Kissing Some Frogs

It is entirely possible that I’m a little amped up this morning. I took a big handful of decongestants (thank you Texas spring for pollen), plus a 5 Hour Energy, combined with Eminem on blast via Alexa. I have enough fuel/music rage to probably run a 10k. That is if I was physically capable of running a 10K. I’m not, but whatever.  I promise, I’m going to get to my point about frogs and kissing. 

Let’s put aside the fact that I’m a big ole bucket of bouncing energy for a moment, shall we?

Today is Texas Independence Day.

Texas Independence Day is the celebration of the adoption of the Texas Declaration of Independence on March 2, 1836. With this document signed by 59 people, settlers in Mexican Texas officially declared independence from Mexico and created the Republic of Texas. And they didn’t need a wall do it 🙂

ANYHOO…I was thinking this morning about Texas Independence Day this morning as I was talking Georgie boy for a good ole fashion stroll and I traveled back in time to March of 2006. I was living in DC at the time, spreading my wings a bit, and was feeling my oats. (Side note, what the hell does that mean?) ANYWAYS… I went to a Texas Independence party on the Hill and met a ton of people that would forever be woven into my the fabric that is my life, for better or for worse. That particular night, fueled with a fair amount of Shiner Bock and shots of some kind, I kissed a boy. And I liked it.

Turns out that this man was the vinegar to my baking soda volcano. We blew up like Mount Freaking Vesuvius. But I took a risk. Failed bigly, but I took a shot and kissed a frog that never quite turned into a prince.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped kissing frogs in the hopes that they would turn into my Prince. Important to note, that I’m not looking for the little purple wearing Prince (RIP) , but you know the one that would haul my fat ass onto a horse and ride me into the sunset of happily ever after.

For a very very long time, I had an on-again, off again, soul-sucking relationship with someone that just wasn’t the one, no matter how much I wanted him to be. In between the endless cycle of “will they or won’t they?” I still managed to get out and live life, meet people, and had some fun adventures.

That stopped a few years ago. I think I finally just got beat down by the endless let down of dates, dating and trying to find a little happiness. I stopped kissing the frogs.

Hell, I stopped searching for the frogs. After a rash of really less than awesome online dating matches, I just stopped.

My life is pretty awesome. Let me be clear on that point. I have an overwhelmingly awesome circle of people in my life. I have two crazy four legged creatures that keep me on my toes. OK, one creature more than the other, but still, they bring joy. I have a cute, borderline dysfunctional little house. I have all of the things that a person technically needs- water, shelter, air, and a stupid volume of Lularoe leggings.

All that being said, I still need to find that frog. My life long best friend has always told me “you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a prince”, so I guess I better get back out there and search for the next one!

PUCKER UP! Onwards to awesome. And 40.

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