of people there to tell you how your relationship should be. If that’s not a red flag than you were doomed before you read the articles.

My favorite one was from Cosmopolitan. “What your sleep position says about your relationship.” Great, now I have to worry about the way I sleep.

Another list article said if we don’t hold each other while we sleep it means there is tension is the relationship. Wait what? Does the weather account for any of this? How about the fact I’m always hot and need the house freezing to go to bed, otherwise I wake up sweating. What about it’s just not comfortable to have an arm behind my neck, my hair shoved in his face and his arm dead from the pressure? Do any of those matter?

Nah, probably not.

Another one said, “If you don’t like to listen while they talk.” Pfft. you think my husband listens to everything I say or vise versa? No. Does that mean were doomed? Hardly.

Relationships go up and down. You have rough times, times where you want to kill them, imagine what life would be like without them, and you might even play the what if game, who knows. Who cares. It’s your business. Especially if you are married, having a boyfriend may be different, and how you handle those water, maybe not. It depends on you.

I got married young, I question my decision sometimes, who wouldn’t? Thats a huge decision.

The point is, how about we stop allowing others what to dictate in our personal lives? Nobody has the same path, potion, equation or algorithm to get themselves through life. So why listen to people who want to create click bait?

Wake up people, life knows no boundaries!

Have you debunked a list article? Let me see it. It’s fun to use sarcasm, isn’t it?

Twenty-Something

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There’s a song by Macklemore that fits with the story I’m about to tell. It’s called Cowboy Boots and there’s a lick that embodies what is going on in my husband’s life and mine right now.

I was laying on the couch last night, probably around 8 p.m. – ya know, real late for us old married folk. Matt leaned over to snuggle in and watch a few episodes of Parenthood, when he made the astonishing discovery I was still wearing a bra this late in the day.

“Mark it down people!”

I would’ve rolled off the coach had I not been in the nook of the coach where the sectional meets, that sweet spot, those who have a sectional know what I’m talking about.

There’s plenty of truth though to his discovery, as embarrassing as it may be, Ha. It’s called wearing mom jeans when you have kids and get comfortable, maybe a little too comfortable around your husband, and public appearance standards drop. But, what is it called when you’re a twenty-something student with two dogs and a husband?

I still haven’t found a real job, meaning a grownup one. I waitress on the weekends, go to college during the week and intern wherever I can, gotta make those connections. So, it’s not like I have this grownup schedule, going to work 9-5, ew, being required to dress like an adult at all times.

You have to relish these times, right? One day I will have spit up on all my clothes, a grownup job, maybe not too grown and a set schedule. These times are the days our parents tell you to enjoy. No kids, no real responsibilities, less pressure, though I beg to differ sometimes.

That lick I was talking about before is bolded and the whole verse goes like this:

Hold on to what you were, forget what you’re not

The streets were ours that summer, at least those two blocks

Reminisce on those days, I guess that’s OK, you wonder why

Some grow up, move on, close the chapter, live separate lives

The twenty-something confusion before the suit and tie

Strangers become mistakes but those mistakes made you feel alive

Hindsight is vibrant, reality: rarely lit

Memory’s a collage pasted to the glue that barely sticks

Good Lord, they broke all my shields

Locked bathroom doors, graffiti, and high heels

Until you felt that altitude you don’t know how high feels

Party mountain, some don’t ever come down from around here

To be young again, I guess it’s relative

The camel lights, the whiskey rye, sink into the skin

I fantasize about a second win

Grow a moustache, pick up another bad habit and let the games begin

Are you catching my drift? I’m in a weird limbo with life, bras included. I’m in the split where anything can happen. I’m going to enjoy not having to be dressed at 8 pm. and if I’m lucky I’ll land something that won’t require be to be either, haha.

It’s the Twenty Something Confusion before the Suit and Tie

What would you call it?

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My thighs touch, my hips are too wide, why can’t my boobs be bigger? Why can’t by arms be that defined? Why Why Why. I really hope those sentences sounded as annoying to you as they did to me, but I’m just as guilty of thinking all of those things.

I’m sick of it. Why the body shame? Why do we do it? I spent six days a week in the gym for the past year and a half. Granted the results I saw were/are awesome and I surprised myself with how much I could squat, BUT I had the same mind set. My butt hasn’t looked this good in, well, EVER and here I am still fretting about my thighs touching.

I don’t know if any of you are aware, but when you start to exercise, frequently, you start to gain muscle. That muscle weighs more than fat. Which means your number on the scale is going to be higher. So, my advice to you, is …. THROW OUT THE SCALE. The thing is evil, spawn of satan. That stupid cliché is true, you are not defined by a number. THROW IT OUT! Do yourself a favor. Thank me later.

When you are eating something good don’t count the calories, some things worth eating are worth the calories. You only get to eat cheesecake every once in awhile, so don’t spoil it! Eat to nourish your body, if you feel slimy after eating all that cheese, then sssslllloooowwww down on the cheese. ;]

When being active try not to get into a routine. Do different things. Switch it up. Get up early and watch the sunrise during a walk. Run like you’re being chased by zombies. Google fun workout routines. Just be active. Is your lawn in need of being cut? Grab your iPod, MP3 Player, or whatever you kids use these days for music and go to town on the yard. It makes it suck less. I like to pretend I was a rapper in another life. Tupac and Biggie ain’t got nothing on me!

You don’t need to be in the gym everyday for two hours. Grunting and dropping weights to make sure everyone knows “you lift bro.”

Stop comparing your body to everyone else’s, believe it or not somebody wishes they had your hips, thighs, face structure and fingernail beds. Just kidding. Though I don’t know, maybe somebody really does hate their nail beds.

For example, I sometimes used to wish (still do sometimes, shopping for clothes brings up old feelings) I was built like my sister. She’s 5’2, size zero, no chance of thigh touches or trouble finding jeans to wrap around her big hips. She fits into clothes that I wish I could pull off and never has any trouble about the dreaded … boob/ side arm fat.

One day she told me she wished she could pull off whatever god awful thing I put on (or so I thought) and I almost fainted. “I wish I had your curves. I have to wear clothes that are tight just so people know I’m a girl.” My heart almost broke in half. But are you getting the picture?

You are your own body type and you can’t wish for something that just isn’t possible.

I could never be my sisters size, she’s three inches shorter and there’s no way I could cut 50 pounds from any part of my body. Unless I considered removing limbs and THAT would be crazy. Plus, I would look sickly.

Once, I was so stressed (hubby deployed, planning a wedding and preparing for a move) I got down to 125 pounds. People thought I was starving myself. I wasn’t believe me, stress does wonders. Nevertheless I looked ill. I hadn’t been below 130 pounds since junior high. I’m just not meant to carry less than 130 pounds.

Moral of the story: I am built the way I am built. Nothing is going to chance that. Eat well. Do things outside and enjoy your life. Stop wasting time hating your body. It does nobody any good and I’m sure somebody is sick of hearing about it (sorry hubs).

My silver lining: some of my weight gain has gone to my boobs, can’t really complain there!

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Amazon Phone: Fail or Fate

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              If the contract with your cell-phone provider was coming to an end and you were thinking about switching it up a bit, would you consider becoming a member of the Amazon family? Confused? So are a lot of people who heard the word that Amazon is coming out with a smart-phone this Wednesday. The phone will be released in a small setting with company members in Seattle. Probably so they can test the money waters before flopping.

            Some of you may have already forgotten about the “Facebook phone” that was released last year and did a nose-dive, head first, and splattered all over the pavement as a complete failure. Nobody wanted a phone that was completely run off a social media platform. The Facebook phone didn’t last long, obviously, I had already completely forgotten about it.

            Amazon reps believe their version will be more compatible with the average consumer. Explaining that they aren’t trying to change social engagement like the Facebook phone intended. Amazon’s mobile device will probably be focused on actual products and shopping experience since Amazon is an online retailer.

If you ask me it pretty much sounds like the same situation. Amazon is trying to enhance the shopping experience through their personal phone and Facebook wanted to enhance social interactions through its phone, both wanting to better the experience consumers have. So in my personal opinion I don’t see Amazon doing any better in the mobile world than Facebook did.

Not to mention, that when Amazon held a survey to test their product idea, over half of the consumers checked ‘no’ they would not consider buying an Amazon phone. Funny enough, Facebook did the same thing with its test market and got the same results, nobody wanted the phone, but they did it anyways. Another red flag Amazon is ignoring.

 

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            A quick Google search will show you what the phone will look like and its interactive applications. Which are geared towards making any kind of information readily available and as easy as possible. Also, you are in charge for how much you want to pay monthly, you can pick as many or as less services to use. As an incentive to purchase you are tempted with one year of Amazon Prime.

            Bottom line though, if the phone truly is awesome we’ll never know if nobody wants to buy it and that’s their biggest obstacle as of right now. Can Amazon succeed in the mobile world?

Wandering Soul

I have moved more times than I have had birthdays, I don’t have a childhood home, and I didn’t grow up with the same kids all the way through graduation. I’ve had three elementary schools and two middle schools, one high school (thankfully) and I’ve transferred between colleges in different states twice…. I am a wanderer, and I’m okay with that.

Recently, I decided to go get my toes done as a fun “end of semester” treat for myself, and brought the hubby along (he’s grown quite accustomed to pedicures) The women who was doing my feet started to pick where my spot was and asked “is that dirt?” No I responded, glanced at my husband and saw that he was laughing to himself trying to contain his amusement.

After years of people making fun of the spot I have on the bottom of my foot, I now have a good story to tell people when they ask me about my “dirt spot.”

It’s not a huge ugly monstrous thing, it’s more like a beauty mark that just happens to be on the bottom of my foot, which I guess is odd to other people. I’ve always had it, so I don’t think it’s that weird or “funny.”

I explained to the women it’s been there my entire life and I reassured her I wash my feet on the regular. She began to tell me a story…

In Japan it is said that if you have a spot on the bottom of your feet it means you are a traveler, you’ve done a lot of walking. She preceded to ask me if this as true in my life, and when she glanced up she noticed my mouth was gaping open and I said “ Oh my god, yes!”

After 25 years of trying to figure myself out, I got an answer, from a women I didn’t even know. I am, a wanderer, a traveler, someone who doesn’t particularly have a home but has areas of the country I have inhabited. I’m not weird, it’s just how my life is and was, and I’ve continued the pattern into my adult years. This tale made he feel empowered like, “Yea, that’s me! Whoo hoo!”

It’s amazing the things you can learn from just simple conversations with people, it’s all about listening and being social. Where else would I have heard that story from? Think that’s one of life’s secrets, listening and getting to know “your neighbor.” You learn from the world, don’t be afraid to open up an ear and listen.

SO, if you have a rather large “dirt spot” on the bottom of your feet, that’s who you are or maybe, someone you may want to be! Never be afraid of change, it’s nice to be the new person every once in awhile!

It’s all about perspective

This past Friday I witnessed something pretty awesome, and I hope I can muster up the right words to describe such an impactful event, at least for me personally. I was given the best gift that morning and it shook my perspective up, like it had been sleeping for some time and needed a good wake up call… HELLO!

While doing my post cardio stretching I noticed a women, she was different and caught my attention. She had trouble speaking, her knees and ankles were bowed and she was sitting in a wheelchair. Yet, against all odds (it seemed) here she was smiling, telling jokes to her trainer and seemingly having a good time.

She was with a personal trainer and over by the free weights lifting and I couldn’t help but think “YOU GO GLEN COCCO YOU GO!”

Why is this so awesome? Well, hold on I’m getting there…

The trainer led her over to the treadmill (which was located directly behind me) and she began to pull herself up and out of her chair with minimal help from her trainer. She got onto the treadmill and…

With a smile that truly would touch your soul she exclaimed to the trainer, “I did it! *giggle* I told you I could!”

… she began to walk! Though it seemed pretty painful from MY perspective her determination never waivered.

Noticing I was being pretty rude considering I was gawking at her, I snapped back into my gym mode and continued to finish my stretching… finally I know I know.

I really couldn’t believe I had just witnessed such a proud moment for a complete stranger and was on the verge of tears just from witnessing it. Imagine how she felt!

It wasn’t some prestigious medal, the Stanley Cup or a Super Bowl ring. She simply met a goal, or proved herself wrong, or proved herself “right.” I don’t know, I couldn’t go up and ask her, though maybe I should’ve.

I wanted to thank her, for giving me something to think about, for putting a pep in my step, for shaking up my subconscious and putting things in perspective for me, reminding me how good life really is.

So moral of the story for me, maybe you too, plenty of people have it better off than you and you might get wrapped up in that, but plenty of others aren’t as lucky. Yet, some of those “unlucky” ones are having the best time in life.                                                                                                                It’s. All. About. Perspective.

 

15 Ways You Know You’re NOT From Texas

Considering I have only been a resident here in Texas for the last 5-6 months,I figured I could but together a list on how I know I’m not from here….

1. You realize cows, longhorns, and other wild animals, are easily your neighbors, especially when you’re driving on the highway.

2. You don’t understand why their BBQ is supposedly the best. 

3. You have no idea whats so great about a What-A-Burger.

4. You have no clue why “Austin is weird.”

5. Driving an hour to get to anywhere, is …. normal.

6. You don’t understand why it’s called “The Great Nation,” or why some try to convince you they fly the state flag higher than the American flag.

7. You realize “I got here as soon as I can,” is a catch phrase for anyone who wasn’t born in Texas but, has lived in Texas for a majority of their life. 

8. It’s 108 degrees outside, and you are the only one complaining how hot it is. Everyone else is glad summer is here and the “cold” weather has passed. 

9. On sunday morning you see families in their “Sunday best,” which include, cowboy boots, cowboy hats, big belt buckles and if you’re lucky you may even see a family that matches in all that PLUS plaid shirts, always tucked in. 

10. You have no idea what a “Cowboy Cadillac” is

11. The Cowboys are probably the most inconsistent team in the NFL league, but to Texans it’s “America’s Team,” or “God’s Team.”

12. You’ve never heard the word “Tex-Mex,”but it can be found in nearly every restaurant. 

13. You’re the only neighbor who doesn’t know anyone by their first names. 

14. You had no clue Texas Tech and Oklahoma had a huge college football rivalry, and that Texans hate people who come to Texas who are from Oklahoma.  

15. You finally figured out what “Don’t Mess With Texas,” was truly thought up for. 

Related links: In case you wanted to know more about “Real Texans” :]

http://youknowyoureatexanwhen.tumblr.com

https://www.facebook.com/pages/You-Know-Youre-A-Texan-When/218457121540512

PS: I just remembered one thing, 9 times out of 10, it’s an armadillo…. never seen so many in my life!