for a rainy day



My sister is my best friend. We were born 18 months apart and are ridiculously close. In fact, my toast at her wedding was about how there is that one special person for each of us, and how for Lauren that person will always be me so her new husband could suck it. And then I dedicated and played this song:

True story, she has the wedding video to prove it.
So she and I, the Irish twins, have never lived more than an hour away from each other. And life was good-

And then her husband Reid joined the Air Force…
Now, I don’t know if you know anything about military life, but they have this little habit of moving people as far away from home as possible (because after all, nobody wants to give a mamas boy a gun, am I right?). Before moving further I should clarify that I love the military and I am in fact thankful for all the freedom.


But currently my brother is being exiled in Kodiak, Alaska with the Coast Guard:



Kodiak, Alaska: named after the animal most likely to kill you there. 

Continuing: My closest friend in high school was Sarah. She and I did everything together. For 4 years we were insuperable. She and I had so much fun and miraculously both survived. Some of my stupidest and most memorable moments were made with Sarah standing beside me saying “this is going to be awesome”. So fast forward, Sarah married her high school sweetheart who just happened to join the Marines. That career choice took them out of beautiful North Carolina and moved them all the way to California. And please understand, I don’t mean the beautiful California, I mean this little pocket of desert that should be Arizona or Nevada but was in the wrong spot. A magical wasteland called 29 Palms. This little gem was deemed uninhabitable so the Marines took that challenge and scooped it up. I visited once…This is what I expected going to California:

This is what I got:

And now the final straw: my sister is moving. Her husband, Reid, was a banker; that was the deal when they got married. Then he joined the Air Force Reserves, which was okay. But then he took it a step further and ruined everything by going career. He said something about serving his country and security for his family…honestly I stopped listening after the “we’ll be moving” comment.
So after almost a year of denial the time has come. Next week my sister will be moving…to OKLAHOMA.


So, I have a lot of sadness and anger about such a move because I’m selfish and I want my sister within driving distance. But I can’t be mad at her because she’s my best friend (plus she can hold a grudge so it’s just best not to poke the bear). Can’t be mad at the military, they’re awesome and they allow me to live my blissfully ignorant life. So where do I focus all this sad, misguided anger? Well I will tell you friends! I took all those feelings and focused them on the whole state of Oklahoma. So gear up, because I’m super upset but I don’t know a thing about Oklahoma so I’m going to have some fun with stereotypes. Mocking Oklahoma has sort of become my coping mechanism.


I googled ‘Oklahoma’ and honest-to-God all that came up were pictures of corn and tornadoes. Now, I don’t know if tornadoes are attracted to corn, or if maybe soil constantly torn apart by tornadoes is more hospitable to corn-planting, but I do know that apparently those are the two things that Oklahoma is most proud of. I can only assume that since there were no pictures of actual people that they are not yet familiar with cameras and are afraid that they steal your soul.

So, when I hear Oklahoma I always, automatically think of this:

Which is appropriate, because when I heard that they were moving to OK I had the same reaction of knocking things off the mantle. That’s healthy, yes?
So when I move past my Steve Martin autopilot I picture life in Oklahoma as sort of a montage of this:







All if that, but covered in a thin layer of dust

Now, I don’t know anyone from Oklahoma personally (I assume they’re all being held hostage and are unable to leave, or are busy trying to save the family farm so they can’t move. Or hey, maybe they’re just afraid of that mythical thing called the ocean so they never journey out of their landlocked homes). Nor have I ever been to Oklahoma, because I’m not equipped with a covered wagon so I’m not sure they’d let me across the state line.


I’m sure it’s probably a lovely place, but for the foreseeable future that my sister and nephew are serving time there I won’t be able to like it. Soooo, sorry Oklahoma-you jerk.

This entry was published on September 5, 2013 at 1:35 pm. It’s filed under Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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