The Mothership routinely has a 'talk' with me on my apparent obsession with guns. She's worried that a certain guy (that I would date in a heartbeat were he to ever ask me) will read this here blog & freak out & therefore never make a move.
I don't think I'm obsessed with guns & knives, I just like them a lot. I think they're fun & useful and I've almost always carried a pocketknife (or switchblade) with me - to work, to school, around running errands & sometimes even to church (if I'm wearing jeans instead of a dress). I've even saved lives with my knives - horsey lives, but lives nonetheless.
Mom is a very girlie-girl, very feminine and I can't picture her with a gun or knife in her hands. I'm still shocked that she rode ol' Pebbles once on the farm. She loves pink and dolls and ruffles and lace. I hated pink for years after making the foolish mistake of painting my bedroom pink & choosing pink carpet when I was 12.
I grew up as a bit of a tomboy. I had the horses & I was smack in between 2 boys in the birth order. I never dated growing up, partly because I could beat all the guys I knew arm-wrestling. I mean, come on, who really wants to date a guy you're capable of beating up?
I've softened up some since then. My entry-way is painted pink - a darker pink though. I love the shabby-chic look and Victorian houses. I go to tea parties but I also want to go to sniper school and drag-race a 'Hemi 'Cuda.
Mom & I were discussing this while decorating for the tea and I said I would be perfectly comfortable going to a tea room wearing a nice dress and concealed-carrying a .45.
Heh. That got a look.