**All because two people fell in love. Norbert Bergkamp plus family, Christmas 2009**
Maybe I've taken my love for gutting out runs in 105 degree heat too far. I've felt touches of nausea all afternoon, but have been drinking more water than a sorority girl on Sunday morning. I'll do half the work out today after work and will wait until 6 to hit it. Is it wrong that every guy I passed around city park while running, I thought "What the fuck is this idiot doing in this heat?!" Note: there were no girls running. I guess that is good?! And how do I justify my desire to vomit Lean Cuisine? I'm a country/farm girl. I can take this heat. duh. Which is beyond ironic, because I never really did do intense work in the heat while growing up. The excuse of being a farm girl is as legit as saying I'm protected more by God because I'm Catholic.
Ah, snap. I am just kidding to my non-Catholic friends. Although, do not come crying to me when you're burning alive in hell. Ahem. Well, wait. By, that point you're already dead. So forget what I just said.
Speaking of being the chosen people because I am Catholic and participate weekly in those festivities, allow me to bring to light an issue that irritates me more than the latest Hollywood bimbo driving an SUV comparable to a military tank drunk. And Jesus, you're telling me they can't afford a taxi home?! Anyways.
I love passionate people. Hell, I am a passionate person (not crazy, passionate). However, the people in the world, especially hard-core Christians, who look down on people and judge those who do not hold their beliefs really "burn my biscuits". I've experienced the cruel judgment eye of those in my extended family in regards to the decision and mistakes I've encountered in my past. These people who are all high in their ivory tower. The were a bunch of girls in my sorority that were the same way. They thought they were the fn untouchables, because they were all good and shiz. I love my family. I love my daddy's sisters and brothers and all 40+ first cousins. Howe er, there are judgemental people amongst them. And don't read this and act as though YOUR own family doesn't have crazies like that. You do. You know it and you're thinking of them. Right.Now, aren't you?
However, there are limitations to what I personally consider guiding someone to your faith and beliefs and forcing it down their throats with arsenic while clamping their mouth open, ya know? Luckily, when it comes to a family member doing the forcing, we can hope and pray that their heart is in the right place. We may not see it at that moment, when we feel "this tall" under their stank eye raised. But, we have to hold on to the belief that their love for us is what is causing the insane ruler of perfection, that only they are the judge of. Family isn't always a Cosby Show, or Little House on the Prairie if you were a freak (like the Bergkamp girls) growing up. The one thing about family is that we have no choice, but to stand by them and support. Maybe that's why their harsh criticisms hurt more than someone who isn't family. We know there is no getting away from them. And when we're alone by ourselves in our rooms, we really would rather have it that way. That sort of guarantee is comforting, even if we hate or are too proud to admit.
Hell, I'll take my family. I'll take Uncle Tommy calling Daddy at 6 am every morning to chew the cud (even on a Saturday morning and for some reason, Daddy feels as though when people call on a cell phone, that means he has TO TALK REALLY LOUD). Bring on Bergkamp gatherings at Grandpa Bergkamps in a home that raised 8 kids with 3 bedrooms and no showers in the house. Throw in the 40+ first cousins between the ages of 4-30 years old, with significant others+their kids. I lived for Rebeccas wedding with Miss Natalie Ketter with the adorable maturity of a young woman. Forget the fact that she's been prodded with needles the size of knives. But, damn. That girl has the heart of a lion. No, a lioness.
As far as the stank eye, I'll take that, too. Because I know the only judgement that matters doesn't come from someone with a last name. It comes from the person with no last name.
I still feel nausea, though. Ah, the perks of being human.......
As far as the stank eye, I'll take that, too. Because I know the only judgement that matters doesn't come from someone with a last name. It comes from the person with no last name.
I still feel nausea, though. Ah, the perks of being human.......
