so.much.pressure

so. much. pressure. so, i get to work this morning and begin my morning ritual.  i technically work 8-5, but i really only work about 2 hours a day on average.  my job rules.  i pour myself some coffee, and begin to eat my healthy breakfast consisting of a bagel smothered in cream cheese and a side order of donut holes. don't hate me just because i'm skinny and i can eat like this.  anyway, i log on to the internet, and begin reading my favorite blogs.  i read several, but only comment on a few.  i think it's a little weird that i read about these people's lives and i don't even know them.  psycho.  but i can't help it.... i'm addicted to them, like mary-kate olsen is addicted to cocaine.  so, i get to the coolest guy in the whole world's blog, and i kid you not... i shat my pants.  there, in the FIRST F&^%*G paragraph of his post.... IS MY NAME.  holy toledo, batman.  *hits panic button*  i only started this thing yesterday.  i feel very underqualified to entertain the massive following of reader's this guy has.  for Christ's sake, it looks like my 8 year old cousin bobby created my blog page for me!  so, for those of you who actually visit and are not entertained..... blame Timmy, not me. so, i live in tulsa okalahoma.  for those of you who have never been here.... well, you're not missing a whole lot.  i was raised about 40 miles south of here.  my, haven't i gone far?  there are some really good things about living here, and after last night's outing... i would have to say peolpe watching is great here.  i will have to take pics and post them for you to believe me.  i got conned into going dancing last night, but on thursday nights here in t-town.... the place to be is the country bar.  i am not kidding.  they play hip-hop in between sets, but it's mostly country music.  it's ladies night, so the ladies have no cover and get free beer 'til 11.  so, all the gals come for the free beer, and all the guys come to pick up a drunk girl.  early on, it's the older crowd... the couple's skate only crowd.  these people are really good country ballroom dancers, and it's fun to watch.  we don't make fun of them nearly as much as we do the younger crowd.  the young crowd starts filtering in around 10, and goodness..... it is a sight to see.  there are several people who look "normal" but then, there are the cowfolk.  fat girls in too tight rockies, multi-colored shirts, and 10 gallon cowboy hats.  i didn't know people really owned clothes like this.  the gals still wear their hair with big bangs and "wings", and all the men have tobacco in their teeth... well, in the teeth that they have.  *shivers*  it is really quite a sight.  so, i'm minding my own business, just checking out the scenery... and here he comes.  he looks like garth brooks reincarnated, and he was heading straight for me.  i don't like to be rude, so i agreed to dance with him.  country dancing isn't quite as invasive or threatening as any other kind of dancing, being that you're not touching any part of the other person's body except the hands.  he was an okay dancer, but after the song was over.... he just kept hanging on... waiting for the next song.  eesh.  so, i shot my girlfriends a "come save me" look.  they were too busy drinking the free beer to notice.  so i'm stuck with this guy at least another 3 minutes.  thankfully, after that song... the DJ must've noticed my discomfort and started playing a hip-hop set.  i thanked him for the dances and bolted straight to where my girlfriends were standing.  i'm drinking a beer, having a good time and notice Garth staring at me from across the bar.  creepy.  i looked back over later, and he was gone.  much to my dismay, i didn't see him over there because HE WAS RIGHT BEHIND ME.  i guess he didn't want to miss the chance to ask me to dance again.  apparently i was the ONLY GIRL who would dance with him.  so, it was after midnight, and i decided it was time for me to make like a baby and head out before Garth tried to steer wrestle me on to the dance floor.  that's all i got for today, but i'll leave you with some words of wisdom from the great willie nelson , "mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys."