you can take the girl out of montana...

...but then she will just be strange in other places.

Sorry I have been slacking off on the writing.  I totally thought I would be updating frequently this summer, but I find I have far less motivation than I thought I did.  Whoops.  I have been being productive in other ways, though!  I have helped fix irrigation and build brick steps in the backyard, I have (successfully!) helped cook spicy Thai shrimp, I have climbed sand dunes and eaten yak tacos, and just yesterday I became an official resident of Colorado.  I am registered to vote, my driver's license says I belong here, and I have a library card.  So it's legit.

Behold, the completely stable face joining your state, Coloradans.

While Tyler is celebrating this cross-over with various victory dances and renditions of "Rocky Mountain High", I like to think that moving does not change me much.  I grew up in Montana and the things I learned there don't leave easily.  They've become ingrained in me, shaping who I am.  And I want to be sure I hang onto all of those things no matter where I go (including China soon!).  So, to hold onto my link to the best state ever (sorry Colorado, but I love my Montana) here are some things that make me Montanan*.

*note that not all Montanans have all these characteristics.  I am quite sure that some of them are just reflections of my own neurosis.  Do not judge my state by my strangeness.

 I firmly believe that unless I am going to a wedding, funeral, or fancy party, there is no reason not to wear jeans.  A nice shirt and jeans can go anywhere.

Hey, if Gaga can get away with wearing this...

Always keep a jacket in the car.  Sure, it may be seventy degrees and sunny now, but things change.  It could be snowing in the next hour.  Seriously.

Yeah, I know what the health magazines say, but I have no problem with red meat pretty much every day.  Steak and potatoes, hamburger in pasta sauce, meatloaf, steak-and-ale pie, meatballs, burgers...I will eat them all.  And I probably won't be sorry.

Don't pretend you don't want it.

I don't really do manicures.  I definitely don't do pedicures.  And my mom has been cutting my hair almost my whole life.  Salons and spas are foreign territories to me and I am fine with it.

Teach your kids to make friends with librarians.  That is how I got out of going to recess all through middle school in fifteen-degree weather.  Reading saved me from frostbite.

They would be playing tag, but they can't see each other.

The best work-outs are when you make a day of it.  Hiking through Glacier Park, swimming and boating in the lake, biking twenty-two miles over Hungry Horse Dam, or just long walks work great for me.  I get so distracted by how much fun I am having, I don't realize how sore I am until the next day.  To be honest, it's one of the only ways I can get a decent workout.

Fall in love with the cold.  I can handle bundling up to keep warm, but if the weather starts out hot, I melt.  Denver is gorgeous and wonderful, but the heat here makes me inert and pathetic for most of the day.  I will always love chilly Montana.

 It gets to 90 degrees and I think I am here.

Watch out for bears.  And mountain lions.  And, for God's sake, do not come into Montana and try to get a picture with the wildlife.  I saw tourists trying to put their five-year-old on a bighorn sheep so they could take a picture for their Christmas card.  Unless you want junior in a hospital for a good while, don't do that.

Big cities are nice.  Montana does not have them.  We get lots of space instead.  I will take my space and lack of people over the terrifying traffic and pollution of cities.  I don't think I will ever feel comfortable with these crazy ant-hill crowds, but I had better get used to it before China.

Boots are much less about looking fancy than they are about trekking through several feet of snow without slipping.  Always keep dressy boots separate from boots to be used in snow.  And never wear Uggs with a mini-skirt.  Ever.

 Please.

Just because I know how to ride a horse does not mean I owned one or rode them around town.  I just could have.  Because I lived across the street from a ranch.  And that was totally normal.

I honestly can't tell if my affinity for flannel comes more from my hipster tendencies or my hick-ness.

Also, braids.  I really like braids.

 *DROOL*

I will never understand how anyone could pay more than...say...fifty dollars for a purse.  Ever.  Designer labels and such don't make any sense to me and I just don't get it.  Clearly, I do not belong in big fancy cities.  Or near the East Coast.

Sweats.  Own them, love them, wear them through the house until they loose all semblance of elastic stretchiness, and then buy some more.

If I am several states away from the ocean and I say "I am going to the beach", I mean the lake.  That's a beach.  For me.

 There's my beach.

...what is a prep school?  Seriously, I don't understand.  Boarding schools are things out of fantasy books and I am almost certain the entire Gossip Girl universe is completely made up.

Rocky Mountain Oysters are bull testicles.  You season them, slice them thin, and grill them.  And they are delicious.

I danced at my wedding reception barefoot.  And I loved it.  Barefoot is wonderful.

If you have not been to Montana, befriended a Montanan, loved a Montanan, or experienced the state in any way other than through a TV screen or a book, get thee hence.  Seriously.  And I hope all the other states that you may belong to treat you as well.