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Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Oregon Trail

I have a tendency to get a head of myself. I exaggerate. I like to make bold statements that usually hold little to no likelihood of ever transpiring. Take for example, sophomore year when I told all of my friends after the first day of class that I had met my future husband during Spanish.

I think the conversation went something like this.

While standing in line at Kyoto for happy hour sushi, all discussing our first days.

Friends: (the obligatory)So Caroline, how were your classes?
Me: Well, not bad...except that I MET MY HUSBAND IN SPANISH!!!! He held the door for me, THEN sat next to me in class, AND laughed at all of my sarcastic quips about the ridiculousy of the spanish language.
Friends: ....

Spoiler alert: I'm not married, and as it turns out, I have over active gut instincts.

I HATE to admit it, but I'm secretly still like that. Not proclaiming every man I meet to be my husband, rather, thinking I have enough life experience to predict HUGELY important life events way ahead of their time. I digress...

I'll admit that I would like to live in world where things are that simple. I remember, BELIEVING that when I met the person I would love more than I love pineapple pizza, I'd KNOW it was right. There wouldn't be a question. Everything would fit. No complications. No heart break.

Flash forward 5 years. Naive childlike view of the complex infrastructure of <3luv<3 = dunzo. In order to calm the intense cognitive dissonance that resulted from my silly fantasies and my actual reality, I threw in the proverbial towel. What kind of ninny ACTUALLY believed that even the purest of loves could exist without difficulty? This ninny.

BUT WAIT. After spending the better part of 2 evenings reading a blog re-telling the story of how a woman met her husband, I hate to admit that I am hook, line and sinker back in favor of the idea of simple, perfect love. I know I am grossing everyone out, but you have GOT to read this story. It's about a woman who graduated from USC (total LA city girl) moved home, met a cowboy in a bar...he called her FOUR months later, they go out, FALL IN LOVE AFTER 10 DAYS, and are married and live on a ranch in Oklahoma. What you'll realize after reading this story is what it's missing. It's completely absent of games, manipulation, and any other type of plague so common in relationships today. He says what he feels. He is straightforward. He doesn't make things complicated.

The point is, I'm back. I've retired my once pessimistic, cynical outlook and replaced it with one full of rainbows and butterflies. Anybody who wants to tell me how childish I am can suck it. I'm not from Oregon, and I won't settle..unless it's on a farm with a cowboy.

http://thepioneerwoman.com/blog/category/black_heelstractor_wheels/the_night_i_met_marlboro_man/

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