A good ol' country girl

Most of my friends who see me on a somewhat regular basis know that I have a wide variety of clothes. I have become a bit more conservative in my dress than from my high school days, but I still have quite a few ensembles that I can put together.
I recently was at a class that offers tips for getting a job and didn’t think too much about what I was wearing: boot cut jeans, a pink striped shirt, and cowboy boots. Well, I didn’t think to much about it at the beginning.
We had a task where we went through a mock interview. We were video taped and afterwards, as a class, we discussed what went well and what needed to be worked on. After my video the class, four middle-aged men and two middle-aged women, offered their suggestions and compliments. After a discussion one of the men raised his hand and said,
“You need to sit up, you’re a good ol’ cowgirl; sit up!”
I smiled; I had noticed that I had been slouching, but I was amused that my outfit—probably just the boots—had prompted an ideal of how I should be. Well, the smile was mostly because I have always wanted to be mistaken as a cowgirl. I’m going to have to wear my cowboy boots more often.

You Stink

Today I went to the same church meeting as the rest of my family. I was sitting in between my mother and brother, Kelvin. About 45 minutes into the service, Kelvin was bored and decided he needed something else to do. He found a pad of paper in my dad’s scripture case and wrote a note which he promptly held out to show me:
You smell.
I looked at his note and instantly realized something I could contribute to his note. He had left a little space after his s so I got a pencil out of my purse—because he wouldn’t let me use the pen he had already taken out of my purse—and added one letter to his note:
You is mell.
Maybe the speakers from Southern Utah inspired it, but I was pleased with myself. He then crossed out the entire thing and wrote:
You stink.
“There. Try to do something with that.”