Just Keeping It Real

Awesome-2This post is dedicated to the ladies who have spent the whole day smiling with spinach in their teeth, a nipple peeking out of a swimsuit, the back of your dress tucked into panties, or foreign objects hanging out of a nostril.  You’re awesome.

If you ever hear me bragging about being humble (because Jesus wants us to be humble and all) just know that the stories I’m about to tell you are why I am this way.  I’m not naturally humble.  I am forced to be.

There are some days that I forgo the black workout pants and put on real clothes that don’t include an elasticized waist.  I might even change out of flip flops into a wedged sandal.  I’ll be feeling good about myself.  It is then that I stumble on my wedged sandals and fall gloriously.  I fall in the middle of the soda aisle in a dress.  My dress flips up while I moon everyone with my thong.  I hadn’t even been doing squats, my rear wasn’t even prepared.  I scream out a word similar to fudge.  The 12 pack of diet coke I was carrying has broken and sent sodas rolling all over the aisle.  It is impossible to miss me.  The second time I fall in same pair of demonic shoes is at Wal-Mart.  This time no one is there to see me fall gracefully while still holding an unbroken bottle of wine.   I silently hold the bottle up in the air in victory of unbrokenness.  Afterwards, I get up and throw the shoes away.  Those shoes are from Satan himself.

This is how cool I am.

I recently went and stayed with Oilman for a few nights.  He left about 4AM for the well.  I got up around 7 to let the dogs out.  I quickly put on my unsexy grey bathrobe and went outside.  No one was even out yet at 7 AM.  The dogs did their business and I went back to the trailer door.


I survey the situation.  I’m braless.  I have no cell phone.  I do not have any spare change.  I neglected to brush my teeth.  I haven’t had any coffee.  I’m wearing red leopard print pajama bottoms, t-shirt, and a bathrobe.  My hair that is naturally wavy is unbrushed and disheveled from my shower the night before.  Suffice it to say, I’m not at my best.

I start wondering around the RV park looking for a stranger that will allow this crazy looking woman to borrow their phone.  We had just moved our trailer to this park and I haven’t met one person.  I am accompanied by my two dogs, neither of them on a leash.  I’m holding the yorky and our golden is happily galloping beside me.  We are the saddest group of misfits you’ve seen in the park at 7:15 AM.  I stumble across a gentlemen coming from the park common area.  He allows me to call Onstar in hopes that they can open my car and I can retrieve the extra set of trailer keys from the front seat.  He had just gotten done working the night shift.  He works for a striping company and had spent the night painting stripes in a parking lot.  I feel bad for keeping him from sleep and I am very thankful for the kindness of strangers.

Onstar was nice enough NOT to open my car for me since I didn’t have a credit card to reinstate my plan.

Onstar:  What credit card would you like to use today?

Crazy Woman (ME):   I don’t have a credit card.  I am in an RV park in a bathrobe!  Just open my car and I’ll pay for whatever!

Onstar:  I’m sorry ma’am there is nothing I can do.

Call disconnects as Crazy Women hangs up.

I’m embarrassed to say that this is when the tears start flowing.  The helpful stranger is a bit miffed at this.  I cry extremely easy and I hate it.  I leave Oilman a tearful message to call Onstar and a text message.

Oilman calls Onstar.  He doesn’t have to use any of the cards in his wallet, because they don’t even ask for one.

I got in.  The time was 8:30 AM.

The rest of the day was spent going to a locksmith, getting an abundance of keys made and hiding them on the trailer.  I also got the helpful stranger a nice thank you gift.

If you’ve just sneezed and accidentally farted at the same time or face planted in the parking lot, don’t worry.  Let’s be ungraceful, humble, and real together.  Chin up ladies, it’s time to conquer the day.

About LC

Howdy! LC and her Oilman live in the ‘burbs north of Austin, TX. She is a real estate broker, but you won’t find her face on a bus bench and she doesn't drive a Cadillac. Oilman works in Texas as a Completions Consultant. Don’t worry, most people don’t know what that title means either. LC calls him frac guru, for short. She may be the only woman in America that hated both "Twilight" AND "50 Shades of Grey". Oilman and LC like wine, good music, their two dogs, and cervezas in Central America. Follow the adventures of LC and Oilman at: www.LivingOilfieldLife.com or on Instagram at: living_oilfield_life

Speak Your Mind