Okie Stories
January 12, 2012
I haven’t been blogging very much lately, but I have been writing and busy in other ways. Recently, This Land Press published a story I wrote about the time me and 2 of my friends killed, dressed, skinned, and butchered a goat. Check it out HERE! It’s a reworking of the story I related here on Progress on the Prairie a while back. Also, a very talented journalist named Abby interviewed my friends and me about the killing experience and our personal views on eating meat. She made a nice audio piece — like a mini This American Life episode — out of our interview, and you can listen to it here.
Here’s to Okie stories!
Spring
A Girl and Her Bike
September 22, 2011
My boyfriend and I broke up. No hard feelings, just hurt hearts. I, usually being prone to depressive fits of crying and anti-social isolation when I experience a loss, decided I was going to try grieving in a very different way this time around. Just today, I realized that I can’t ride a bike and cry at the same time. I don’t know why I never thought of that before. So, when I got home from work, instead of curling up in my pajamas with hot tea and a sad movie (which is exactly what I did yesterday), I hopped on my bike.
Let me tell you about my beautiful bike. It’s older, French, a bit rough and stiff but nonetheless virile and gorgeous. Just look at him:
I had been neglecting my bike because I had gotten lazy and had not bought a bike lock for it. My last bike lock (cheap, combination lock) was stolen along with my last bike, last Autumn sometime. Anyway, I hopped on my bike today and rode to Tom’s, a local bike shop that I swear only hires cute boys, to get a sturdy lock. The worker (indeed, a cute boy) at the counter explained to me that he could pick a combination lock in, like, under 5 minutes. Don’t know if he was trying to impress me, upsell me, or educate me. Whatever, I bought the tough lock. Nobody’s stealing this from me.
Sometimes ladies like me turn to beer or ice cream or other men to get over a break-up. But for me, for this break-up, it’s me and my bike. And this too shall pass.
Spring
P.S. TULSA NEEDS MORE BIKE LANES!
