I've officially lived in Oklahoma City for 2 years. Honestly, I feel like we should all open a 40 and pour one out for our homie. And by homie, I obviously mean that grown up I imagined I'd be when I was a little girl. The girl who lived on that ranch full to the brim with black cattle and a herd of mini ponies all answering to the name of Bullet.
That girl now lives in an urban casa with a pair of carharts hanging in the coat closet and has filled two other closets with a plethora of shoe options fitting for a travel blogger working in Midtown.
Go on, pour a little out for your homie. If you're a blog creeper... you've made an investment in this journey... pour it out.
If we're keeping it real here, which you know we always do, can one truly become urban if you learned to drive on a dirt road? If you drove a JD 4430 to school during spirit week? If you (okay fine, me. We're talking about me.) spent a summer building fence because you needed to learn a few lessons all teenagers need to learn?
These are all things I was considering when I went on a date with a pretty cute boy on Saturday. Walking beneath the glow of the Oklahoma City skyline... a single thought crept into my hard-headed skull, "am I urban?"
Can I be both? Rural and Urban?
Oh, goodness. I hope so.