All Things Profane and Sacred

So, I was gonna blog about how I interviewed for (and fucked up any chance of getting) my dream job yesterday, but then I realized that this blog is getting entirely too negative. I don't want to draw y'all into my downward spiral of shame and inadequacy. Today's story is brought to you by the letter J-if only because he reminded me of it the other day:

So, about when I was 13ish, I was at this family function for my mother's husband's family at some redneck bar in the middle of nowhere. This guy with some sort of large, white, radar dish like things stuck behind his ears siddles over and says to me, "You look real purdy. Just like my cousin. She's dead now."

I said, "This is my mom. I'm going over here now."