Texts From My Dad

Throughout this blog’s history, I haven’t always talked about texts in the most positive light. Let’s just say I (in the past) have called them annoying, invasive, and let’s just say (overall) mood ruiners (gossipboi knows what I’m talkin’ ’bout…). They can be real bitches.

This is a post about some texts that didn’t do any of that.

My relationship with my dad is one I don’t even quite understand. I’ve accepted that over the years. And I know he loves me, but sometimes I forget. Our interactions are so few and far between that it’s easy to forget I even have a dad. I’ve mentioned him a handful of times on this here blawg.

That is, until Valentine’s Day and he sends me a floral bouquet of tulip love to my work. Upon receiving the floral love, I texted a “thank you” to my step-mom, half-bro. FYI, I have NEVER texted my dad before, but it felt right.

He texted back, and the conversation that ensued MADE MY DAY (it actually did more than that). We didn’t chat about much, just made stupid jokes. But it was fun! Later that afternoon he called me and we caught up a little bit. I asked if he can get pictures on his phone, and he can. Now my plan is to send him a picture a week! Something random, that is kind of like a slice of my life, because he really has no idea what it’s like. And vice versa.

It’s amazing what technologies can do. Like make you feel loved. Really, really loved. Thanks texts!

Yours texting her dad (ps. wordpress says texting is not a word…however, it also says wordpress is not a word. wtf)



Your texting and wordpressing,



Happy Heart

My trip to a small town named Big Spring is officially over. My grandma is officially 85 and I am officially reflecting.

I got back yesterday afternoon and poured myself out of the car after the 7 hour trek. The drive flew by. It’s kind of exactly what I needed. It gave me some perspective time.

Something beautiful happened this weekend. But I’m not exactly sure what it was.

All of the awful things that have happened to me in the past year are things that are not unique to me. Breakups, bad days, weird people, insane car problems, mouth surgery (the list goes on). And I know that. But sometimes perspective helps with processing all of it. Sometimes my perspective gets lost, and I don’t even know it.

Saturday morning I ran 12 miles (oh, I know). I ran along a highway straight outside of Big Spring, pass multiple anti-Obama signs, under a highway and then into…nowhere. Or, rather, it felt like nowhere. A peaceful nowhere with lots of dirt and cacti and sapphire blue sky.

Saturday and Sunday I caught up with all of the family. We all just picked up where we left off from four years ago. My uncle started an envelope for donations for the film I am working on. I had to hold back the tears of appreciation. My cousin (who is about 7 months younger than me) and I swapped music– she had me listen to Patti Smith and I told her about PJ Harvey. We bonded over bands such as MIA, Sleighbells, and Toro y Moi. My aunt told me the story of how she fell in love with her hubby who she recently married. And my half-bro gave me rando hit n’ run backrubs. We played games…game after game. Things, Bananagrams, and Xbox Kinect (which is still blowing my mind and burning my thighs). On Monday my step-mom took me out thrift shopping and bought me a ton-o-plates. Yes, plates. I need plates–like to eat from. I sold all of those back from Breakup Bonanza 2010. I also found other fun finds, including an old library catalog for $25…**BIG EYES** I know. And if all this wasn’t full of enough love, I filled myself with TONS of food. Meats were everywhere. Sausage, rib, pig butt (which is the shoulder, not butt!), chicken…ugh. I’m FULL of meat…and it hurts.

And my dad, I never said anything dramatic like I mentioned in my last post. It wasn’t necessary. Or maybe I copped out. But I feel like whatever I decided, was right.

What I know…and perspective helps…is that my dad loves me. He really does. I needed him to show it to me through actions, and he did. He washed my car, randomly. He made me breakfast after I ran that delicious 12 miles mentioned above. He even went for a drive to tried to find me and make sure I was doing ok. He fixed my silver platter my step-mom gave me and sanded down my thrift store cutting board, making it look brand new! I know that sounds petty. Looking for love in actions. But I do, especially when it comes to men.

When he went off to work Tuesday morning, right before I left for Oklahoma, he hugged me and said, “Thank you so much for coming down. It really made my heart happy.” I replied, “It made my heart happy too.”

And it did. One big happy heart over here. A heart that knows I’m loved. I already knew this, but now I truly see that no one was doing things because they felt obligated to.  We all make mistakes. We regret things. They really do love me. My dad really does love me. What was I thinking? I think I figured out what that beautiful thing that happened this weekend was–I got some perspective.

And I took these for you, of course…so enjoy the beauty and beastliness that are the twins separated at birth, Oklahoma and Texas (OK is the beauty, of course) Yee-haw!

**click for biggerness**

Yours perspectively,


Where are all of the good dads?

Dad? Are you out there? Thanks for returning my phone calls.

I met my dad for the first time when I was about nine years old. I didn’t hold any resentment towards him, hate him, or even question him as to where he had been for those nine years. I knew very little about what was going on. From then on I would visit my dad, step mom and half brother about twice a year. When I turned 16 I wasn’t able to visit as much because of my job. And then even less when I went to college.

And now I’m 25. He hasn’t been paying child support for about two years (he had to pay back child support) and ever since he stopped writing the checks, I feel like he’s done with his investment. See, if you are paying for something you’re going to want to see it. Continue reading