Hair ties

The only other creature awake at five thirty

Waking up five thirty, already late, two missed texts and...its missing. this happens morning after morning.  Frazzled and flustered I search.  Time after time, telling myself I'll keep it in one place. Time after time it grows legs in the middle of the night and wonders off. Promising myself I can run without it, I grab my key card take one more look at my un-brushed unkempt hair, and turn to leave. There I see it poking out of my pocket one my green, or black, or blue rubber bands, one pink  or orange scrunchies, one rubber band. Poking its tiny flexible self out of my pocket, staring at me behind my bush, shampoo, tied around the faucet in the shower, resting on a shelf. Never where I remember leaving it. This happens time and time again with chap stick, keys, rings, and shoes.  I've tried to keep my material possessions to a minimum, because chances are I will lose them. Chances are the people who gave them to me will be offended. I usually find these things, pocket knife in backpack, rubber bands in my pocket, rings in my shoes, shoes under the couch, chap stick in my car. When these things are located its like Christmas in July, simply amazing. 

Fathers

Lately I've been addicted to listening to Butterfly Fly Away by Miley Cirus. My favorite line, you were always there when I looked back. I am a daddies girl right down to my worn out boots. When riding my bike he was there behind me, every time I looked back he was following me. He taught me how to drive. We would sit on his lap and steer from the time we were old enough to crawl. One time I steered us off the road...a little, but he never yelled just grabbed the wheel and steered us back.  He's one of the few people who have stuck up for me no matter what.  When everyone said you can't he was there saying "show 'em how you can." He has always been philosophical in his own way giving me advice. whenever I think of my dad these words come to mind "do the best you can, take your foot of the clutch put your foot on the gas, and just keep truckin'." Ultimately my favorite is, "slash don't stab cause you'll get your knife stuck."
 I've been trucking for twenty years, to make him proud. It breaks my heart when he tells me he is the proudest dad in the world.  I know that I can do so much more then what I've done.  Its hard to imagine somebody can think you are already so perfect that you can do no wrong. Especially in a society where we strive to make ourselves into something we are not, to attain perfection.
Everyone has always said, including my dad, that he didn't want children, and that having them was terrifying, I believe it. As soon as he became a father he was transformed. He is the best dad in the world, he never once put his needs above ours.  He always included us, he said "we had children to keep them with us, not let someone else raise them."  We were included in every major decision.  We went on every bike ride, every camping trip, every restaurant, party, drive, we were always there. Maybe that is why we are so opinionated we always had someone to listen to us and someone to complain to.  I've been called stubborn I don't know how many times, and my favorite line, "you are just as stubborn as your father." I don't think we are all that stubborn, we just know when we are right, know when we want to quit, and like things our way. If you don't like it there's the door.
Little girls depend on their fathers.  I did-there wasn't one spider I had to kill, not one.  In the middle of the night he was always there.  In college in the middle of the night he was always there on the other line, telling me stories and getting me through sleepless night after homesick day. Sometimes I wish my parents would not have been so great, then leaving would be so much easier. He has always carried his kids in his wallet, and never passes up the opportunity to brag about us, and show us off.  I wish every child had a father as good as mine.
Parents shouldn't have favorites but lets face it, who wouldn't pick me as their favorite child.

Stereotype me as a boy

Psychology Assignment, we had to write what waking up as a boy would be like, so here is a mix of my brothers and guys around campus. 

If I woke up as a boy I would wake up the same way I do now, the same way my brothers do.  I would set my alarm for an hour before I have to leave and hit snooze until ten minutes before I have to go to class.  I would skip breakfast because I’ll just have a huge lunch.  Being a boy would change the way I dressed and see the world. I would look for a shirt on the floor using my nose to pick out a clean one, throw on some jeans and deodorant, and head out the door.  I would walk a lot taller because no matter what I know I look good and everyone is checking me out.  I would rate every girl on my way to class, and show up on time.  After class I would head home and eat lunch, probably half a dozen sandwiches.  My stomach would be bigger and due to my testosterone and fast metabolism I could eat a lot more and not gain any weight.  I would go to a few more classes off campus.  This would require me to drive my annoying sports car with the windows down and rad choice of music blasting. The people giving my dirty looks would be mistaken as looks of jealousy.  I would carelessly signal without a blinker, no worries because I’m a guy, they will never catch up to me and blame my lousy driving on a woman. I’ll park taking up as many as four spots, and stroll into the building, passing out cheesy compliments to all the ladies to get a cheap smile.  Depending on the day I might hold open doors and start a meaningful conversation.  After class I might hit the gym with my best friends, so I can have a spotter while I bench press two hundred pounds.  We’d go our separate ways, and I would retire to my apartment.  At home I would cook something with meat and not wash my dishes or the stove.  While eating I would play video games and maybe chat on the internet with various people to pass the time. Before bed I would watch tv, read the newspaper sports section and opinions section, maybe comics, then I would shower and head to the local Wal-Mart with my wing men.  All the guys know to get as many numbers as possible you have to go to Wal-Mart at midnight.  We would get as many numbers as possible making subscripts by their name such as “megan the hot one” and “amber the annoying friend.” After completing our manly duty of number taking we would head off to a taco joint. Eating our burritos and staring down other groups of men that are invading our territory.  After a busy night of meeting girls I will never talk to again I will head home and head to my bed.