Christmas merry?

So, yeah. I've noticed that things are becoming distinctly un-christmassy as of late. I suppose that has something to do with the fact that it just happens to be January 13. Who would've thunk it?

We spent Christmas at home this year, which was nice. Christmas not-at-home just isn't the same. Then for the rest of my precious, precious vacation, we stayed in Massachusetts.
Now, I had it pretty easy, as I was staying with my horsie aunt, who is my shorter, red-haired great-minds-think-alike buddy. However, Mom did not have it so easy. You see, she suffers from a general affliction called "genetic obligation," in which the sufferer's mind is twisted in such a way that they believe that, no matter how crazy or difficult your parents are, you should always stay at their house.
I love my grandparents, really, I do, but when I found out that my aunt was more than happy to have us stay at her house, I jumped for it. I believe in self-preservation. Apparently, Mom does not. I think it will be another few days before she is finished with her post-Christmas detox. Psychological warfare takes a few days to recover from.
~~~~~~
On another note, how pathetic is it that you've finally grown to enjoy life and appreciate the smaller things, yet you still feel an intense childhood jealously of your filthy-rich-but-in-denial 9 year-old cousins when they show you their horde of Christmas presents?
... and by "you," I mean "I"?
Grrrrr!

Calm down. Calm down. Think happy thoughts, and of Willie, who's better than any object and can love you back... :)

Alone

Alone doesn't mean "not with other people."
I have experienced alone.
Alone is when you are utterly isolated in mind and soul.
Alone is like an oceanless beach, dry and safe,
but without danger, what is "safe"?
When you are alone in body, you can dance and be yourself.
It's only when the others arrive that you hole yourself away
where you can hide in plain sight.
Some have wondered what the weight of the soul is.
Alone can give you that answer.
It is as large-heavy-dense as you need it to be in order to escape.
Alone is not bad.
It is you as you know yourself.
It doesn't mean "no friends".
It can mean no peers.
It can mean retreating until you feel
you can share who you are.
Alone is reached by yourself,
an independent achievement.
Alone is okay.

A letter

Good-bye you evil harpie, you wicked witch.
I won't miss you.
If I do feel a twinge of regret, I absolutely refuse to acknowledge it!
You laughed at my normalcy, my life as I knew it. You dragged me off of the deep-end, and until my eyeball was pressed against the bottom drain, you had me so deceived that I still called you friend.
Because of you, little things are what makes the crazy come out. Today, in fact, I laughed and teared-up hysterically because the boy on the intercom sounded like Spongebob. Everyone was being normal, like usual, and I just couldn't stop laughing.
It's all because of you.
Because of you, when I'm brushing my teeth, I make strange faces and end up choking on toothpaste because of my laughter. Every time I giggle, chuckle, laugh, guffaw, hoo-rah I think of you.
You have poisoned my life.
I get strange looks. Me-the serious one, because of seeming bouts of insanity. Sometimes people laugh at me- and I join in.
Because of you, people claim that I've lightened up, have learned to live life to the fullest.
Because of you, get this, I've become "a better person."
And it's all because of you.
Thank you.

Over again

I am so glad I've started my life over again. To be given a crack at happiness is like having been imprisoned for millenia and finally having your chains fall away.
Away.
Away is where I moved to, after a short good-bye to a life filled with strife. Those days are simply unpleasant memories, never forgotten but vestigial. Seldom ever do people recognize a second chance until it is far too late to act on the offer.
I was lucky.
In starting over again, I have experienced no pain post partum. All membranes of attachment have been dissolved, and I have been able to live free and happy. I am no longer a refugee from life.
I am alive.

Brave Heart

It's official: I'm getting a horse! This is Life Goal Number One for me, and I'm finally accomplishing it. His name is Brave Heart; I plan on calling him "Willie," after William Wallace, the real Brave Heart. He's AMHA reg, and isn't even a yearling, which is fantastic for me as a trainer. He should mature to be around 31 inches tall with perfect conformation. He'll be new "breed standard" blood on PEI, and to top it all off, he is not related to any minis on the island.


Unlike with Cheyenne, who I had minimal contact with until 2008, I'll be able to start this guy young. I expect him to respect boundaries, turn to the left first, walk, trot, and back up before we start anything really intensive. No jumping until he's three, no cart until he's two and a half, and no breeding until he's three. This will give him time to grow and mature until he is physically and mentally capable of accomplishing these things. We'll be turning him out with the rest of the herd until he's one, and then we'll separate him and put him with Monty. I am so very excited; I have many hopes and dreams for this little guy, and I'm confident he can live up to them.

I shall call him Willie and he shall be mine and he shall be my Willie.

Creative Writing Club

Well, I have many excuses for not writing. I have been very, very busy these past few weeks, what with Art Club, Yearbook, SAGL, driving, riding, training, and Creative Writing.
Speaking of Creative Writing, last night I had a poetry reading at the Confed Center. We all did very well. I look forward to being part of the group again next year!

The event ended at 9:00 pm, and I was planning on going straight home to go to bed, but my friend Al1 and Al2 invited me over to Al2's house to watch a movie. Well, I could not resist. Instead of going to bed early, I stayed up until 12:30. We didn't even end up watching the movie; we just sat around and talked for hours! That's how you know you have good friends: you can talk for hours about a variety of topics without getting bored. We don't need booze to have a good time, unlike the curmudgeons of my age group. Having a group of intelligent and zany minds is enough entertainment for me.
At any rate, Al1 told an awesome story. Here goes:
Al1's dad has a friend who has a son with high functioning Down Syndrome, enabling her to leave her son home alone while she goes to work during the day. On one particular day, she left for work as usual, leaving her son at home for the day. All was well until about two hours into her work day, when she received a somewhat panicked phone call from her son. "Mom! Mom! Mom!" "What's the matter, honey?" "There's a troll in the closet! A TROLL IN THE CLOSET!" Of course, she assumed that he was just doofing around as everyone is known to do on occasion. "Okay. I'll check it out when I come home, okay?"
A few hours later, she walked into her house, to find that the front hall closet had been barricaded by her writing desk, and her son was pushing against it to keep the closet door shut. The closet door was rattling and shaking, and her first reaction was to think 'Hmmm... That must be a big raccoon or something.' She convinced her son to pull the desk out of the way, and she carefully opened the door to find.... a midget in the closet! He was a Jehovah's Witness, and he had apparently been doing his rounds when he knocked on the door, and was pulled inside and stuffed into the front hall closet having been mistaken for a troll.

What a silly little person!

Hosses, pt.2

Continuing on...

Every two years or so, Mom would buy me a pair of riding boots. I believe this was a compromise or maybe an apology on her part for not being able to have me take riding lessons or have a horse of my own. I had two pairs of brown Miller riding boots, size 4. I would wear them when I would play with Sal or ClipClop, or on the rare occasion of actually having horse-time, such as the Camp Runels horse camp I went to two years in a row. We bought them at the local tack shop in Pelham. Whilst I wandered around the tack shop one day, Mom struck up a conversation with the girl at the counter. When we finally got into the car to drive home, I was told that I would be going riding. The girl at the counter was named Jainey, and she had a buckskin mustang named Topaz*. She was going to let me see Topaz and ride for real! We arrived at the barn in the dark, cold, and snow. I think Mom was freezing, but I was having a ball. Jainey and I tacked up Topaz, and I had my first ride in the snow on a "wild" mustang. It was terrific, even if it was just walk-trot for a half hour. We went to go see him just one other time, a few years later, at a different barn. As you all probably suspect, I had a fantastic time once again.
In the third grade, a co-worker of Dad's named Jeri invited me over to see her horses. She had three, in a little barn in her backyard. I got to ride her big old bay named Charlie. It was a lot of fun riding around in the small shady paddock. Soon after, I did a science project on horses (surprise surprise). For my presentation, I asked Jeri if I could borrow one of her saddles, and she promptly complied. I had an awesome, original, interactive** presentation; everyone else's projects were the typical vinegar and baking soda volcanoes. For many years, I tried to return the saddle to her, but she would just send it back saying "You can give it back once you've used it." I had Dad bring it to work over and over and over again, but she sent it back every time. Finally, after having kept the saddle for over six years, she told me to keep it. It was my first real piece of tack.

to be continued...



*"Wow a real wild mustang!"
** Kids could sit in the saddle or play with my model horses that I brought. Or, if you were really prepared to be bored, you could have me recite the entire muscle and skeletal system of a horse by heart. In case you were wondering, I am a horse nerd.

Stay Classy

I'm sick of babymamas,
Prostitutes in disguise.
Many sirens screaming at night,
Gunshots bursting through any meagre silence offered.
I'm sick of police roaming the school
And walking the beat, observing the street.
People in poverty buying cellphones and iPods, and
Selling drugs out of their baby's stroller.
I'm sick of idiots strolling around
With their pants on da ground.
I'm sick of names like Sheniqua, Latifa, and Jamal.
I'm sick of domestic disputes between toothless lard bags,
And their common-law breakfast
Of chips with mayo.
I'm sick of white kids from the burbs
Trying to be gangsta, while the real gangs
Shoot and leave each other in the gutter.
I'm sick of corruption and poverty and hopelessness,
And the rappers that the four-year-olds drinking
Coke from the bottle adore and emulate.
I'm sick of the man-child, hanging on to his girl
For dear life,
And seeing the best people
Living out on the street.
I'm sick of smoggy sunsets and starless skies.
I'm sick of the crack, the cranks, and their city.
I'm leaving home.

A Special Person

Shown the most care by her parents, she still feels alone, unloved. She depends heavily on many friends and activities but still is isolated. She cannot walk easily, and is passive and fierce alternately. She doesn't talk to many, but once she does, she can't stop. Having always depended on people to help her do the most basic things, she craves independence, but is afraid to be alone. A very passionate person when it comes to her friends, she is often confused or left behind, simply because she cannot walk alongside them and know what they know.
She is a tiny person with many sugical scars, a strange posture, and a lazy eye. This is what most people see. But to those who know her, who listen and understand, she is a beautiful person with a large heart, an empath. You can count on her to be an unconditional friend from the moment you treat her with respect, even in passing. Love can be a difficult thing to share, but she spreads it in abundance every where she goes.
She is a weirdo, my best friend.

Happy Birthday (Catcher-in-the-Rye-esque)

Friday was my birthday. I stopped having real birthday parties once people decided that not letting me know that they aren't actually coming was in vogue. Instead, I now enjoy spending the day with my family and being the center of attention which, being the middle child, is a big deal.
We haven't had the whole family together without the extended family crashing our get-together since Christmas 2008. It is difficult to adjust to having to share the bathroom with two extra people, and not knowing when someone is going to be a bit strange on whatever day. One thing that really gets me is the fact that I'm ill equipped for dealing with even more highly intelligent people traipsing throughout my home. My emotions go off the charts because it's almost like I know what they are feeling before they even know. It's always been that way, but it's even worse after finally getting used to not seeing my siblings around and then being suddenly bombarded with their prescence in the house. The thing that kills me is that usually their responses are illogical and do not match with what they are emoting at the time, and I overreact as a result.
I love them, I really do, but it seems that we all have to relearn how to deal with each other or else someone is going to go off the deep-end.
Happy Birthday.

Kingdom Animalia

Animals are heterotrophic multicellular eukaryotes. These organisms ingest food and most digest it in a central cavity. All animals reproduce sexually, although some members of some phyla can reproduce asexually.
CHARACTERISTICS:
All animals, excepting poriferans and cnidarians, have three germ layers of cells. These layers are as follows: the ectoderm (outer layer), the mesoderm (middle layer), and the endoderm (inner layer). The ectoderm develops into the skin, nerve tissue, and sense organs of the organism. The mesoderm becomes the muscles, blood, kidneys, and reproductive organs. The endoderm develops into the lungs, liver, pancreas, bladder, and stomach lining.
Except for sponges, all animals digest food extracellularly in a wholly or partially developed digestive system. Animals can be classified according to two digestive plans. The "sac body plan" has only one opening to the gut. Food and wastes enter and exit through one opening; this plan is termed "incomplete." The "tube-within-a-tube body plan" features two openings to the gut. Food enters through one opening and leaves through the second, earning this system the designation of "complete."
Most animals have symmetrical body plans, one that is regular and balanced. Some possess radial symmetry, in which the organism's body is organized equally around a central vertical axis. Others possess bilateral symmetry. This is when the body can be cut into two equal, mirror-image halves through only one vertical plane. There are four body surfaces on a bilaterally symmetrical organism: the anterior (front), the posterior (behind), dorsal (top), and the ventral surface (bottom). The sense organs are concentrated at the front to help orient the organism in its environment. There will always be an exception to the rule, however, and that would be sponges. Sponges do not move as adults and are asymmetrical.
The coelum is a fluid-filled body cavity completely surrounded by mesoderm. It provides space for the development and suspension of organs and organ systems. Animals with a coelum are known as coelumates, and those without: acoelumates. A coelum gives animals a structure to brace their muscles against, allowing them to respond and move more quickly. A coelum allows for more complex organ systems to develop.
Some animals produce asexually as well as sexually. Poriferans and many worm species can develop entirely new organisms from fragments of the parent. All animals produce sperm or eggs, and can carry out sexual reproduction. Less complex animals can have both male and female organs; these hermaphrodites produce sperm and egg cells, enabling them to reproduce without a mate.
IN SUMMARY:
Characteristics such as body symmetry, the presence or absence of a coelum, and the number of germ layers may be used to classify animals. Animals are multicellular heterotrophs. The simplest animals have two cell layers and a single body opening. The evolution of three cell layers and a coelum allowed animals to become more complex and mobile.
Use some of the words from this entry next time you play Scrabble!

Hosses, pt.1

I am a very fortunate person. Even when things go wrong, something is always going right. Since I moved to PEI, everything has been moving according to a plan that I've had since I was very young. New things, even, have been worming their way into this plot line. For instance, I've always wanted to move to PEI (check), have horses to work with and build my equine reputation (check), graduate early (in progress), and work with a large animal vet (next year).

Before we continue any further, you'd best be warned that this is going to be a looonngg story, mostly about horses. Ready? Okay.

When I was really little, I always wanted a horse. Not a pony, a big horse! I had a rocking horse, who I named Sal. She was my mom's rocking horse when she was a little girl, and you could tell that she had been loved very much, as she was missing large patches of her velvet coat. I made up all sorts of adventures with this rocking horse, including cattle roundups and the Kentucky Derby. Sal was my gal. I still have her today, up in my room with a big duct-tape patch on her back, which had been worn down to the straw from so many long hours in the saddle. After a few years, there was a new arrival: a spring horse, who I promptly named ClipClop, after my favorite video ever. I think he was supposed to be Kathryn's or Aaron's horse, but that was no deterrent for a horse-loving little girl. I spent hours on that thing, bouncing around at a gallop.
There was, of course, an enabler for this addiction. Her name was Auntie Mal. My cousin Kerry took riding lessons, so every now and then, I would get a trip to the tack shop where I could buy a brush, or maybe a stuffed horse to play with. Those trips were the best.* One time, they took me for a short riding lesson with Kerry's teacher, Jill. That was a blast, and I was not afraid to let people know it.** After that, I was especially keen to go for pony rides when ever I could, eventually moving up to trail rides on dead-sided horses. I lived for those days! Every summer when we would go to PEI (thanks Harvey!), I would get a pony/trail ride, which would only make my excellent stay better. I was ready to stick my foot in the door of the horse world. Maybe.

to be continued...


*I still get at least one of these trips per year, but now it's for things like grooming supplies, treats, and tack.
**Auntie Mal still loves to tell me how funny it was when I yelled from the saddle "I'M THE BEST RIDER IN THE WORLD!"

*bonus*
-Mom used to dress me up as a cowgirl.
-All of my pictures as a little kid show me wearing cowgirl clothing or playing with horses.
-It was all thanks to Harvey that we ever went to PEI in the first place.

An Intro

I am me.
An almost adolescent mind,
Always more, seldom less.
My life is ruled by equines,
And my future is uncertain.
I have many grand plans.
School is important,
But knowledge,
Even more.
Art is intrinsically
Woven through my mind,
Yet analyses are
My game in life.
Neither graphic,
Nor mundane,
I am interesting and odd.
I dress conservatively,
As style beats fashion every time.
I'm not quite a girly girl,
But I'll still play with ponies
Any day.
When I grow up,
At the age of 90,
Maybe I'll upgrade
To Abby four-point-oh.