So....Lets start with last week when my Wallet got stolen. Don't know how or where, but it did. I cancelled my debit card and hoped to heaven it would show up somewhere stupid...like the refrigerator...no such luck. Some guy saw it fly out of a car window on the highway and I had a professors card in it so he called her...she called me and I recovered the wallet on Thursday. It was stripped of the cash I was going to take to the school to pay off my account, and my card but my ID was still in there...lucky me.
Then, Saturday I had a horse show. A stupid local county show that I was taking Sissy to for Halter, and Dreamer for one english pleasure class. I started practicing halter stuff with Sissy on Monday, so my expectations were dirt low, but she is so smart and ready to please that she took right to it...even squaring fairly well! So My mom and I loaded the horses and set out. And the fun began. Dreamer in his telltale way immediately started misbehaving in the trailer. Only this time, instead of pounding and kicking, he was trying to fall down and scramble around. We got to Orofino and Dreamer had scraped the skin off of his knee, was dripping wet, the floor under him was pooled with sweat (not even exaggerating a little) and was lame. Awesome. Sissy was dry and calm, bless her heart! So I had to scratch dreamer and add sis to his class and I proceded to walk him out. The announcer kept saying "okay, now we are going to take a ten minute break..." and it would never happen. Then she said "okay now we are really taking a ten minute break...wait never mind calling halter mares." SHIT. So I had to run with my sweet girl in tow to the arena, go in, she was a saint and performed perfectly...really, I couldn't believe how good she was! Then she got second...okay out of two but she placed. The Mare that placed first was black and white and a little on the thin side...like right between needs groceries and perfect weight. Well the judge walked up to the girl who handled her and said that the mare was too fat....EXCUSE ME?????????? I was so pissed! MY mare is fat, yes, but that mare could use some grain!!!! What kind of horrible person says that???????? Like if that mare were any thinner I would say she was absolutely skinny! When a horse is "too fat" you cannot see ribs of any sort and this mare was a BCS 3!!!!! Grrrrr. I put my horses in the trailer and we bounced back up the hill. But I decided then and there that I am not taking Dreamer to any more of those shows. It isn't worth it! There is nothing more he can learn from that sort of thing, whereas I have Rocky and Sissy who would both benefit from the experience. Nope, never again. Unless we are going to an event or something that will mean anything in the end, Dreamer stays home. I hate to put him through that when I know, at the end of the day, he hates walk, trot, canter around the ring five minutes each way, halt, back up, repeat.
Now for Sunday: I started the day by sleeping in until 8:30 (yes, I AM a rebel) and then reading until 9:30. Then I went to my mom's house and we spent 3 hours picking blueberries and I made blueberry muffins...let me tell you how much I kick ass at making fresh blueberry muffins!!!!! Then I went home to take a nap, but I got a little OCD on my house. I vacuumed, dusted, cleaned and put away! It sparkles! Then I made dinner and read for a few more hours and tried to go to bed. I had to read here too because I couldn't sleep. Then the kitten curled up on my stomach and started purring and I zonked out...only to wake fifteen minutes later when said kitten got bored of being sweet and dumped my water all over me! Cold calculating brat!!!
SO, I got cleaned up, went to bed and zonked out again. Then 30 minutes later, Peter show up finally and said "you have to drive your truck tomorrow I hit a deer with the car." Whatever I thought....wait....WHAT?????????????? I went out to the shop and thankfully he hit the deer with the left front marker and it flipped up and destroyed the drivers side of the windshield...therefore the windshield in it's entirety as it is difficult and, consequently, illegal to drive with a shattered windshield. But Peter was not hurt, the car still runs well, and we had not put the new radiator in yet....phew. But, I was so keyed up that it took me another two hours to get to sleep, and then, the next thing I knew it was 5:00 and I had to get up so I could drive two hours to work...blech.
This coming weekend and the following week I am staying in Moscow to Babysit for Megan and Scott, and the weekend after that I have company. But I solemnly swear right now that I am going to do NOTHING the weekend after that! SO far being a grownup has been a real bitch! Peter and I can't seem to catch a break! And now, I am earning 26 a year with a BS in Ag management...BS is right!!!!!!!!!! I'm already considering going back to school...which will have to wait until I can earn the money that was stolen back so that I can get my transcripts... woe is me!
Monday, August 9, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Why Me?
Here I am...alone in the Lewiston Airport. I am supposed to be on a plane to Salt Lake City right now...where I catch another to Atlanta, then another still to Jackson where my trip is to end. I have to work at the National Appaloosa Show as I am employed by the registry.
All of my colleagues (well the ones that were leaving today) are on that plane to SLC. Maybe I should back up a few hours.....
.......
I woke up at 4:00 AM litterally standing by the bed;I knew I was late. The cats were hissing and peter was running around trying to find the car keys...then remembered he: popriety demands pants too. I grabbed a bra, jammed my toothbrush around in my mouth and streaked out the door pausing long enough to grab my carryon baggage and make sure pater had my checked baggage in the truck.
Then we started hauling ASS!!!! We made it down the grade in 7 minutes...normally a 30 minute trip...I'm not sure how we survived. I started praying that God would keep us safe...and every time I said "Amen," we passed a cop who would kindly turn his lights on to remind us that the speed limit was 55....not 85. No one pulled us over though.
At 4:45 we were stuck at a construction light, and driving 100 mph or not we are 30 minutes away from the airport...but that's okay, I can print my boarding pass and jump on the plane. Then my phone rings.
"Hi where are you?" My boss snipped....shit.
"I'm on my way, I'm sorry to worry you..." To which c=she said: "well you have to check in by 5:00."
Shit.
I hung up the phone with the knowledge that we were not going to make it. What the hell??? The last day I worked I was told that the Admin Lady was going to check us all in and we would just have to print boarding passes. I guess that didn't happen, but it wouldn't have mattered because I got to the airport just in time to see the plane full of people I work with blinking off into the distance.
I'm in big trouble. My boss sounded pissed enough on the phone...she is going to flog me!
So, I speak with the boy at the counter and I have to change my flight. The next plane leaves here at noon...10 minutes after my connection in SLC leaves for Atlanta. Anyways, the kid was really nice, and only charged me $50 to change my entire itinerary. No, instead of arriving at Jackson at 5:45, I get there at 9:55...and then I got in the truck and cried!
Peter and I went to Shari's where we gagged down soggy bacon, powdered egg substitute and toxic coffee. Then he dropped me off at the airport where I now sit...listening to the best of the 60s 70s and 80s and the clock tick-tocking its way to twelve...slowly.
I am going to be gone for a month, and my trip is already messed up. This had better be worth all of the trouble...for me, my employer and my friends and family who have to pick up the slack while I'm gone!
All of my colleagues (well the ones that were leaving today) are on that plane to SLC. Maybe I should back up a few hours.....
.......
I woke up at 4:00 AM litterally standing by the bed;I knew I was late. The cats were hissing and peter was running around trying to find the car keys...then remembered he: popriety demands pants too. I grabbed a bra, jammed my toothbrush around in my mouth and streaked out the door pausing long enough to grab my carryon baggage and make sure pater had my checked baggage in the truck.
Then we started hauling ASS!!!! We made it down the grade in 7 minutes...normally a 30 minute trip...I'm not sure how we survived. I started praying that God would keep us safe...and every time I said "Amen," we passed a cop who would kindly turn his lights on to remind us that the speed limit was 55....not 85. No one pulled us over though.
At 4:45 we were stuck at a construction light, and driving 100 mph or not we are 30 minutes away from the airport...but that's okay, I can print my boarding pass and jump on the plane. Then my phone rings.
"Hi where are you?" My boss snipped....shit.
"I'm on my way, I'm sorry to worry you..." To which c=she said: "well you have to check in by 5:00."
Shit.
I hung up the phone with the knowledge that we were not going to make it. What the hell??? The last day I worked I was told that the Admin Lady was going to check us all in and we would just have to print boarding passes. I guess that didn't happen, but it wouldn't have mattered because I got to the airport just in time to see the plane full of people I work with blinking off into the distance.
I'm in big trouble. My boss sounded pissed enough on the phone...she is going to flog me!
So, I speak with the boy at the counter and I have to change my flight. The next plane leaves here at noon...10 minutes after my connection in SLC leaves for Atlanta. Anyways, the kid was really nice, and only charged me $50 to change my entire itinerary. No, instead of arriving at Jackson at 5:45, I get there at 9:55...and then I got in the truck and cried!
Peter and I went to Shari's where we gagged down soggy bacon, powdered egg substitute and toxic coffee. Then he dropped me off at the airport where I now sit...listening to the best of the 60s 70s and 80s and the clock tick-tocking its way to twelve...slowly.
I am going to be gone for a month, and my trip is already messed up. This had better be worth all of the trouble...for me, my employer and my friends and family who have to pick up the slack while I'm gone!
Monday, February 22, 2010
Bluh
Why is it that the last semester is the hardest? I know that they always say the first step is the hardest, but I call BS on that! I am in my last semester of college and I feel like I am going crazy. Maybe the problem is that it is a last step and a first step in one fell knock-you-on-your-ass swoop. I have no idea what I'm doing or where we are going to live in May. Me and Peter, and 3 horses, a dog two cats a rabbit a gerbil and a boat load of stuff! We don't know about jobs, housing, or anything that spells S-E-C-U-R-I-T-Y. Not to mention that the classes I am taking are not only rediculous in scope, but also in content! STUPID I tell you! Ugh, you always hear abou tpeople having a coasting last semester...where is mine?
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On the other hand, I am having a very good horsey time. I got my mare back, and she is the best! She hasn't been touched in a year, and it's like I just rode her last week. It is gratifying to know that all of the work I did stuck!
Yesterday I rode Elly's baby Ony for the fifth time and he was such a good little boy. We keep challenging and pushing him and he always rises to the occasion. Of course, he has now decided he will only stand still if he can turn his head to my foot and get lovins....Im okay with that, but we will work on just standing still. He is your typical Arab, though. I mean, they are all different people, but they all learn at an alarming rate under the right touch and level of understanding. I think that all of the problems people have with Arabs arise because they teach them bad habbits without even knowing it. If you ensure that they get a good solid foundation of only learning good things...this is done by understanding bad behavior and knowing what leads up to it...they will be the best horse you have ever owned. The horse you put your children on because your quarter horse is having a bad hair day, and the horse you put your greeny husband on because the horse will teach him how to ride. I love arabs, and I can't wait to have more of my own.
This circles back to Sissy because I have all but convinced myself to breed her Arab. Yes she is a quarter horse, and yes these troubled times are bad for hobby breeding, but I think it would be perfect. I know from past ex[eriences that I can sell Quarabs to anyone...ranchers, show people, endurance riders....I sense a niche market and I am going to jump in. The only thing that is difficult is that I would want to keep that baby. Funny it is easier for me to sell a quarter baby than an arab baby...but who could blame me?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the other hand, I am having a very good horsey time. I got my mare back, and she is the best! She hasn't been touched in a year, and it's like I just rode her last week. It is gratifying to know that all of the work I did stuck!
Yesterday I rode Elly's baby Ony for the fifth time and he was such a good little boy. We keep challenging and pushing him and he always rises to the occasion. Of course, he has now decided he will only stand still if he can turn his head to my foot and get lovins....Im okay with that, but we will work on just standing still. He is your typical Arab, though. I mean, they are all different people, but they all learn at an alarming rate under the right touch and level of understanding. I think that all of the problems people have with Arabs arise because they teach them bad habbits without even knowing it. If you ensure that they get a good solid foundation of only learning good things...this is done by understanding bad behavior and knowing what leads up to it...they will be the best horse you have ever owned. The horse you put your children on because your quarter horse is having a bad hair day, and the horse you put your greeny husband on because the horse will teach him how to ride. I love arabs, and I can't wait to have more of my own.
This circles back to Sissy because I have all but convinced myself to breed her Arab. Yes she is a quarter horse, and yes these troubled times are bad for hobby breeding, but I think it would be perfect. I know from past ex[eriences that I can sell Quarabs to anyone...ranchers, show people, endurance riders....I sense a niche market and I am going to jump in. The only thing that is difficult is that I would want to keep that baby. Funny it is easier for me to sell a quarter baby than an arab baby...but who could blame me?
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