Roshambo

I Love My Scottish Ancestry.

A Scotsman and an Englishman lived next door to each other. 

The Scotsman owned a hen and each morning he would look in his garden and pick up one of his hen's eggs for breakfast. 

One day he looked into his garden and saw that the hen had laid an egg in the Englishman's garden. He was about to go next door when he saw the Englishman pick up the egg. 

The Scotsman ran up to the Englishman and told him that the egg belonged to him because he owned the hen. 

The Englishman disagreed because the egg was laid on his property. 

They argued for a while until finally the Scotsman said, "In my family we normally solve disputes by the following actions: I kick you in the testicles and time how long it takes for you to get back up. Then you kick me in the testicles and time how long it takes for me to get up. Whoever gets up quicker wins the egg." 

The Englishman agreed to this and so the Scotsman put on the heaviest pair of boots he could find. He took a few steps back, then ran toward the Englishman and kicked him as hard as he could in the testicles. 

The Englishman fell to the floor clutching his groin, howling in agony for 30 minutes. 

Eventually the Englishman stood up and said, "Now it's my turn to kick you." 

The Scotsman smiled and said, "Ye can keep the damn egg!!"

Thanks

A guy walks into a bar with an octopus. He sits the octopus down on a stool and tells everyone in the bar that this is a very talented octopus. He can play any musical instrument in the world. He hears everyone in the crowd laughing at him, calling him an idiot, etc. So he says that he will wager $50 to anyone who has an instrument that the octopus can't play. 

A guy walks up with a guitar and sets it beside the octopus. The octopus starts playing better than Jimi Hendrix, just rippin' it up. So the man pays his $50. Another guy walks up with a trumpet. The octopus plays the trumpet better than Dizzie Gillespie. So the man pays his $50. Then a Scotsman walks up with bagpipes. He sits them down and the octopus fumbles with it for a minute and sits it down with a confused look. 

"Ha!" the Scot says. "Can't you play it?" 

The octopus looks up at him and says, "Play it? I'm going to screw it as soon as I figure out how to get its pajamas off."

Thanks

Darwin Award Contestants.

Wait, what?

Okay, everyone knows the truth is stranger than fiction. But c’mon!!!! This isn’t just strange..it’s NUTS! 

I dare you, dear readers, to conceive this…

The 6 Strangest Objects People Were Caught Having Sex With.

“Have you ever walked past a piece of furniture or some other inanimate object and thought, "Hey, that's got a hole in it. I wonder if I can stick my dick in there..."

If you have, you're not alone. Either due to bizarre sexual fetishes or just plain boredom, men have gotten caught screwing anything and everything. Some of which don't even seem possible. Take for instance…”

Go ahead. Click the link and read. 

To Show, Or Not To Show...?

Hmmm...I'm thinking of putting Storm in some Dressage classes this fall or winter. Maybe Sweetheart as well. 

Could venture into some low-mid level eventing with Stormy. He's a blast!! 

Thoughts? Comments? 

Haven't been in the show ring in years... I've stuck to the endurance trails with Sheebah - which i'm still on, full force! So this will be revisiting OLD times for me. 

Hmmm...

Peaceful

Horses have always soothed the soul.

Today I rode Storm again. He was peaceful. We walked, trotted, cantered and played. I groomed Scarlet. Pulled her mane, so she now looks like the little hunter pony she will soon be. So cute! Sheebah wanted some loving. So I combed her mane and tail, groomed her and told her how much I love and adore her. 

Horses are so soothing. I’d been feeling restless and *off*. But as soon as I sniffed a horse, all was right with the world. Now I may be able to sleep tonight. 

Love and Nickers. 

The Sting of Rejection.

Cathartic Ramblings 

This is simply what the tag says… Cathartic Ramblings. I’ve been feeling…down lately. And that has brought back all of the rejections in my life. 

Rejection sucks. It’s hard, it scars. And it never completely goes away. Loving people means giving them power over you.. The power to walk away. 

There’s a saying.. If you love something, you have to let it go. If it comes back, it was meant to be. If not, then it never was. I don’t know if I agree with this or not. I think people come in your life, and leave. Everyone serves a purpose. I don’t know if anyone is meant to stay forever. Maybe some people. But in a lifetime, maybe a handful of people are meant to stay. 

It’s sad. It’s hard. It’s heartbreaking learning how to let go. 

What is the worth, the value of human relationships? And not just the love-affairs. Father/daughter. Mother/daughter. Sister/sister. Friend/friend. Lover/lover. Everything. We learn from them all. We lose most of them. Is there a way we can learn, but stay detached? So we don’t have to suffer the indignity and pain of loss? 

There’s a question for you readers, if I have any left. Is there a way to learn and grow in relationships, but be able to stay detached? 

Most of you will say, “of course not! That’s the point of the relationship. Learning and growing in the love AND the loss.” But a few of you have never experienced the pain of rejection such as what I’m speaking of. A few of you have. 

Rejection. Loss. Is it really worth the inevitable pain? 

I’ve been rejected by almost every major *relationship* in my life. I’ve come to the conclusion that most of the time, it’s just not worth the heartache. Best to stick with loving horses and focusing on work. That’s what life ultimately comes down to, isn’t it? The daily grind of work and home. My work/school is set. My home is set. All for the time being. Is this all there is to life? 

Hhhmmm. Just some interesting thoughts. 

Unlikely Insights Into A *Deviant* Equine Mind…

Whips, Chains and Spurs, OH MY!!

For those of you easily offended by off color stories, do not read this. Yes, it’s about deviant findings of an equine mind. 

I always knew something was up with that horse, but I never expected this.

Today was perfect. Perfect weather, perfect horses, perfect rides. I was able to put Storm and Sweetheart through their paces today, and get some much needed grooming/horsekeeping updated. 

I was privy to some.. Rather private equine thoughts this afternoon. It’s shed a new light upon at least two things: The way Storm thinks, and : Maybe sometimes horses really DO like to piss us off. Or something. 

Okay, explanations. 

After putting Storm through his paces (I forgot how much damn fun that horse is), I trimmed his feet. One (Left Fore) needed some good work - it looked like it had last been trimmed with a damn cheese grater or something. Anywho, I’m doing my business, trimming it up, and Storm decides to start fighting me. My theory was that by riding and cantering/galloping him all over Farfel Mountain, he’d be too worn out to fight me much while I tackled his feet. 

Not so..especially when said horse has an unexpected pain fetish. 

He fights. He pulls back. He tries to lay down. He tries to stand up (rear). He tries to back up. He does everything in his power to make this difficult. And as any of you who has ever worked with trimming an unruly horse knows, it HURTS. 

As Mustang Sally and Wild Woman can attest, I’m a Fike… when I get hurt, I want to hurt back (typical and ALWAYS passed down Fike Family Female trait). Having a 1200 lb horse try to lay down on you while at the same time yanking his foot from between your already sore knees (from previous attempts) doesn’t feel good. The rasp inevitably slips and slices half of my fingers almost off and leaves nice bloody tracks across my knuckles. I drop his foot and go to war. 

Now, for anyone that knows me realizes that for me, this means not a whole hell of a lot more than yelling, cursing, stomping around mad and trying to keep my patients. 

However I was dually hurt enough to make him say “Uncle” a few times, and leave a clear impression upon him of just what I thought about his little games. 

Or so I thought. 

I happened to glace under his belly, and he’s hard as a rock. Damn horse is so turned on his Johnson is almost fully out and flat against his belly. As they say, Chuck Norris isn’t hung like a horse….Horses are hung like Chuck Norris. 

I very carefully back up and look back at Storm’s face. His ears are pricked forward with the utmost interest to see what I’m going to do to him next, and he’s got the most innocent expression on his face. 

He nickers at me as if to say, "what?" 

I call him as asshole and decide that today’s trimming session is done. 

Sometimes men are pigs. Even the equines. But I have to admit..they’re funny as hell. 

Walking Away

I give up. 

I yield. 

No longer am I holding the reins on this particular horse. I’ve taken the bridle off and dismounted. And yes, believe it or not, in that order. Taking the bridle off acknowledged my freedom and once-more fiery spirit. Dismounting admitted that while the ride was fun, there are a few more things in life more important than *fun*. 

So, I’m done.

Climbing back on this horse was a major step for me. I was ready to ride again. Taking the bridle off, another huge milestone. Dismounting is yet one more step in the process. I think. 

Regardless, it’s done. No more expectations. No more hope of the perfect pirouette, the flawless canter half-pass, the tempi’s to die for, passage and piaffe. IF.. And that’s a BIG if.. It ever happens, wonderful. But I’m not holding my breath any more. 

Hope somewhat ultimately yields disappointment. If you try for it, it’s never really as good as you’d hoped/expected it would be. 

Answer? Don’t try. 

It’s not coping out. It’s simply realizing when the deck is stacked too hard in your opponents favor… you change the game. 

What am I changing it to? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just sit it out. Rather tired of games, to be honest. 

Sit on the sidelines and watch the other cross-country riders race through the mud and muck, crash over fences, slip in the water, roll over the hurdles and ultimately get crushed.

We’ll see how long I last sitting on the fence instead of the back of that horse. Probably not long. I’ve always got to be astride something… The world gets rather tilted on it’s already precarious axis whenever I’m not working with a partner. 

So I’ll bury myself with my safe schoolmasters and rigidly spunky (lol!) lesson ponies, and hope I can hold out longer than last time. 

I'm walking away. 

Disappointment.

Although better late than never, some realizations are still rather.. Depressing.  

Sometimes life is just disappointing. When you realize all the things you wanted to do and accomplish, and never did…more importantly, never will…it really leaves you in a different world where you don’t know the boundaries or limitations. Instead of being liberating and freeing, it’s rather daunting…you’re an infant again, not knowing a single thing. At this age, it’s frightening. And saddening. 

Life Trots On

One - two, one - two, one - two…

Yes, I’m back from Mardi Gras. Had a blast!! Lots of beads… and NO, I didn’t show the Ta-Ta’s!! I took the easy way out and brought the younger cousins..LOL 

Needless to say, my diet and exercise regimen has fallen totally by the wayside.. So this week it’s my goal to get it back. Up bright and early in the morning to run and lift weights, a cup of coffee (or three), then riding at least 3 of the 5 horses. 

Goals:
1.) Back into a size 5 by summer

2.) Ready to race Sheebah again by next fall - start out in 25, but fully ready for a 50
 * moving forward with dressage/hunters

3.) Storm going smoothly over fences/training level dressage by mid summer

4.) Sweetheart progressing nicely with her dressage by mid summer - say…oh, second level

5.) Scarlet walk/trot/canter and ready for a cross rails course, training level dressage by end of summer - early fall

6.) Lilly walk/trot/canter, ready for cross rails, training level dressage, and ready to start turning barrels by early fall! 

Think that’s enough to keep me busy? 


This morning was fabulous.. I woke up to a gorgeous blanket of white snow. A rarity in Northern Alabama. What’s the first thing I to? Go grab Sheebah and check it out from the best vantage point - on the back of a horse. Naturally. 

Ace (the lab), the snowman and I all say, "ROLL TIDE!"

I'm Going Back (for a few days).

Don't Panic...

So right now I’m *supposed* to be studying for an exam in Bio. Will get there, promise. No biggie. Then I’m going to be packing and doing laundry for my trip back to Mobile. *slight panic attack* haven’t been back since I left, and it’s going to be interesting. Lots of people, lots of old memories - both wonderful and horrid. Excited for seeing family and some friends again. Excited for the Mardi Gras beads I’ll get. *huge smiles* Everyone loves Mardi Gras beads. 
 
An update from Valentines… I’ve always hated Valentine’s day. This one was no exception. Except I had a blast out with the girls! A few friends from work and I went out to a local dive and raised a little hell that night. We drank, we danced, we flirted, we played pool, we had a ball. So it was worth it, most definitely. 

Okay, so now off to study Bio. Wish me luck!

Ride On. 

Paper Dragons

First, an attempt to update farther…

   
 I got my truck back today. First time I’ve driven her in almost a week! Felt good to be back behind her wheel. She drove nicely - nicer in fact that she had in a long time. So maybe I won’t have to relegate her to picking hay bales up out of the pasture or teaching the cousins how to drive in her… I may be able to get a few thousand more miles out of my pretty white truck. But I’m still keeping my eye open and bank account frugal… just incase. 
 Didn’t make it to the car show this past weekend… too much going on. Major sad. Was looking forward to that!
 Biceps are incredibly sore. Shoulder/Bench presses are kicking my ass. But I damn sure will be ready for summer this year!! 

 This past excerpt of life has been another rich in the fruits of revelation. Emotions are hard to deal with, but you don’t have to base your life around them. 
 The horse I’m astride for this part of my life is tentative, watchful, and skittish as hell. She’s elusive and edgy… like trying to keep a firm hold on water. One minute she’s boldly racing toward an intimidating cross country fence, and the next she’s shying off to the side suddenly in doubt of her confidence. 
 What do we do in a situation like that? If we’re schooling, we take the fence down a level. Since we can’t do that in cross country, we start with a smaller fence. Don’t force it. Both eyes forward, and eventually the horse will get across. Once she’s gained her airs and learned the tricks to “paper dragons” (which I will explain later), then she can master the higher/wider/much-more-scarier fences. 
 However if we’re in competition we don’t have the luxury of simply taking it slow. Sometimes we have to push the envelope and hope for the best. We loosen the reins, give a little trust, a little stroke on the neck. A deep breath. Regroup. Circle back around, keeping up your canter and head straight for the fence again. Don’t look at it. Look over it. Look towards your goal - not the obstacle in your path. 
 If the relationship is good and solid, then usually no problem. You sail right over and onto bigger and better things. If there are trust… issues that’s when you encounter the vicious circle of testing and retesting. What do you do in THAT situation? Either get off the horse and start all over, or take it back to a comfortable level where you both are sure in ya’ll’s mutual confidence. (how ya like that “ya’ll’s” thrown in there? Lol)
 

 So I guess right now I’m practicing. I have the luxury of schooling myself through lower fences before I hit the major water obstacles and option fences - talk about a mess there. 

Paper dragons… something a dear friend once explained to me. Usually the fears in our minds are much greater than the whole of the fears in reality. For example: there was a story about a child who lived in constant fear of going out doors. The child’s mother and father had told of horrid things that can happen - the wild animals that could eat you. At night, the child would stand by the window and catch glimpses of ghostly white animals beyond the safety of her door separating the outside from the inside. She had so built up this fear in her head that she, eventually, could hardly stand to look outside. The enormity of the situation shook her - she was trapped. She decided to be brave, bold, and courageous.. She ventured outside. Beyond the door that separated her safety and known from the danger of the unknown. Know what she found? All of the animals and dragons she’d glimpsed were paper. Nothing at all to fear from them. She’d been trapped in her own mind by paper dragons. 

How liberating a feeling to finally understand it’s all about strength of mind? Pushing your comfort boundaries and finding what works for you. 

May we all have the grace and strength to push our own boundaries enough to love.. To really love. To really live. To truly forgive. And to understand without fear or anger. To accept for what one is. 

Busy Update

Too Much To Do, So Little Time.

No, I haven’t forgotten to write. I’ve been too bloody busy! thank goodness. I was booked solid with massages this weekend, and will be again next weekend. Damned Valentines Day. Always hated that holiday. But thank you for the money!! School is keeping me on my toes - not challenging, but I don’t have as much time as I originally thought what with my work schedule now. But I’m not complaining! I’m about to have to get a new truck (eep?) so I need all the fundage I can manage. 

I haven’t been able to ride lately - again, too bloody busy. Hopefully I can get out there soon. And as soon as the weather warms up (like this spiring/summer) I’ll be able to put up some pics of diving. YES!! Can’t wait!

Riding, Diving, Massage, Shooting, New Vehicles, School ( LOL you see what my priority list is..).. Life is getting busy! Thank goodness. It was wholly too dull there for a while. So for now, it’s time for dinner and school work. And more truck-hunting. Will try to post some pics of what vehicles I’ll be seriously looking at. 

Ciao! 
 

Cold.

She sits at the table in a dank, gray room. Smoke from the half-gone cigarette burns her throat, but she ignores it and inhales again. There are five things on the table. A lighter the shape and oddly enough, a fair replica of the texture of a penis. The rest of the pack of Camel No. 9’s. An ashtray shaped like a cowboy hat. A highball glass with roughly four-fingers of good single-malt left in it. And the single malt’s original bottle. 

In one hand burns the cigarette. The other is resting in her lap. Held gently, almost tenderly within her grasp is a Ruger .44 Magnum SS Redhawk Revolver. There’s only one bullet. 

Patiently she waits. She’s at peace now. She’s finally facing her demons and nothing will stop her. 

Her hands are done shaking. Her heart is done fluttering. Her grey-green eyes are clear and expressionless; calm, if anything. 

Her mouth is a full and sensuous bright-red curve around the butt of the burning Camel. The thumb of her right hand strokes almost lovingly over the cool steel. 

She closes her eyes and sighs her pleasure at the liquid-fire burn of good scotch on the tongue. 

“Like liquid gold,” she whispers. 

She doesn’t have to wait long. Her demons always find her. She senses them coming. Surprisingly, her heart stays steady; doesn’t kick up a notch like usual. 

She lets loose a courageous lopsided grin. 

“Must be the scotch,” she muses softly. 

She puts the cigarette to her lips. Inhales. Cocks the hammer back. Exhales. And waits. Waits for just the right moment. 

Her demon arrives. She’s already taken aim. She knows. She always knows, just like they do. 

The resounding crack of the revolver is loud; but it’s over too fast for her to really notice. 

Smoke swirls from the forgotten cigarette. Death permeates the air and a sense of finality overwhelms. 

She takes another drag off the cigarette. A long one. And then another sip of scotch. A bigger sip than the last one. Quietly she leans forward and stubs out the Camel in the cowboy hat ashtray. The next sip of scotch tastes slightly salty; she realizes with a detached surprise she’s crying softly. 

She’s done it. She’s killed her demons. It’s not the time for rejoicing, though. Not yet. Right now, it’s time for mourning. Her demons knew her. Intimately. They were a part of her. Intimately. Killing them was killing an intimate part of herself. 

She lights another cigarette and perches it between her bright-red lips. In one hand, there’s a highball glass with two fingers of good single-malt still left. With the other hand, she gently wipes the steel of the revolver on her faded jeans. Sliding back her chair, she stands. Her scuffed boots echo her steps and close the chapter on those demons as she leaves them behind. 

She walks out the room. Takes another drag, another sip. 

“Yep,” she agrees with herself. “Liquid gold.” 

She doesn’t look back. 

~This is my first attempt at writing a short story… please comment! It felt good to get that out. It was a needed scenario. Amazing how sometimes writing can be so cathartic. 

Comic Relief

From one of my Favorite Authors...

“I haven't got the slightest idea how to change people, but still I keep a long list of prospective candidates just in case I should ever figure it out.”
 
“Seven beers followed by two Scotches and a thimble of marijuana and it's funny how sleep comes all on it's own.”

   
“Shit is the tofu of cursing.”
   
“I love things made out of animals. It's just so funny to think of someone saying, 'I need a letter opener. I guess I'll have to kill a deer.”
    
“My hands tend to be full enough dealing with people who hate me for who I am. Concentrate too hard on the millions of people who hate you for what you are and you're likely to turn into one of those unkempt, sloppy dressers who sag beneath the weight of the two hundred political buttons they wear pinned to their coats and knapsacks.”
    
“… [I] recall thinking that the computer would never advance much further than this. Call me naïve, but I seemed to have underestimated the universal desire to sit in a hard plastic chair and stare at a screen until your eyes cross.”
   
“Maybe I'll learn a trade. I've considered taxidermy. I always thought it was a shame you couldn't do that on people.”

• After a few months in my parents' basement, I took an apartment near the state university, where I discovered both crystal methamphetamine and conceptual art. Either one of these things are dangerous, but in combination they have the potential to destroy entire civilizations.

• They were nothing like the French people I had imagined. If anything, they were too kind, too generous and too knowledgable in the fields of plumbing and electricity.

• Underneath my window, there were huge groups of people running in the streets. They tried to overturn a car. So the woman opened her window and tried to throw water on them. So then they threw rocks up and tried to smash her windows. It was very exciting.

“Why refer to Lady Crack Pipe or Good Sir Dishrag when these things could never live up to all that their sex implied.”

A broken heart is a rite of passage and, looking back, I must have wanted one pretty badly. "Kick me," I demanded, and when somebody finally did, I burst like a cheap piñata.

~All quotes from various websites and credit to David Sedaris. 

Welcome To My Wonderland

Half-Lucid Thoughts

So I haven’t written in a while. School, work, and life are pretty darned good motivators to stay busy! The spa job that I was going to try worked out beautifully - lovely people, lovely atmosphere, lovely $$. Always a beautiful thing when the Universe works so lovely. 

Aaaaannd….I’ve given another cousin the virus… she’s into blogging now, too! Going to be interesting to read; she’s an avid outdoors-woman, and from the tone of her first post will be writing of her life and time on the amazing and grueling Alaskan frontier. While Mustang Sally and I are the equine aficionados, Wild Woman turned out to be just that - the wild woman! She downed her first caribou last fall, I believe it was, and trust me; that’s just the tip of the iceberg (as it were), for her Alaskan adventures! Be sure to read.

Progresso. 

My life has taken on a few tangled twists and turns, of late. I feel not unlike Alice who has just fallen down her rabbit hole into a rather stoned world of illusive white rabbits and mad, grinning cats. 

What’s more, I feel completely at home here in this web of wiles. What does that say about me? I don’t want to figure it out. I’d much rather sit by for the moment and sip my scotch watching that damned Cheshire cat frolic about and wonder just how much catnip he’s had… and if it works on humans. 

Seems a tad easier than trying to find the way out of the madness and endure the heartache in order to healthily progress in life. We can’t all be martyrs. 

Enter, Cheshire cat. 

But I can damn sure make IT a martyr. 

How does one figure out what elements of life are supposed to be there, and what aren’t? Or is it like scotch? You know it’s not really good for you. Well, you can convince yourself that it’s actually quite wonderful for you. It has so many charming side effects. It makes you think you’re invincible. You can do any damn thing you want! Fly off the roof? Sure! The fall won’t hurt THAT bad. 

But inevitably, you find yourself trying to pry your head out of your ass and your feet out of your mouth. 

So much for breaking the fall. 

For now though, it’s off to homework land. At least it’s a tad more lucid than Wonderland. 

Ciao.

Things Are Looking Up!!

Finally, a break in stride!!

 Seems it’s about time to saddle up the work-force pony, and taker her for a ride. I’ve just gotten a call back from a Spa I applied at a few weeks ago… I’m going in tomorrow to do Massage and see if the place and I mesh well enough. So Excited! With the economy like it is, I’m surprised it was a spa that called me back…but I’ll take it! I love my work as an LMT, and hopefully this place will work out. 

Any who, I’ve given my cousin the bug… the blogging bug, that is. Check out her page here. Like me, she’s a lover of equines.. But in a vastly different arena. While mine is varied in the fields of endurance, mounted police, dressage, hunters/jumpers, speed events, etc, her venue is more of the showing arena; specifically Arabian shows and Saddle Seat stuff. 

Aside:

Major funny of today: Was talking to my cousin (ironically enough the same one that started blogging), and we were discussing the finer points of alcohol. She’s actually not a drinker. I wouldn’t consider myself a ‘drinker’, but I do know how to enjoy a fine glass of something when the occasion calls for it. I mentioning that I couldn’t stand the thought of Vodka…that being my ‘sick’ drink. (any of you who have ever had a 3 day hangover, you know what I mean). Even the mention of the stuff sets my stomach rolling. 

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m like that with hushpuppies.”

…

Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot. 

Seriously. 

“Is that some hokey Texan drink I haven’t heard of?” (I was hoping…)

“No. I mean like real hushpuppies. The deep-fried, brown, eat-with-fish-and-chips kind. Can’t stand the dang things. Just the thought of them turns my stomach!”

I didn’t know if I should laugh hysterically or worry. But it gets better.

Our conversation moved on to slugging energy drinks. Her fav is the much acclaimed 5-hour Energy. 

“It’s horrid - you have to take it like a shot!! Close your eyes, pinch your nose with your fingers, and sling ‘er back,” she cried.

By this time I was rolling on the floor in hysterics.

“Some day before we get old and senile, I vow I will take you to a bar and MAKE you take a shot,” I managed to snorted out, “and if you actually take it like a kid drinking yucky cough syrup I’m going to fall out of my chair laughing - but there will be picture evidence, I promise you that.” 

Yes, I was laughing hysterically by this time. 


So what started out as a day of cleaning house and job-hunting turned into an extremely good day. There are only two things that can make it better right now… One of them being a nice long ride on my mare, and the other… well. I’ll save that for later. 

Ciao. 

A Good Day

Yes, A Good Day Was Had By All

Today was revolutionary. J Lots of smiles and happiness about. I swear, one or more of my ancestress must have been bitten by a vampire… or a werewolf… or have consumed some poison tea. Something. We’re coming up to a full moon in another week and a half or so, and I have gone haywire! Everything. Ugh. It’s so bloody exhausting. But at least I know why now! Makes life so much easier. 

Moving on. 

I drove the little zippy car today. Smiles, shivers and overall contentment. I love that car. Hopefully I can talk my cousin into letting me drag race his Camaro… now, that’s some serious car right there. I’ll have to get pictures soon. 

I wanted to ride today. The weather decided to give us a chance to thaw out, and it was relatively warm outside. Didn’t get around to it. Tomorrow though, I vow. I’m going through some serious withdrawals. I haven’t been on my horse in so long, she’s probably going to laugh at me when I try to pull my fat ass up in the saddle. Forget my usual grace that came from 17 years of hard riding. 

I need to trim the other four.. Sheebah looks good. Her feet have drastically improved from one year ago. Now I just need to get the other four up to her level. Time, lots of time. They’re really not terribly bad off, but since I haven’t been able to work with them consistently since I’ve moved up here, they seem to think that you’re supposed to fight the pedicurist every second. “If you’re going to be a leg,” they say, “well then dammit, quit bitching and be a leg! Don’t expect me to hold myself up when I ONLY have three left…”. Right. That’s what I’m in the process of remedying. And can they be petite, light little Arabs? No. they’re fat lazy quarter horses. Lol. Wouldn’t trade them for the world though. 

A little food for thought for you horse lovers.

You Know You’re A Horse Lover When…

*Your horse gets shoes more often than you do.

especially during Mardi Gras season. I’d put down 200 without blinking for barium and steel, yet I can’t remember the last time I actually had a new pair of shoes. 

*You're trying to get around a slow walking person and instead of saying "Excuse me," you cluck at them instead.

I’ve actually been yelled at for this. 

*You say "Whoa" to the dog.

guilty. And to the young cousins. 

*You pull change from your pocket at work, and hay falls all over.

of course? I still find horse treats in my winter jacket pockets. 

*Books and movies are ruined for you if horsemanship references are incorrect.

I cannot stand it if they’re wrong!!!! Or if the horses are an obvious switch, like in Hidalgo. 

*You actually get to a point where flies don't bother you so much.

they still drive the mother crazy, but don’t bother me much at all. 

*Your mother, who has no grandchildren, gets cards addressed to Grandma, signed by the horses.

but of course. 

*You kick the car floor and cluck to make it go.

and pull on the steering wheel while squeezing your thighs and sinking slightly deeper into the seat to make it stop…

*Your friends have to move your saddle or horse blanket out of the seat every time they get in your car.

Guilty. 

*Your non-horsey friend gives you a funny look after glancing into the back seat of your car, and you realize he's noticed your whips and spurs.

I still catch hell about this. Although the ex didn’t mind it too bad, lol.

*Your sole purpose in buying five pounds of coffee is to use the can as a grain scoop.

so when you get home, you dump the coffee out into a plastic baggie and take the can to the barn. 

*You stop channel surfing at Budweiser Clydesdale commercials.

those Clydesdales are so cute…

*You have more pictures of your horses in your office than you have of your family.

actually, I don’t think I had any pics of anything but my horse…

*Your horse seems the right choice when you need to talk something out with someone.

they always listen and never judge. What more do you want?

*You can find your boots in the dark by the aroma.

LOL guilty…

*You get a little whiff of the smell of leather and breathe deeper to get the full impact. 

every time. Every. Time. 

*You drive by ANY field ANYWHERE and look very hard for horses.

doesn’t matter if it’s obviously a hay field or a grain field. If it’s a golf course, it just pisses you off at such a waste of good pasture land. 

*You know more about equine nutrition than human nutrition.

sad, but true. And I’m a Massage Therapist!

*You don't even want to think about how your car would be paid for, your mortgage would be much smaller, and you might have some savings if you didn't have horses.

it’s pointed out to me regularly. But I don’t care. I’ll take the horses and the debt any day. My horses are my therapy. 

*You're totally grossed out by human hair in the sink or tub, but don't mind horse hair in your washer, on your clothes, in your food.

adds a little … ‘spice’… lol. 

For this post, that’s all. I’m probably going to post something else a little later. I’ve got to help make lamp chops and zucchini/squash for dinner. (lol, here’s another picture this:… sexy blond in a red Camaro… everyone’s watching.. She saunters her way to the grocery and slips a basket over her arm. In the produce section, she analyzes the zucchini carefully… right length… right width… right texture… then moves onto the squash. “mmm,” she thinks as she licks her lips. Two small bags of rice later, she moves to the checkout line and makes eye contact with the clerk. Smiles. Pays. Then slings her ass and hips side to side all the way back to that little zippy car. Wonder what she’s doing tonight? )

Yes, I had a few laughs at the store. Honestly though, it’s for Lamb Chops. Bon Appetite! 

Ciao, Babe.

Are All Men Really Created Equal?

Yet another woman pondering the circumstances of life, love, and the pursuit thereof. 


Are all men alike? The few men I’ve been seriously close to have had a knack for keeping me hanging on. And I, stupidly, let it happen. Thus, the curse of a woman. Even the Bible claims it, “and a woman’s desire will be unto her husband.” I think that is the curse of women, not necessarily only the painful childbirth. The man we choose to give our hearts to will forever want something more, something different. You’ll never be good enough. The Bible commands women to “respect your husband” and men to “love thy wife”. Know why? Because the farther along we get into the relationship, the man’s eyes and dick wander… and the woman looses all respect for him. She gave her heart, and he threw it away. They don’t love us, and we don’t respect them. Aaahh, what a wonderful relationship. Yet we keep hanging on, hoping one day we’ll be enough.

Sadly, the men are the intelligent ones. If the circumstances are right, they never promise anything. They tell you not to expect anything. Yet they keep talking. Keep delving little by little back through those walls you’ve painstakingly erected, only to once again leave you hanging. Will the women of our species ever learn? Namely, ME? Lol, sometimes I crack myself up. Oh, the heart is a time bomb; exploding with love, exploding with pain, exploding with indignity, exploding with rage, exploding with joy. 

Perhaps it’s truly time to dismount, hang up the chaps and spurs, and forget men for a while. I had though I’d already done that. But apparently that little horse of hope somehow managed to get me to climb back on board. And he threw me, hard. I had a helmet on; but apparently not enough padding. The bruises will heal and hopefully teach me the lesson I seem determined to repeat. 

Hope is a dangerous thing. Even when you think you have all the cards, he somehow slips an ace on you; blind sights you when you least expect it. You’re left picking your stupid ass off the arena ground, and that little pony bounds away bucking and nickering in mocking laughter. All you can do is stare after him and dust yourself off. 

Next time he comes around, you’ll know. 

Next time he bounds up to you with those soft eyes and silky coat, you hope you’ll be able to throw the lariat at him and drive him away instead of holding out a carrot to lure him in closer… out of hope. 

Next time, next time. 

Because there’s always a next time, isn’t there? 

Yes, YES!! MORE!!

Picture this: 

 A sexy blond with legs all the way from her ass to the ground. Long, curly hair. Full, pouty lips. And a cherry red 1993 Camaro SS. The engine growls; she shivers in anticipation. Behind the wheel, she handles the beast like a pro through the treacherous mountain roads. Finally at her destination, she cuts the engine and everyone waits in anticipation for her to emerge. Who is this girl? Where did she come from? She opens the door. Slings one long leg out. 

Then realization hits... She’s stuck. Growing up driving trucks and big 4X4s, she’s not used to getting in and out of little go-carts. 

“Shit”, she thinks. “How the hell do I do this?!” 

Only a tad bit ungracefully, she manages to crawl out of the tiny driver’s seat and land mostly on her two feet. Now everyone is for sure staring. She takes a swig of her Diet Dr. Pepper to rinse out her dry mouth… and misses her mouth, effectively spilling the sticky drink all down the front of her shirt. 

That’s right, folks. Sometimes you can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl. 

But, regardless of my somewhat lack of grace in getting out of small spaces (I have a tad bit of Closter phobia) I’m now addicted to go-fast cars. 

It’s sort of akin to climbing aboard a 16.2hh Thoroughbred and galloping around a 3’6’’ jumpers course. Nothing in the world to compare to the thrill… except driving a zippy little car with an orgasmic engine. 

Sea Kittehs... The Other White Meat.

You've got to be kidding me.



PETA has announced their campaign to save the sea kittehs...

I realize I may be a day late and a dollar short posting this, but I guess I had to wait for the information to sink in a tad. Don't get me wrong - I'm completely against puppy mills and hunting for the sake of killing. But I'm all about a well cooked steak with a dab of A1, and I’m not about to shrug out of a sublimely soft and warm mink coat when it's 17 degrees outside. 

But fish as the new 'sea kitten'?! Seriously?! 

If PETA gets their way Long John Silver’s and Red Lobster are going to be out of business before we can say “kitteh-nip”. 

“Given the drastic situation for this country's sea kittens—who are often the victims of many major threats to their welfare and ways of life—it's high time that the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS) stop allowing our little sea kitten friends to be tortured and killed. Who'd want to hurt a sea kitten anyway?!”

No, I don’t want to hurt the fish. I wan to eat them. 

“Sea kittens are just as intelligent (not to mention adorable) as dogs and cats…” 

Pretty soon we’re going to have circuses of little fish performing dare-devil stunts; jumping through hoops held high above the water and awash in tartar sauce.  

A friend sent me this the other day and all I have to say is .. Well Done. 

To Finish Is To Win.

Off on yet another tangent... 

You know, life’s major forces and be described as different styles of equestrian activity. 

Take, for instance, school. That ride has been much like an endurance race… go figure. Long stretches of trying terrain interspersed with restful vet-checks. You keep yourself going by loving the ride - and when you’re not loving it so much, you’re patiently racing (lol, juxtaposition much?) toward the finish line. Our motto in the AERC - American Endurance Ride Conference - is, “To Finish Is To Win.” Some might think that leaves a little competitiveness to be desired, but understand the complexities in a 100 mile race… you only have so many hours to finish… you MUST be fit enough to continue… your horse MUST be fit enough to continue… Much like school. I’ve been to many different schools. After I graduated from high school, I went to Animal Dynamics in Ocala, Fl. I’m a certified Equine Sports Massage Therapist. After Ocala, I went to the University of South Alabama. I thought I wanted to major in International Studies. But, no. So I went to massage school. One year later, I was a Licensed Massage Therapist. The learning doesn’t stop there! Now I’m taking classes at Wallace State Community College. From there I hope to transfer to a four-year university to finish my Bachelor’s. 

It’s been a long and challenging race. Who knows where the trail will lead next? I just know that my vet-check is over, and it’s time to saddle up and ride the next loop. Keep that Finish Line in sight!


Then, of course, there’s dating… oooohh! Everyone loves to hear juicy gossip about another‘s love life. That particular beast has given me a rough ride. I’ve temporarily dismounted and hung up my chaps. I need to reinvest in a new helmet and glove. THAT genre of life is akin to bareback bronc riding… Bouncy, Bouncy, Bouncy - “Oh Shit! That ground’s coming up fast!” But, like all good rodeo riders, we keep coming back for more. As soon as the wounds have healed completely (baggage isn’t cute) I’ll be striding bow-legged into the arena once more to hold my hat and pray to God this round will last the full 8 seconds. (no, not a sexual slur… in my arena 8 seconds ain‘t no ride!) 

Work is sort of like dressage. You start out low-level and train your ass off. You work hard, your horse works hard. Competition, clinics, lessons, ass-chewings, research, reading… and suddenly it all comes together for that next big raise and promotion. Eventually you’re the one giving clinics. Hard work, but rewarding. Dancing with horses. Juggling people, politics, and self goals. Being willing to put in the work to get the desired results. Sometimes you get instant gratification, sometimes not. It’s all a learning process.  

Much as the trail of life. You jump obstacles in your way, swim through treacherous heartaches, climb seemingly endless uphill battles, carefully negotiate the downhills, pick up a few ride-buddies along the way, and have intermittent stops to rest and recoup. Sometimes you’re ready to go on, sometimes you need to be pulled and just go back to camp. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be up at the crack of dawn, saddled and ready to go with all of life’s other competitors. It’s important to keep the fact in mind that it’s not the destination that counts… it’s the ride along the way. To Finish Is To Win. 

Ramblings From An Inventive Mind.

And here we…GO

So today I watched the Presidential Inauguration. I wonder what we’re getting ourselves into with this one… Only time will tell. I know I’ll keep praying and hoping that President Obama will make the best decisions regarding our wonderful country. 

In the past, I’ve never been much into politics… rather, I’ve always had an interest but never enough to get off my ass and do something about it. Odd, coming from a military family. Not to mention my ex-fiancée is a former Marine and delves as deep into politics as he can get and still remain relatively sane. I guess being with him has rubbed the political itch off on me, so to speak. I’m not going to be blogging any of that jargon right now - I don’t want to sound like an idiot. I want to have a firm platform to stand on and right now my collective information is like Swiss cheese. 

Sometimes life throws unexpected curve balls at you. Well, I guess life always does that… that’s what makes it life, no? So strength is, in essence, how you handle these curve balls and whether or not you learn from your past mistakes. I firmly believe everything happens for a reason; not necessarily preordained, but a reason nonetheless. What can be so unequivocally frustrating is the reason isn’t always (if ever) clear. Why do some things have to happen? It seems like some choices are presented and then others thrown on top of them just to make things interesting. And all above mentioned choices are completely relevant and potentially life-changing! 

Maybe it’s not quite so complicated… Just a thought… Maybe you’re supposed to repeat a particular lesson until you actually LEARN it and CAN move on.. So the choice is there, and the education is judged by present circumstances and decisions made therein.  

That cleared up a lot. 

Finally, a semblance of peace in an overwrought mind. Maybe my daily fight to die to the old way of thinking and take up a more present-oriented structure is starting to take effect.  

Blogging: Take Two.

Today has been filled with emotion. 

Humor: My nine year old cousin informed his Uncle that they eat the “butt cheeks” of the deer that his Daddy kills. 
 “Really,” said Uncle. “I eat the back strap.”
 “Well, my Mom cooks the butt cheeks,” my cousin proudly declared.  

Solitude: This morning I happened to look out one of my bedroom windows and see a young doe wandering around. She was beautiful. And so very peaceful. She walked; stopped; listened; foraged; walked some more. The threat of danger was imminent, as hunting season is still in full force. Yet her entire being was quiet; watchful. Observing her for those few minutes was one of the highlights of my day. Such beauty and serenity sometimes cannot be found but in nature. 

I had planned on writing more, but I’m too bloody exhausted. Perhaps tomorrow will prove more fruitful the recounting of my daily conquests. 

Rampant emotions and White Zen seem to work in accordance to effectively drain the body and mind of every last reservoir of energy. 

Ciao for now.  

To Blog, Or Not To Blog...

So I finally bit the bullet. To blog, or not to blog. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. My previous view of blogging insisted that it was a waste of time and energy. We’ll see how long I last. Being a full-time college student, I don’t know how much time I’ll have to expound on the daily adventures of my life. Or even if that’s the road I’ll take with this one. 

I’ve had a lot of changes in the past few years so maybe this will be one I stick with. Or maybe not. Perhaps this is simply a ruse of my intellect in order to retrain myself with the basics of writing. College is definitely a motivator. 

Right now I’m going to a small community college until I get a few more credits under my belt and decide from were I want to obtain my Bachelor’s. From there, on to bigger and better. No, I haven’t decided on a major. I’m enjoying the novelty of living each day for the moment instead of constantly trying to plan and look too far ahead in the future. That particular way of thinking has gotten me in trouble more than once in my past… so now time to change it. I’m simply relaxing into the routine of life. 

For now, my priorities consist of loving on my wonderful Shagya/Percheron mare, finishing this semester with as close to a 4.0 as I dare challenge myself, once again getting my physical standard back to what it was when I was competitively racing (Endurance Racing), and making the most of my time here up on Farfel Mountain (as the family fondly calls it). 

I have five horses up here to torture, (yes.. I torture horses with apples, carrots, kisses, and love), and couldn’t be happier. 

My pride and joy is a Shagya/Percheron mare named Sheebah. We jump, play dressage, kick-ass at mounted police work, and can climb any mountain you put in front of us. Yes, she’s my endurance horse. (although you wouldn’t know it now looking at her! Her feet {finally have recovered} and gotten huge - so has her ass!) We’ll be taking care of that as soon as the weather cools off a bit. 

My other four are actually my aunt’s horses.. But I have pretty much free reign over them. Stormy is my red-roan appendix gelding. He jumps, LOVES cows, and would be amazing with mounted-police work. 

Sweetheart is my palomino quarter horse. She’s a doll…as her name implies. Once I get her up and going again, she’ll be my dressage diva. 

Scarlet is a kick-ass little bay mare out of the Zipps Chocolate Chip line. Would go for $8,000 easy on the pony-hunter circuit. So that’s more than likely her destination (pony hunters). 

Scarlet’s baby is the pistol of the bunch. Lilly is a sorrel and white paint that’s as sassy as they come. She can turn on a dime and give you nine cents change… I’d like to get her turning around some barrels. 

If I end decide to keep this up, I’ll post some pictures of the others. Right now they’re fuzzy and fat with the winter woolies. 

I absolutely love my horses. Nothing in the world can compare to the sight of five magnificent creatures cantering up and nickering to you in the pasture. And when that one special one softly whuffles in your hair and nuzzles your back for more attention, your heart melts all over again. 

However, I think this will suffice for my official first blog entry. We’ll see how to progress from here. 

Ciao.