"As a growing girl with an enormous imagination, and no mammary glands to speak of, I spent a great deal of time dreaming of how my love story would begin. I was at least 95% sure that I would have a love story one day, and whiled away the hours of my youth ignoring the more athletic children in honor of a wide array of day dreaming. I went through a phase where I was convinced that my love would come and rescue me from a sprained ankle on the playground, and then one where I thought we would meet over the barbed wire fence that surrounded the five acres of feeding ground we gave to our incredibly decrepit horse. The older I got, the more variations I realized my love story might take, and the more eager I was for it to begin."
"When I left the great state of Montana to venture to Oklahoma for college, I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but in the back of my mind I was convinced that this might be the start of something important. The blistering heat and festering wind aside, I had a whole new culture to learn and absolutely no idea how to go about it. Needless to say, as the indigenous creatures were a bit more… demure… than I was, my college romantic experiences were fairly non-existent while everyone who met me attempted to discover exactly what planet I had beamed in from with my elk antler necklace and unkempt hair."
"The fact that love is hard probably doesn’t come as a surprise to you, because you are likely not a grade A oblivious idiot like I am. For any of you who ARE my kind… allow me to bring you tidings of the truth:
Love is hard. And not just hard in a “oh my this is somewhat challenging” way, but in a way more akin with “I think that teaching my cat to speak in several languages might be easier than this” kind of way. Not all of the time, but definitely some of the time. "