Literature Network Forums - Blogs - The (not so) Inner Whinings of an Impatient Rambler by ClassicCharm*

Fracture

*Classic*Charm* — Wed, 23 Oct 2013 02:19:37 GMT

Tonight I saw what happens when a dog jumps out the window of a moving car into oncoming traffic.

It does not matter how much the dog likes to feel the wind in its face. It does not matter how big the dog is, or how little the window is open.

Please don't assume your dog knows better.

Please don't be the next sobbing owner to carry a broken, bloody puppy into my hospital. No one should ever see their beloved animal that way.

Apathy and Disgrace

*Classic*Charm* — Thu, 09 May 2013 19:20:53 GMT

What change a year can bring. Leaving behind the failure, frailty, and disgrace. Change typically frightens me beyond reason, yet this time I feel good about it. A foreign experience. Not one change, but many. I have the out, I have the in, I have the means. Everything I want, I can have. There is, of course, one problem (Only one?! How unusually optimistic).

In one aspect of my life, I find myself feeling apathetic. Apathy was unknown to me until this. It has taken me a while even to recognize it in myself. And now I have no idea what to do. I think perhaps its a coping mechanism; a stereotypic behaviour. Am I trying to protect something? Someone? I'm surprised at myself that I feel the need to cope. Why don't I just fix it? That is what I do, no? Decide what I want and then live for the pursuit of accomplishment? A cattle vet in a sundress? If it's not right, just walk away. Don't walk, run- like you know something they don't.

I think I know how to fix this, and yet I don't. Instead, stereotypy. Performing the behaviour reduces the stress of the environment. Stockholm syndrome? Wildly unfair, though uncomfortably correlative. Perhaps I'm being dramatic. I wouldn't say I'm suffering- simply not flourishing.

Ha, and instead of fixing the problem, I am attempting to use all the good changes to enrich the impoverishment. I think it unlikely to succeed, but I ought to test the hypothesis. I don't quite justify it, but I feel like I ought to. Ugh. Dangling prepositions.

I know for sure that my return to LitNet is part of the coping. An added enrichment. A fulfilled need, or at least an attempt to do so. I suppose we'll see.

Sunday Morning on Bay Street

*Classic*Charm* — Mon, 31 May 2010 21:35:04 GMT

At 8:30 this morning, I step out of the sliding doors of the Marriott Hotel on Bay Street, my resting place after an evening of Bachelorette foolishness in honour of my brother's fianc�. The sun is sparkling, the air is warm and dewy, and the Toronto streets are oddly quiet. Setting off south towards Union Station to catch my bus home, this is my first quiet moment with the city. Ever.

It feels small today, home-y, perhaps like an amusement park feels to a ride operator before opening. Traffic still busies the roads, but now it lacks the frustration and impatience of commuters and day-trippers. There are no horn honks or sirens. Cabs aren't passing each other in one lane. For once, it feels like a place a couple in love could call home.

I'm stopped by a ticking stop sign before I'm able to cross the intersection at Bay and Adelaide. From where I stand on the northern side, I can see a man lying face down on the sidewalk on the corner opposite me. One of Toronto's homeless, he lies in the position of one who was running, tripped, and remained in his fallen position- on his stomach, right leg extended from where his toe caught the uneven pavement, left arm reaching out to break the fall. His head is concealed by a curtain of lank brown hair. I suspect this is where he has spent the night.

As I make my way across the street and pass the sleeping figure draped in a dirty plaid coat, my eyes drift over his outstretched arm. The sun glints off something gold on his hand. A wedding band.

Somewhere, there is a woman who promised to love this man through everything. And here he is, lying face down in the street. Where is she? Is she alive? Does she know he's here? If someone who knew her found her and told her that her husband was here, would she come get him? Would she shake his shoulder, cheeks red from embarrassment, until he wakes from his stupor? Or has she cut ties- left him to his own weaknesses and vulnerability?

I wonder if her ring matches his. I wonder if she wears it at all. I wonder if she pawned it.

I wonder about hers, but I know about his. He wears his on his left hand.

In the quiet of the morning, this is Toronto's only offering of matrimonial possibility. Perhaps the city is not so home-y after all. I despise the thought. Where are the happy urban couples out for a morning stroll? The idea of this sleeping man and his absent wife just does not jive with the "happy young couple" aura surrounding my brother and his fianc�. Did this man and his wife have the same glow when they were first married? Were they innocent once?

I walk on, continuing down the street until I reach Union Station, purchase my bus ticket, and sit down on a bench to wait with my nose buried in a novel.

My eyes catch the movements of two pigeons wandering in and out from behind the pages of my book. Lowering the book to my lap, I watch the pigeons scuttle about the ground around my bench, looking closely at one whose head bobs a little differently as it walks.

This bird has a limp. A closer look revels that her right leg is completely swollen, and she toddles around more slowly and carefully than the other bird. Her companion doesn't leaves her side, though, never moving more than a foot from her on the bus platform. The healthy pigeon moves about quickly, almost in circular patterns, surrounding the injured bird.

It's not often that pigeons care about anything but themselves. They're public-swarming food-seekers. Yet here are two birds showing a sort of commitment to each other. The injured bird is slow and weak. The other stays with it, though it could easily go off in search of its own food and amusement.

Too bad birds don't wear wedding rings. If this pigeon were lying vulnerable on the side of the road, I know where her partner would be.

Is it sad that I wish upon my brother and his new wife the dedication witnessed between two filthy city birds rather than that between a fellow man and his wife? That I'm more unsure of the relationships formed by people than those formed by animals?

My city is exposing to me the painfully naked truth. People change and wedding rings lose their matches. Still, there is one happy couple to be found on this sunday morning. A pair of pigeons, one devoted to protecting it's limping comrade, appear quite content as they make their way across the bus platform. Together, faithfully it seems, they've made the Toronto streets their home. Perhaps a new man and wife can do the same.

End of My Era

*Classic*Charm* — Fri, 23 Apr 2010 02:16:03 GMT

The best part of my life will never be the same again.

After a period of chronic lameness and a new set of x-rays, it's been decided that the arthritis in my horse Tobasco's right foreleg is so far advanced that the lameness is likely permanent.

I'll never be able to ride my horse again.

He's being retired to pasture, which is the best thing for him, and he'll be happy and will have the best chance at some sort of recovery.

Lemmings

*Classic*Charm* — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 03:40:01 GMT

~*100 questions about me*~

~Basic Info~

Name:: CC ;)
Age:: 20
Sex:: Female
Height:: A hair short of 5'7
Hair Color:: Brown, reflects kind of gold in the sun
Eye Color:: Dark green
Body Type:: My friends call me the Tiny One because I have small features but I'm also slightly pear-shaped
Religion:: Raised Catholic, but I'm an atheist
Ethnicity:: Dutch on my mother's side, and pure Canadian on the other (English, Scottish, Dutch, but from a loonng time ago)
Orientation:: Vertical..oh, did you mean my sexual orientation? Way to be specific. That would be straight.
Status:: Eligible to Vote. Oh, haha, my bad, single.

~Favorites~

Color?: Green
Hair Style?: Long but with layers and bangs
Food?: Cheese and fresh bread
Soda?: Ginger Ale. Warm and flat.
Alchoholic Beverage?: Rum & Coke and Champagne, but not together
Store?: Lush
Mall?: Haha the one on my bus route home?
State?: In Canada they're called provinces, friend. Better make that Ontario.
City?: Toronto!!
Animal?: Horses
Movie?: The Wizard of Oz, The Silence of the Lambs, Casablanca, Dial M for Murder, and Beauty and the Beast
TV Show?: The Big Bang Theory
Book?: The Crucible and East of Eden
Music?: Indie rock, Punk rock, anything experimental
Song?: "The Men Who Live Upstairs"- The Most Serene Republic
Band/Artist?: Broken Social Scene would have to be the winner here
Website?: Embarrassingly, The North Americal Journal of Animal Science heh heh

~This or That~

Soda or Juice?: Juice
Music or Internet?: Music
Rock or Rap?: Rock
Dogs or Cats?: Cats
White or Black?: Black
Myspace or Bebo?: Facebook
Cell Phone or I-pod?: I can;t live without my iPod
Curly Hair or Straight Hair?: Curls!!
Lap-Top or Computer?: Laptop
Corded Phone or Cordless?: Corded. There's too much background fuzzy noise withcordless phones
Mountain Dew or Pepsi?: Pepsi
Pen or Pencil?: Pen
MP3 Player or I-pod?: iPod
Phone or Internet?: Internet
Single or Taken?: Single
School or Work?: Right now, school

~Random~

What do you do in your spare time?: Watch a lot of movies, read
What do you wish you had more time for?: Riding my horses
Whats your usual clothing style?: Jeans, ballet flats, whatever I like and is comfy
Whats your usual hair style?: Long and curly
What are you wearing?: Skinny jeans, a cream and brown tanktop, and I was wearing a brown cardigan, sparkly ballet flats, and a pink knit hat
Are you single or taken?: This again? Single
If taken, by who?: My education haha
Who would you die for?: My animals. Seriously
Are you a virgin?: Now what kind of a silly question is that?
What do you think of one night stands?: Not worth it
Whos your best friend?: Her name is Erin
How long have you been friends?: 13 years
How did you and your best friend meet?: At school in grade 2
Do you have any pets?: Yes
If yes, how many?: 3 horses, two cats, and a fish
Do you plan on getting married?: Yes
Do you plan on having kids?: No
If so, how many?: None..or if I somehow get shanghai'ed into it, at least 4
How old did you wish you were?: I'm 20 now. What more could I ask for?
If you were to be anywhere right now, where would you be?: At the barn
Why?: Because it's where I'm happiest
Ever gone Camping?: Yes
Have you ever caught a fish and ate it?: No
Have you ever gone water skiing?: No
Have you ever gone water tubing?: Yes
Have you ever gone skiing on a mountain?: No
Have you ever gone tubing on a mountain?: No
Have you ever gone Snowboarding?: No
Ever gone to church?: Yes
Ever gone to a famous water park?: Yes
Ever gone out of State?: The province you mean? Yes
Ever gone out of the country?: Yes
When was the last time you left town?: The last time I went to visit home from school
Anything you got planned for this weekend?: Sure
If so, what?: Nothing much, applying for summer jobs and then drinks with friends on saturday and doing homework on sunday
Is this survey curing your bordom?: What boredom?
Do you resemble anyone famous?: No
Are you related to anyone famous?: Apparently
If so, who?: Walt Disney, extremely distantly
Do you think your hott?: Haha no
Do other people think your hott?: I tend to be called "cute" more than "hot"
Do you think your skinny?: Not skinny, but I'm thin. Not underweight or anything.
Or do you think your fat?: Definitely not
Or just in between fat and skinny?: Like I said, I'm thin
What year were you born in?: 1989
Ever been on a blind date?: Never! My friends know better than to set me up with a random person.
What do you enjoy doing when your bored?: Reading, Watching movies
What do you do in the summer time?: Work, read, spend a lot of time riding my horses and just being around the barn
Are you naturally tanned?: That's a joke, right
Or are you kinda pale?: Pale as death. I glow in the dark
Do you live in a house?: Yes
Or do you live in a apartment?: No
What do you have on your mind?: I'm on the phone with my mum right now, so baby showers and wedding plans
What time is it?: 11:38 pm

I actually have a night off and this is how I'm spending it. Shameful.

Hello, Stranger

*Classic*Charm* — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 00:28:10 GMT

It's been quite a while since I posted here, not that I'm much of a blogger anyways, but I haven't really been around LitNet much of late, and since I'm procrastinating studying for my animal reproduction midterm tomorrow, I figured I'd say hello!

School has essentially been all-consuming this year, but particularly this semester. My courseload is fairly heavy and there are a lot of assignments for everything. It's nice to really be putting in the work and seeing results though. It's been a long time since I felt like I really knew what I was talking about. I've kind of found a mentor in one of my professors as well. He teaches my Animal Care and Welfare course, which is one of my favourite courses I've ever taken. It started as a philosophy course that has gone into basically a research study course. Dr Duncan is world-renowned in the field of animal welfare as he was trained in the research facility that successfully cloned the first animal, Dolly the sheep, and he was one of the first people to actually develop a theory on animal welfare and create studies to measure animal welfare based on their feelings. I was worried when I first started taking it that it was going to be really Rah Rah Animal Rights! but it hasn't been at all. The focus has really been on establishing what animals feel and how they experience their surroundings and not on anthropomorphosing animals- not treating them like they're human because they're not. Anyway, he had recently published a paper on a type of horse training that is becoming popular with pro dressage riders and is slipping down into the amateur world without people even realizing they're doing it, so I asked him to send it to me so I could read it. He asked me to come by and discuss it with him when I was done so I went and we had this whole discussion about horses and animal behaviour and my grades and vet school and just, everything. It was awesome. I think if I maintain a relationship with him, he would write me a reference for vet school. AND he's the only prof that takes undergrad teaching assistants, so I think I'm going to apply to TA this class next year. Anyways, it's just nice to have a prof that I'm comfortable enough with to seriously discuss my future. It's been a big help.

Since this semester has been heavy on stress, I'm really glad that I brought my cats to school with me. They do good things for my mental health since, let's face it, I'm a stress case. It's gotten so bad that I have visible lumps on my shoulders from the enormous muscle knots I've gotten from my stressed-out posture. I could use a massage hahaha. Oh well, that's what happens when all five of my final exams fall in a period of five straight days.

It also doesn't help to have random inconveniences thrown at me, like my laptop power cord completely ceasing to function the day before an enormous assignment is due when the only store in the city that carries them is out of stock. I'm really not good with stresses like that. Tiny things that throw off my plan are not good, but give me a medical emergency and I'm your best friend. Weird, I know.

I really miss my horses :(. I haven't even been able to get out to visit them since Christmas break, which SUCKS. Tobasco bruised his foot over Christmas and is still getting over it, my poor man. Shadow and Moonstone are both good though. Shadow has a little rider for this show season, which is exciting, despite the fact that I'm jealous. It'll be great experience for him and he's such a laid back pony that he'll be fine with a new rider. I'm hoping to get Moonie back in the ring myself this summer, though the chances are looking extremely slim right now. She'll be such a great show horse once she gets in the ring consistently. I miss riding so much.

Speaking of riding, my parents are discouraging me from riding at all this summer. Ugh, the plans for this summer are a mess. I've decided to do a full semester at school. And work. Two jobs. The school is necessary so that I can take all the courses I want since they're only offered in certain semesters, but I can't afford to not work for the summer. I still have my old job, but now I'm only relief and not a regular employee so I won't have guaranteed hours, hence the second job. My parents don't want me to ride because of the cost and the time, but I'm not sure I'll be able to retain my sanity without riding. I live through the school year because I have riding to look forward to. I don't actually know what I'll do if I can't ride.

Other than that, the summer is looking exciting. My brother and his wife are expecting their first baby in June, and my other brother is getting married in July. So soon I will be both aunt and bridesmaid. I can't wait for this baby. I can't believe that I can't wait haha. I don't like children. I never have. I don't know how to talk to children or behave around them. I just have no interest in them whatsoever. Give me something four-legged instead, please. But as soon as my brother told me the news, I've been giggling like a small child. My mother thinks this will be enough to change me "I'm never having children" stance on life, though I think that might be pushing it. Either way, I cannot wait for little Jacob Michael/ Emma Lynn to be born!! The first gift this child will receive from me: a tiny pair of breeches. This child will like horses. It doesn't have a choice haha.

Other than that, there's not much happening in my life. I depend on the appearances in town of my favourite bands to keep me from going crazy and other than that, I live for school. And that's why I have no time for LitNet. I miss this place.

Moonstone's Debut

*Classic*Charm* — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 02:18:27 GMT

Moonie and I had such a good day on sunday!!

I could not have asked her to be better. Let's start off by saying that this is her very first horse show and she's very, very inexperienced. Before that day, I had never jumped her over a course of any more than 5 jumps. On sunday she did two flat and two over-fences classes with unfamiliar horses in a ring full of fences decorated in scary flowers and she didn't batt an eyelash. She was calm and quiet and responsive.

My coach said she looked like an old pro on the flat. I mean, she had a couple moments where she would rush through my hands or not travel quite straight, but those are green horse things that I didn't correct. We got a seventh in one of the classes.

In the first trip over fences I was riding like complete crap. I wasn't supporting her with my hands and encouraging her with my legs the way I should have been, but she was very honest and jumped everything. She was also being really brave and jumping big over the teeny tiny baby fences that were about as high as she's jumped before. The second trip was better because I removed my head from my behind and started riding her correctly. Moonie responded perfectly. She never rushed towards the fences and jumped them all nice and straight. We got an eighth in the class :D

Basically, she was wwwaaaayyy better than my riding warranted and I'm SO proud of her! :D The day made my whole summer :D:D

Here are some photos:

On the flat

Being brave in our warm-up course

I don't know why on earth I'm looking down, but Moonstone looks ADORABLE

She has her own album on my profile page now :D

Bouncing off the Walls!!!

*Classic*Charm* — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 05:22:33 GMT

I'm pretty much jumping up and down right now. I was, quite literally, doing just that a little while ago. I haven't posted anything to this blog in a while because I didn't have anything to write about, really. Nothing other than minor complaints about my job and the drama of my friends' lives, which no one wants to hear about, and about which I have no desire to write.

Excited rambling!

Anyways, the point of this is that I got the bets news tonight that I have had in quite some time. After a very intense debate with myself, I have decided to ignore the fact that I have not saved nearly as much money this summer as is generally considered acceptable, and with the approval of my coach, I'm making my way back into the horse show ring this weekend!!!

YYYAAAYYYYY!!!!

My original summer plans were to show Shadow, the pony I trained last summer, in his first shows this year, but that didn't end up happening. The friend of mine that took him to his first show has ended up continuing the season on him, and they're doing pretty well. So since she and I ride in the same class, I haven't been able to ride Shadow much and my coach has had me working with a new mare named Moonstone. Moonie is pretty green- she does all her basic flatwork and is just learning to jump. She's very honest, that is, she wants to do what you ask of her, even when the circumstances aren't optimal, but she takes a little more work to go forward from leg pressure and has a very sensitive mouth. Either way, she's my kind of horse- older than most horses when they start their training and nervous about life. Those are the ones I like.

This is her:

And I believe she's going to be formally named Clair de Lune, in keeping with her moon-related barn name and the fact that it's one of my favourite pieces of music. It's very quiet and sweet, just like her. :)

She's a super good girl and I cannot wait to see how she reacts to the whole situation. AH I love horse shows! It might be an epic failure, but whatever! If Moonie is a good girl and I don't ride like complete crap, I'll be the happiest girl alive.

Rude Awakening?

*Classic*Charm* — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 23:27:21 GMT

I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately and I've no idea why, but last night was one of the worst. I finally fell asleep, I guess around 4am? Anyways, my bedroom is in the basement, so my window is quite a bit higher than my bed, and it's depressed as well, so there's about an 8 inch ledge that my fish bowl sits on. My cats also like to sit in the window to watch the world go by. Last night, my cat Boots was sitting up there and decided it would be fun to jump over the fish bowl to sit on the other side of it.

He jumps.
His foot gets caught in the bowl.
The bowl tips over.

I am awoken at 5:15am by a litre of fishy water being POURED over me.

So my first thought is obviously to make sure that my fish Rutherford is ok. Thank god he didn't fall over the ledge, either into my bed (ew) or down onto the carpet below. He was lying on his side on the ledge, so I had to grab the bowl, refill it quickly, purify the water, and get the poor little guy back in there. He survived! YAY!! And then I had to try to clean up the fishy water and little rocks that were all over my bed, pillows, carpet, and myself. Then I crawled into bed in our spare bedroom, and fell asleep again by about 7, just to be woken up an hour later by my mum, asking why I wasn't in my own bed. Yeesh. Fun times. Needless to say, not much sleep was had last night.

Damn animals.

On that note, I suppose I should add that both my horses are lame right now. Injured, for the non-horsey people. Tobasco has arthritis in his front right fetlock (analogous to the human wrist, basically), and the sudden cold weather and rain again makes him sore. Shadow's sore in his hind leg. Looks like a light muscle strain. Luckily neither are serious injuries and they should both be fine soon. I rode my friend's horse instead last night and he was AWESOME.

Ah well. Crazy critters.

My other rude awakening yesterday was less literal, I suppose. I decided for my riding lesson last night that I was going to wear my field boots (the tall black leather riding boots). I only ever wore them when I was showing because I'm anal about keeping them in good shape. And these boots, oh these glorious boots! When I bought them, I got them on sale for almost half price because they were a random size combo and thank goodness because I could never have afforded them at full price. But they fit PERFECTLY. Like, they could have been custom (which some crazy rich riders pay thousands to have made). And I kept them so nice and shiny black that you could see your face in them.

Anyways, I was feeling sentimental since I haven't shown since October of 2007 (the beginning of university), and I figured I should see how they feel since I'm planning to get back in the show ring this summer. So I hook them onto my boot pulls and start to pull them on.

Let me explain- field boots are supposed to be so tight that you have to use metal hooks attached to straps inside the boot to pull them on. Picture a snake eating a pig.

So I start to pull the first on on and it's pretty tight. And I'm thinking "well, I know I've gained a little weight since going to university and lost some my muscle tone in my legs, but I must just be forgetting how tight they're supposed to be". Right?

Not so much.

By the time it's all the way on, I've realized that there is not much circulation getting past my knee. And it's so tight, that I'm not going to bother trying to get it off, because then I'll be late for my lesson. So I start pulling on the second boot. And I pull. And I pull. And my breeches are bunching up at the knee because if my leg is going into that boot, my pants aren't going to fit as well. But I get it up as far as it will go, which is about an inch below the crook of my knee (they're supposed to lie right in the bend of the knee). And now I'm thinking "Oh crap". The time is now 15 mins past when I should have left home for the barn.

So I stand up and grab all my stuff and I'm heading out to the car when I realize...my legs are starting to go numb. Whoops. Back in the house I go. And I can't get them off. And my dad can't get them off. So we go out to the garage where my dad houses his other child, his full utility-size air compressor. I shove the hose into my boot, turn on the air, and inflate my boot sto the point where I can pull my legs out.

Thank god my boots are okay. But it looks like I have more work to do than I thought before I'll be getting back to the show ring after all. :sick:

I just remembered I had this photo. A friend took it for no reason whatsoever, but there it is! Haha

Don't Get Too Excited

*Classic*Charm* — Sat, 30 May 2009 01:51:00 GMT

This is nothing but a whiny rant, so feel free to ignore! I just have some stuff bothering me I need to complain about. And I know that in the grand scheme of things, it's nothing bad and other people are going through far worse things in their lives. Oh well. I don't want to inflict this on anyone around me so if you waste your time on this, it's not my fault!

So where to start. How about my premature aging? I feel like a friggin old lady. What the eff is wrong with my knees!?! Yes, I have a touch of arthritis already, and patella-femoral syndrome, so yeah, if I'm out of shape which I am because I haven't been to the gym in a while and then I suddenly start start putting some stress on them, they're going to be a little bit swollen. But why the hell do my thighs just meld right into my knees? They should not be that swollen!!! And not just that, but the other night I got a sharp pain in my right knee that spread down to my ankle and up to my hip when I bent my leg! And it's still here three days later!! And now it's not just my knees that are swollen but my calves and ankles too! The calves are probably from riding, so I can deal with that; that will go away once they muscle up again. And the ankles are from wearing heels to work but what can I do? I have to be dressed nice! But now my mom wants me to stop riding because of what it's doing to my knees! It's bad enough my doctor told me I'm not allowed to run anymore, but stop riding? NEVER. EVER. I'm 19 years old!! I should not swell up after just being on my feet for a few hours! What happens when I actually get old??

And about riding. I ended up in tears at the end of my lesson last night because of what my coach said to me during that lesson. I spent the whole hour on a circle just getting Tobasco into a frame (so in a nice shape moving off my leg). The rest of my class went on with the lesson and my coach just said I wasn't working hard enough and left me there until I got it. What else can I do when I've set my hands against his face and he's just leaning back against me and no matter what I do with the legs and seat he won't soften and bend and move away from my leg without scooting forward? My whole body was aching and I couldn't breathe and I still kept going. I've been working with this horse for YEARS and I haven't been able to get him to do it ever (neither has anyone else for that matter), and all of a sudden it's supposed to happen in one hour? And then by the end when everyone else was finished and she came back I finally got him to give and do it, then she tells me I'm LAZY. "You're too nice to him. And really, it's just laziness. I'm not saying you're intentionally lazy, you just are, up here" and points to her head. WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?!?! Never, ever, even when I was riding at least 4 days a week, did I ever not do a full workout when I rode. Every time I get in the saddle I work both myself and my horse. I've only ever wanted to be the best possible rider I could be, and to get the most out of a horse that most people think is a waste of time and energy. A person can call me lazy about a lot of aspects of my life, but not riding. A couple years ago, I had a riding injury that stretched the nerves in my left arm and I lost feeling in the arm for a couple weeks. When I got off after my lesson last night, I had partially lost feeling in that arm again. Great. I've never been so insulted in my life. But whatever. I'll have him carrying himself in a frame by the end of the summer if I have to kill myself to do it, if that's what it takes to make her see. And I'll do it riding one day a week. And good luck to anyone else who tries to get him to do it if they haven't already been riding the friggin horse for 7 years like I have.

And I haven't gotten to ride Shadow since I've been back, since I knew I wasn't in good-enough shape and I didn't want to screw him up since he's still green. He's starting to forget me though, since I haven't been able to spend as much time with him. That sucks.

Moving on from the ponies...is it bad when a friendship starts to feel more like an obligation than a pleasure? I love K. We've been friends since we were really young, and we're pretty close. She's more like a family member than a friend now, but spending time with her has become a chore. What is there to do or talk about? We have none of the same interests anymore, we can't even go out to a bar and have a drink and just talk, because she'll order something with alcohol in it knowing that she doesn't like alcohol and will spend the rest of the evening complaining about the money she wasted. And we have nothing else to talk about because she volunteers no information about her life whatsoever.

"How are you?"
"Good."
"Yeah? How's school?"
"Good. Busy."
"And work?"
"Fine."
"How are things with Jason?"
"Fine. He's good."
Awkward silence.

Seriously? What else am I supposed to say? The only time she says any more than that is when she's gotten into a ridiculous argument with her roommates which are usually only happening because she's blown something way out of proportion (*hypocrite alert* :lol:)
When I told her last week that I didn't have time to hang out but would call her this week, I didn't want to, but I did. I sent her a text message on my lunch yesterday asking her what she was up to this weekend. After that I didn't have a chance to check my phone until late last night because I was so busy. She left me 5 texts and a phone message and then she called my house again this morning when I was at work. To tell me that she was free this weekend. What, are we dating or something? HOLY CRAP. I thought you said you were really busy this summer? When do you have time for that?

And then there's this other person. Who makes me feel like I've had a blindfold wrapped over my eyes, sweet nothings whispered in my ear, then been spun around in circles and left to figure out what the hell just happened. And just when the dizziness has disappeared and I can find my way around, more sweet nothings to distract me, more spinning, and I'm lost again. And I keep wandering around in the dark, wondering if the whisperer is going to come back, coming to terms with the fact that it's over, and then ta da! I can't keep doing this! And yet, apparently I can.

Hmm, what else...Oh! Where the hell are my concert tickets?!?! They should have been here MONTHS ago! After the stupid place lost them in the mail and tried to send me new ones. Haven't got those yet either!

I think that's about it. Seriously, I'm aware that this is all petty and blown out of proportion and ridiculous, but I figure if I put it here than I don't have to whine to someone in person and have them think I'm a giant tool. If anyone who reads this thinks I am, well, then I guess I am. Sorry!

I just feel like I'm in a weird state of limbo where the things I always thought I could count on just aren't the same and everything is out of sorts and it's overwhelming me. I hate change and feeling out of control. Nothing is consistent anymore.

P.s. Dear Best friend, I know you're not there because you want to be, but even if you weren't there, you'd be somewhere else that's not home. I miss you and I love you and I wish things were like they used to be. <3 L.

Disappointment Can Always be Overcome by Ponies

*Classic*Charm* — Mon, 04 May 2009 23:09:12 GMT

Well, I found out the other day that what was planned to be the highlight of my summer was no longer going to be possible. Last summer, I had the privilege of training a pony for my stable. His name is formal name is Casanova, but we call him Shadow and he was bought from a meat auction. He was purchased as a 7 year old stallion, and we found out that he had been bred before, and had been mishandled and abused, and had never had a saddle on his back. After being gelded (thank goodness), he was brought to the school, and given to me to work with. He started out being afraid of anyone who lifted a hand around his head, and kicking out at anyone who tried to touch his hind legs.

By the end of my three months with him, he could be touched and handled with hardly any spooking, could do all his basic work under saddle, and was starting to jump small fences. He was by far the most gentle and well-behaved pony I have ever had the pleasure of riding. He went into the school for the winter and has progressed so well. When I was home to ride over Christmas break, we were jumping full courses of little jumps. The highlight of my summer was going to be to take him to his first horse show.

Unfortunately, a friend's horse came up with an injury and as a replacement, my coach suggested she show Shadow. So yesterday, my Shadow pony made his debut with another rider. And as disappointed as I was that it wasn't me riding, I couldn't remain so. HE WAS A STAR!! He didn't bat an eyelash at the different barn or the different horses or the scary decorations on the jumps.

So here he is, Shadow ridden by my friend Emily<3

And then I got to Spend some time with my other guy, Tobasco, who is my pride and joy.

I love my boys so much! They just make all the cares of the world go away...and I just can't help showing them off :D

Fluorescence

*Classic*Charm* — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 01:35:49 GMT

Wow I'm extremely nervous and extremely hesitant about this...but if not here, to whom?

I had a strange sort of revelation about myself one day this past January. You know how people say that they have these life-altering moments where the light bulb goes on in their head and suddenly everything is miraculously clear? I didn't have one of those (that would be a touch dramatic, don't you think?), but I did come to a realization about something I had been sort of confused about, and I'm going to try to describe it because it applies to the sort of day I've had today. And so far, the few people I've described it to (only my closest friends because I'm afraid people will think I'm crazy, or tell me it's some sort of disorder) have given me a strange look and told me this doesn't happen to them. So here it is. If I'm ill...well, I can't decide if I want you to tell me or not.

Every now and then I have these days that are sort of unusual. There are days when I am so, completely and utterly Happy, with a capital "H". And I mean Happy, not just in a good mood. I feel it as soon as I wake in the morning, and everything goes perfectly and things that on any normal day I wouldn't notice or care about put me over the moon and things that normally would piss me right off I completely disregard which is EXTREMELY unusual. Things that would normally make my day on a normal day, well, there's no describing how they make me feel on a day like this. The first time it happened, January of last year, I could not remember ever having felt like that before, and everyone around me noticed. And then there are days when it would be better for the world if I locked myself in a room for the day. Everything is hopelessly, maddeningly bad and I hit a terrible low, which, again, is different than en everyday bad mood. The days when I'm Happy or Low cannot be affected by anything else, like factors can change a good or bad mood.

Days like this don't happen very often. Months will go by without either type. Usually they only last for one day. Well, the Lows have only ever lasted for a day, the Happy sometimes lasts for a couple days, though this past november I had a stretch of more than a week. It was unreal.

I didn't understand what it was about these days that was so different than every other day, that could completely take me over. I just didn't really think about it, and I didn't really notice that the extremes were so obvious until I tried describing them to one of my two best friends, whom I rarely get to see when we were home on our winter holidays.

I realized that on these days, the world is a different colour. On days when I am truly Happy, everything I see has a sort of glow about it. It's brighter, and sharper. The best way to describe it is that the world seems fluorescent. And on the Low days, everything is dull and blurry and slightly green. The rest of the time, that is, the vast majority of the time, everything is completely normal.

So once I realized this, I started to recognize the extreme days. And then I started trying to figure out what triggers them. Logically, it seemed like the Happy days should happen when school was going well, I wasn't experiencing any stress, I'd be getting along with my roommates, etc. And yes, the good days did typically fall into times when things had been good for an extended period of time, but they didn't always. Once I tried to force a Happy day. It didn't work. And on low days, I've tried to pick myself up by doing everything possible to make myself feel better and nothing works. So really, I have no control over this whatsoever.

I'm really nervous about admitting this, because I'm terrified that there might be something unusual about me. The last thing I want to do is call attention to this, which of course seems enormously hypocritical since I'm posting this in a public blog, but it's not something I'd really like to tell people I know and see everyday. Sometimes all you need is some reassurance, I suppose.

It really only occurred to me to write this because I'm having one of those days today, and I haven't had one in a while. Today, I am exquisitely happy. Everything today has been absolutely beyond perfect, though if you asked me what I'd done today, there really wasn't much. Yet the world shines in my eyes.

For whom else does it shine?

My On and Off Relationship with Precipitation

*Classic*Charm* — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 05:14:32 GMT

I have very mixed feelings in regard to rain. That is to say, my relationship with it is extremely conditional.

The simple fact that the little bit of rain we got here today results in my having an ice pack on each knee puts a slight damper on my opinion of the...well...damp.

But how to explain my feelings? I suppose I should go from the most mild to the most severe. That seems logical in this most useless of ramblings.

The most mild would of course be mist. What is mist, exactly? If anyone knows, please share the knowledge around. I have no idea, nor have I the slightest inclination of its purpose or usefulness. Really, it seems like a waste of time and effort on behalf of the clouds if you ask me. It's not enough water to be of use to any sort of vegetation, and it only results in dangerous fog and the utter rebellion of my hair against the normative conformities of curls. As a side note, I must mention that it is extremely likely that my hair is a major factor in my response to precipitous conditions. It's a girl thing, to which I am unfortunately subject.

Mist is the kind of thing that isn't enough water to drench the hair so I look like a drowned cat, as would be reasonably acceptable. Nope. It's just enough to send my head into a frenzy, as though the frizz faeries have com at me from all angles and taken each strand of hair in a different direction. I look like a mad scientist. And I'm cold to boot. Bad News. This rain is like that irritating girl in the seat behind you in the movies who talks just loud enough the whole time to spoil the whole thing. She's not loud enough that anyone will tell her to be quiet, but she's just enough to ruin the experience.

Then, I suppose, comes the light rain, or drizzle, as it were. That's what we've got today. You know how it is- warm air, a blanket of thick silver clouds wrapped around the sky, just enough water to darken the sidewalk pavement. This kind of rain I don't mind, as long as I have nowhere to go. This is the kind of rain that makes me want to stay huddled up in a ball in bed, drinking hot tea and reading all day. If the earth gets to be wrapped in it's own cloudy quilt, why can't I? The weather and I, on these days, are old friends, the comfortable kind of friends, curled up in bed together, silent and content to let the day pass in a haze.

But everyone knows this sort of thing can only last for a day. After one day, you have to get out of bed and get some work done. After one day, that rain had better be gone before it makes a mud pit of the campus I call home for many hours each day. My shoes don't appreciate this much either.

Ooh now we get to summer rain. Who couldn't love summer rain? Soft, warm drops kissing your face and turning the world a lush shade of emerald. This is when one thing and one thing only is appropriate: dancing. Yes. This is the one time when it is best to forget everything, go out into the brilliance, and become one with the gleeful laughter of summer raindrops filling the air. Of course, having a partner is better for this, but if all else fails, get out there, and tell everyone what they're missing. "What a glorious feeling! I'm happy again!" Gene Kelly understood!

The laughter fades to gloom when Mother Nature is feeling disgruntled and uncorks the bottle of heavy rain upon us. She builds a steel wall around everything and drowns the day in waves of oppressive rain which choke out the plants, strip trees of their leafy dress, and leave every person or animal unfortunate enough to have to brave the weather looking rather indistinguishable. In fewer words: we all look like dogs that fell in the river. I don't much like looking like a drowned dog, thank you very much.

And finally, we get to the lovers' quarrel of precipitation. The thunder storm. The glorious, wondrous thunderstorm. What's not to love, I ask you? Can one propose a more peaceful yet exhilarating experience than lying in the dark, listening to the passionate argument of a thunder storm? The thunder resounds its jealous displeasure with a possessive rumbling and desperate crack. The lightning furiously flushes the sky, shielding its insecurity in a midnight sun that blinds with its unbridled intensity and frustration. The quarrel is only resolved when all that is left is the deep, breathy sigh of thick raindrops, the apologetic whisper of wind through the dense heated air, and the comforting, enveloping arms of the familiar silver sky.

Who would have thought that one weather phenomenon could have such a varied effect on one's emotions and response toward it? Am I the only one that thinks this much about rain? Somehow I doubt it, though I think others may disagree with my romantic notions about thunderstorms. They clearly haven't paid enough attention.

It's sad that my relationship with precipitation is dependent on so many specific conditions. I suppose that makes me high-maintenance! Oh well.

Rain can just love me or leave me!

Say Hello to my Vicious Temper

*Classic*Charm* — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 21:50:55 GMT

Why is anger so intense?

I have the pleasure of living with my best friend. We've been friends since the second grade, and I don't know how to get through my days without her. Needless to say, if anything ever happened to her, I would personally hunt down whoever had hurt or offended her and by the time I was done with them, they would regret being alive.

I have been absolutely furious all day today because of what happened to her last night, and quite frankly I could not care less if I'm being completely ridiculous, which I'm sure that I'm not. To be honest, everything else that could possibly have gone wrong today did as well, but that doesn't even compare.

Here's what happened. My friend/ roommate (whose name is Erin) is in probably the most difficult program this university has to offer. There are only thirty people taking this major, and they all failed a midterm last night so they decided to hang out and then go out to the bars. Erin had too much to drink. It happens. So by the time she got to the bar, she was only with the group for about half an hour before she was in need of the restroom, where she proceeded to pass out. When she came to and left the bathroom, all her friends and her stuff were gone. The bar was closed.

She had been unconscious in the bathroom for 2 hours. No one noticed she was gone. No one went to look for her. When her friends decided it was time to leave, they should she had gone home with someone, and that she had left all her stuff at the bar, so they took it. Her coat, keys, and cell phone. It was in the negative temperatures last night and she was not wearing anywhere close to enough to keep her warm in those temperatures.

So Erin stumbles out of the bar to the street where the Magic Bus comes. The Magic Bus is a free late night bus service that takes all the drunks home. Those bus drivers are the best people in the world. So Erin gets on the bus, where she happens to come across one of her friends, who lends her his coat until he has to get off the bus. He leaves her alone on the bus at which point some creeper lends her his coat and proceeds to start kissing her. Thank God the bus driver put a stop to that, brought her to our doorstep, and waited until she had pounded on the door enough to wake me up and was in the house for me to take care of her.

Now let me be clear: I give Erin the full responsibility for drinking so much. That was dumb. But it happens. But...

HOW? HOW DO YOU NOT NOTICE WHEN ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS DISAPPEARS IN THE BAR WITH NO ONE ELSE AND DOES NOT COME BACK? AND YOU THINK SHE'S GOING TO LEAVE THE BAR WITHOUT TELLING ANYONE AND LEAVE ALL HER STUFF BEHIND? COME ON?!? HOW CAN YOU BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE? WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF THEY HAD DONE THE SAME TO YOU? ANYTHING COULD HAVE HAPPENED!

It's been eating at me all day. I can never forgive people who do things like this. Ever.

Thank God she's okay.

I Don't Write Anymore

*Classic*Charm* — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 16:48:43 GMT

This is something I've been thinking about quite a bit lately. When I was younger I wrote all the time. Short stories, newspaper articles, my own reference books I'd done research for, novels (of the 8-year-old-thinks-a-novel-is-just-an-infinitely-detailed-short-story variety). And I remember that my imagination was a dominant part of my thinking at all times. Everything I saw, I coloured in as though the world was only a black and white colouring book outline and it was up to me to fill in the vibrancy and contrast. Every person and animal I saw had a name and a brilliant story in my mind, and I wrote it all down.

I don't anymore. I don't see things like that anymore. These incredible adventures and dramas simply do not occur. And when I realize this, I wonder why exactly I was like that and why I'm not anymore. I miss it. It feels like I'm not quite myself.

The inevitable conclusion I reach is that science has killed my imagination.

Now let's get this straight- this is not going to become a science bashing session. I love science. It blows my mind daily. Very little gets me as excited as a good lecture on equine anatomy or immunology or reproduction. I'm that awkward girl who is so absorbed by the lecture she sits on the edge of her seat and forgets to take notes.

This doesn't change the fact, though, that the end of my creative thought correlates directly to the beginning of my being completely absorbed by science.

It's almost as though a knowledge of reality has stamped out my ability to believe in and create alternatives. But that can't be all! Far more intelligent and worldly people than I have vastly more knowledge of science and reality than I do, yet they're great writers! Where did my thoughts go?

I've also tried chalking this up to the whole growing up thing, and the inevitable theft of my bright-eyedness and bushy-tailedness. As a child I resided in a complete fantasy world. My company were Disney princesses and talking animals, and with this I was more than content. I find it extremely difficult to believe that once one hits a certain age, this all just gets stamped out, like the convenient disappearance of a minor's criminal record once he or she turns eighteen. It can't just go away! Somewhere, in a dusty filing cabinet in a forgotten closet, some scrap of paper documents that kid's armed grocery store robbery. Somewhere, in some secluded corner of my mind, a talking horse with a flowing silver mane must stand guard over all the infinite possibilities of my imagination.

The last time I wrote something creative...when was that? In my last year of high school I took a Writers' Craft course. It taught me a few technical things, but every piece I wrote was some literal reflection that I learned to embellish with pretty description. My final culminating assignment was a play that my teacher told me I should send to a publisher. I was extremely flattered, but I wasn't proud of the piece. It wasn't creative at all. It had no life of its own, it just...was.

There was a piece I started for that class that I felt something for. I never finished it though, because I've never had any inspiration to do so. That feeling of being drawn to pen and paper hasn't returned, despite the fact that that piece has taken up residence in my permanent memory. It was only a random page that I had to do for class, but I can't forget about it.

Why then, have I no idea what to do about it? It's like sitting down to write and realizing you're missing your hand. What do you do? I can't just force it when there's nothing there, no emotion.

Am I doomed? Is my imagination gone? Am I stuck now, in a factual, colour-photocopy world? I miss writing. I miss stories fluttering about my head like butterflies from flower to flower.

I feel incomplete. There's a part of me that's been silenced and I can't seem to strike up the orchestra.

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