i think i need a sexier hobby.
While other people post wholly exciting, introspective, and brilliant blogs, I'm forever left with the fact that I have absolutely nothing interesting to share with the world.
This is my story of the week:
Somewhere along the long trek from Meridian to Jackson, the 174 mile round trip course that I take every day to school, there are two lakes--at the exit (100, to be exact) to a little town called Lake--that in itself, I find ironic, but whatever--I may be overanalytical, due to the copious amounts of nothing from here to Jackson and back. But alas, that is not what this story is about. This story is about cows. I used to have a severe distaste for cows--was absolutely terrified of them (for some unexplainable reason)--but have since overcome that fear, to hold a mild interest for them, I suppose. They're cute. . .from a distance. So there are these two lakes--one is the people lake; there is a dock, some picnic tables (maybe, I might have just added those into my vision of the lake), and a jumpy-off thing in the middle, for jumpy-offing. And then, there's the cow lake; it has cows, all around it, in it, doing cow stuff. So, I see these lakes every day. And then, one fateful day, there were no cows. They were gone, as if by some beam-up light from a spaceship. So I, being the inquisitive person that I am, started asking questions.
I started with, "what time of year do they kill cows?". My dad responded with the fact that there is in fact no "cow season", and that cows are generally killed all year long, evident in the fact that we can have steaks any time we want. So yes, that's logical. I consented to the fact that these cows, my cows, I like to call them, were gone forever--shuffled off of this mortal coil, stewed or grilled or in a fricassee or a ragout. So I was sad, sort of. But then, yesterday, I saw the cows--at the people lake! I know, they threw me off--those tricky bovines.
I think I need a sexier hobby--or. . .life.
