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.
Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
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.
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.Sunday, March 7, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
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.
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.
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