In honor of my one and a half year anniversary of living in No Man’s Land, here’s a brief update on my progression of half-assed assimilation:
- I still don’t eat meat. I’ve been a vegetarian for far too long, and having real live cows, horses, and donkeys as neighbors has only reinforced my beliefs a hundred times over.
- I still don’t care for the horribly maintained country roads. It may well be a smoother ride meandering through town on a three-legged donkey than chancing some of the brain-rattling roads out here.
- I still don’t like country music. I prefer to surround myself with things that actually make me happy. Depressing music that could easily coerce me into a dark corner to slit my wrists with a corkscrew on a cold and cloudy day? Ha! Like I don’t already have enough problems.
- I still don’t like the eerie sound of tornado sirens. Or actual tornadoes. They’re a rather terrifying phenomenon that I can live without.
- I still can’t believe the official state animal is not a skunk. I mean, seriously. Even a million tons of the state flower (whatever the heck that even is) wouldn’t be enough to mask the breathtaking aroma of one of those suckers.
Okay, so none of this technically qualifies as progress, per se.
Wait a second!
There is a silver lining!
I recently surprised even myself by correctly identifying a lone donkey among a herd of cows.
This is huge. Just ask my realtor.
When my husband and I first came out house-hunting, I had mistaken a donkey for a horse in a nearby field.
To which my realtor responded, “Well, bless your heart!”
Which reminds me- I still don’t care for that phrase.
Don’t think for a moment I don’t “get” that sarcastic and condescending undertone just because I’m a New Yorker/Washingtonian/Arizonan.
Now if all y’all will excuse me, I reckon I need to find me one of them there donkeys and go down yonder.
(Hey, you have to at least give a girl credit for trying!)