Suburban Cowgirl

I don't know how it happened. Maybe because I've been listening to alt.country music for almost a decade. Maybe because there's a lot of urban cowgirl around LA. Maybe because I used to tease Marie for wearing them to the Boot Scootin' Saloon, and the universe thought I needed some humbling irony. Whatever the reason, sometime last year I became completely enamored of cowboy boots, particularly Frye cowboy boots. These are none too cheap, so I opened an ebay account, which is apparently where gently used Fryes go to pasture. The first pair I bid on was rudely stolen away from me at the last second; apparently this is how true ebay hawks win their wares. It is a good thing that I am not hugely into sports, because I learned something about myself: I might be the first person on the streets rioting when my team loses in overtime. Just kidding... though I did let out the sort of holler I grew up hearing from my mother during particularly tense Cleveland Indians games. As it turns out, my brother-in-law, Matt, wins all of his Russian watches by setting a special ebay watch to count down to the end of the auction, at which point he swoops in and bests the highest bidder. Hmph. Water under the bridge now, because the second time was a charm: meet my Carson Fryes.