Cleaning in Cowboy Boots

I know, after so long, what's really the point? I'm getting to it, dude.

Written July 31, 2007
I spent an hour or so after work today cleaning my room, with ratty shorts and a t-shirt, my nano tucked into my sports bra, and cowboy boots.
I am a flip-flop girl. In fact, I hate wearing shoes, and take them off anytime I'm given the chance. But the cowboy boots had a purpose today - I am breaking them in for a trip in two weeks to a dude ranch in Wyoming. City Slickers Style.
While I've been planning for months with my friend Kate, who I 've known for about a year and a half now, it seems like it all crept up so fast on me. First, the trip was a very bad idea. It was the idea blurted out after a night of too much red wine, the first night I met Kate. She had been friends with the ex and he introduced us, although originally all I had to talk to her about him, about regrets, and about lost time.
There are too many things that I feel like I can't talk to her about, and sometimes I feel as if I befriended someone that spies for the enemy. I sometimes wonder if that feeling will ever go away.

But, right now, I'm busy breaking in the cowboy boots for a trip that will make me the person I always say I want to be: the adventurous one, the traveler, the dreamer. That, in a nutshell, has been this year for me. Through all the crap, all the heartache, all the mistakes I made over and over again, I did something right. I did something right to deserve the job that gives me chills. And I did something right to feel like I could continue this relationship, no matter how it began.