Jaime Lee Moyer: Midnight Secrets and Lies
Social Media Icons Follow Me on Twitter Circle Me on Google+ Check Me Out on Flicker View My Pinterests Buy Books on Amazon Buy My Books at Barnes & Noble Follow Me on Goodreads Check Me Out on Etsy

May you live in interesting times…

And interesting places.

I am blogging, and I did just get home from work. Never mind that it’s 11 p.m.

I’m having one of those days were living in Texas feels like moving to another planet. If I wasn’t paying attention, or didn’t make a habit of observing everything around me, these little cultural disconnects would zip on past. But me, being me, sees it all and gets cognitive whiplash.

I got used to seeing dead deer in Ohio. White tailed deer are hugely over populated in Ohio, and they get hit by cars all the time. My big challenge there was to make sure that I wasn’t the one who hit a deer.

I see dead deer here too, but not hitting one is the least of my worries.

The last three I saw at the side of the road, in the middle of town? They’d been skinned. That was pretty gruesome looking. As in yuck. All three were on a main road less than a mile from home.

And it made me think. Did someone take advantage of fresh road kill and score some deer hide? What kind of person pulls over, whips out a big knife and skins a deer at the side of the road? (probably someone I don’t want to meet)

Seriously. What kind of person skins Bambi at the side of the road?

I’ve almost gotten used to dead armadillos in the middle of the road. Almost. They tend to look like clockwork animals that have wound down, or popped a cog, or mini dinosaurs that wandered out of a time portal at exactly the wrong moment. I suspect a dead armadillo is twice as weird as a live one. If I ever see a live one, I’ll report back.

Tonight’s roadkill? A coyote. That was a first.

Then there are the people who use their concealed weapons license as ID when writing a check. I’m not talking big, burly cowboy jock types, or thugs. Oh no, the cute little goth girl is just as likely to be packing as the 6’4″ guy who looks like a linebacker, or the guy with the prison tats on his face. I don’t know who to be leery of in this state or who should flat out terrify me.

And so I feel like a stranger in a very strange land. More on this when I’m not falling asleep at the keyboard.

There is a point here. I’m just too tried to get there.

Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post. Post a comment or leave a trackback: Trackback URL.

Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *

*
*

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>