Dani's Dirt

 I’ve been a little vocal about my thoughts on public displays of affection, and love sonnets in the form of blog posts… Okay who’s kidding I’ve been REALLY vocal about it. As I’ve mentioned throughout several posts, the good Lord has a way of humbling me when I need it most.

In this lesson of the ride we call life, he sent me Daniel, and from the moment I was left sitting next to him in the bleachers of Boone Pickens Stadium during the OSU vs. Texas A&M game, I watched all my pent up bitterness, anger, insecurities and strong feminist beliefs fly out the window before I could even wave goodbye.

…and you know what, I’m glad all that is gone.

The first post I ever mentioned him in, I cringed. I just knew my friends and family would be ready to line me up execution style and fire away with “Look who’s posting lovey-dovey crap now.” “Karma will get you every time.” “I thought you hated mush.” etc. But instead, just one friend dared to call me out on my sudden change of heart. The rest just simply said, “It’s about time.” (Ha. Thanks guys.)

Despite everyone being so accepting, I feel the need to make a PSA/apology. (I’ve been pretty brutal on the subject.)

So here goes:
I’m sorry. I was wrong… about it all, the whole kit-and-kaboodle.

Okay, I said it. Soak it up people, the words “I was wrong” don’t leave my mouth (or fingers, since I’m typing) very often. If you’re looking for me I’ll just be over here in Middle-of-Corn Kansas eating a large helping of crow pie.

We’re all a little weird, and life’s a little weird.
And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it LOVE.
-Dr. Seuss