yay.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Ammendium.
In addition to my post about my wallet being stolen by "denim-on-denim" and my lovely day yesterday...
I had picked up a shift at work for yesterday because one of the bartenders is sick. I did it with the main intention to help out (I mean wed. night is not a huge money maker). Since it was a mid 3-9 shift I couldn't make it because of the whole wallet ordeal.
The manager told me he "MIGHT" have to write me up for it.
Wow. Although I accept responsibility for the ownership of the transferred shift, I was actually stepping up because yesterday was supposed to be one of my only two days off this week. Makes me really want to volenteer again, but...I have to take extra shifts, because I'm out $92 bucks.
I had picked up a shift at work for yesterday because one of the bartenders is sick. I did it with the main intention to help out (I mean wed. night is not a huge money maker). Since it was a mid 3-9 shift I couldn't make it because of the whole wallet ordeal.
The manager told me he "MIGHT" have to write me up for it.
Wow. Although I accept responsibility for the ownership of the transferred shift, I was actually stepping up because yesterday was supposed to be one of my only two days off this week. Makes me really want to volenteer again, but...I have to take extra shifts, because I'm out $92 bucks.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
so, a woman walks into a barn...
I just got home.
John the owner of the barn, and I went to breakfast this morning and when we got back he said that now is a good time to get the apples.
I had asked him earlier to take me out in the bucket of the tractor so that I can pick some apples off the tree in the pasture- the barn's bonfire & "weenie roast" is coming up on Sunday and I thought it would be neat to make some apple pie or something with them.
So I'm like "YAY" up in the tree and standing in the tractor bucket, I see a woman walk into the door of the barn. John said that I told him "There's a woman walking into the barn". People often stop by to ask about the horses or riding lessons, so I thought for a split second about having John lower me down so I can go see if she needed any help but then sluffed it off thinking it was one of the girl's mother- I didn't see a car out front and if it was somebody in need of help, they would eventually find us out there- and continued picking the apples.
Apples gathered, bucket ready to go, I ran into the barn to grab my purse where I had quickly put it on table and head down the walkway towards my car. "wow. this is not as FULL as it usually feels." I said to myself. I rummaged through it. It's NOT as full.
MY FUCKING WALLET WAS STOLEN BY THAT WOMAN?!?
I know. It's totally bizarre. The woman never materialized and I never even saw a car leave. I NEVER take my purse into the barn. Ever. Like I just said, totally bizarre. Who walks into a barn in the middle of suburbia and happens to see a purse there and THEN goes into it and takes the wallet?! The whoever was wearing a light blue blouse type shirt maybe even denim, not tucked in and some jeans or something.
When I realized all this, I went to grab a smoke. SHE TOOK MY SMOKES TOO?! grrrr. alright. Just because I'm sometimes the type to look for my cell phone while I am on it, I went to the breakfast place to see if maybe I left it there, or if it had fallen out of my purse...on my way back to the barn to look some more, I ran out of gas. I shit you not.
I had to serpentine a bit, but I made it far enough to park at the barn and had to get John to get one of his gas cans. Put some gas in my car, went to the bank, got some cigarretts and called the police to make a report, in which the officer was seven donouts LESS than patient or nice.
There was $93 in my wallet, my credit cards and the usual. I don't have a bank card so I think thats safe. That bitchwhoretrespassing-denim-on-denim slut can have the money- what I'll miss is the see thorough window on the back and the authentic cuban cigar label (that was GEORGEOUS) and the little black and white sticker that said "Never trust a preacher with a boner". THAT got lots of laughs.
John the owner of the barn, and I went to breakfast this morning and when we got back he said that now is a good time to get the apples.
I had asked him earlier to take me out in the bucket of the tractor so that I can pick some apples off the tree in the pasture- the barn's bonfire & "weenie roast" is coming up on Sunday and I thought it would be neat to make some apple pie or something with them.
So I'm like "YAY" up in the tree and standing in the tractor bucket, I see a woman walk into the door of the barn. John said that I told him "There's a woman walking into the barn". People often stop by to ask about the horses or riding lessons, so I thought for a split second about having John lower me down so I can go see if she needed any help but then sluffed it off thinking it was one of the girl's mother- I didn't see a car out front and if it was somebody in need of help, they would eventually find us out there- and continued picking the apples.
Apples gathered, bucket ready to go, I ran into the barn to grab my purse where I had quickly put it on table and head down the walkway towards my car. "wow. this is not as FULL as it usually feels." I said to myself. I rummaged through it. It's NOT as full.
MY FUCKING WALLET WAS STOLEN BY THAT WOMAN?!?
I know. It's totally bizarre. The woman never materialized and I never even saw a car leave. I NEVER take my purse into the barn. Ever. Like I just said, totally bizarre. Who walks into a barn in the middle of suburbia and happens to see a purse there and THEN goes into it and takes the wallet?! The whoever was wearing a light blue blouse type shirt maybe even denim, not tucked in and some jeans or something.
When I realized all this, I went to grab a smoke. SHE TOOK MY SMOKES TOO?! grrrr. alright. Just because I'm sometimes the type to look for my cell phone while I am on it, I went to the breakfast place to see if maybe I left it there, or if it had fallen out of my purse...on my way back to the barn to look some more, I ran out of gas. I shit you not.
I had to serpentine a bit, but I made it far enough to park at the barn and had to get John to get one of his gas cans. Put some gas in my car, went to the bank, got some cigarretts and called the police to make a report, in which the officer was seven donouts LESS than patient or nice.
There was $93 in my wallet, my credit cards and the usual. I don't have a bank card so I think thats safe. That bitchwhoretrespassing-denim-on-denim slut can have the money- what I'll miss is the see thorough window on the back and the authentic cuban cigar label (that was GEORGEOUS) and the little black and white sticker that said "Never trust a preacher with a boner". THAT got lots of laughs.
Monday, September 25, 2006
puttin it out there.
I'm wondering how legit it is to write a post about having nothing to write about. Lately I've been thinking about writing a post that is decently arranged, witty, and has a point but I think I've got so many things to say that I loose my place...
Where am I?
Well. I can tell you that the one thing I will ever remember about this summer is loosing my mind on a trip. In a tent. Mid-June. I thought I half way lost my mind until the manifestation of one BAD ASS case of strep throat that left me feeling physically weak and famished, full marble loss confimed with th
e addition of the twice devil "spirit" card. (I felt so shitty that for fun, I did a "mind, body, spirit" reading on myself in which I pulled the DEATH card as my "spirit" card-two weeks in a row.) How fitting. Thats how I felt. Like my spirit was DEAD.
I realized, but all I could do was wait it out. I really thought about checking myself into the hospital because I was sure the thoughts I was having were NOT normal. But that would cost too much, so I concentrated on focusing on positive things. Even when the positive thought of the day was "I didn't feel like puking after that bite of food" my mantra was "It could be ALOT worse."
I got the tickets to the weekend concert "in part" because my ex-boyfriend was playing on Saturday afternoon. I say "in part" because I got the tickets for doing a 45+ hour illustration for a CD that was actually not the right art direction and never used. I'm fine with that, and thankful- although it ended up costing me more to go to this thing (even though the tickets were free) than I should have been spending. Lesson learned. While at the amazing concert I decided to make it really fun and that's when 5th Ave. did me in. I found the hippy with the shrooms and ate some - well, ate A LOT.
This was wrong for so many reasons so I'm going to fast forward past the part where I began to think the hippie boys were going to rape us, the violent vomiting outside the concert walls, the woman that offered me tissues and the sister-like friend with me- that couldn't do a thing (although trying) to comfort me, the desperation I felt while running back to the tent, past the part where my mind was convinced that I had just poisoned it with psilocybins and I'm dealing by telling myself to "try and calm down. to go with it. and relax." The problem was that as soon as that thought reached my cognitive thinking it was meant with a response something like "GGRRRRAAAAUUUGGGHHHNOOOoooooOOO!YOURALLALONE!!!MWwwwAaaaAHaHaaH." Lesson learned.
I go to the tent and dove inside, snapped into the fetal position under the sleeping bag and kept saying to myself "time. TIME. time. TIME". Eventually a series of giggles would come bubbling out, but a soon as I sat up it was a less than perfect idea.
My phone was dead I wanted to talk to the ex-bf who was somewhere backstage. All I wanted in the whole wide world at that point in time was to talk with him. I can honestly say with every given conviction inside me that I would have SERIOUSLY given up my next few breaths for a moment of comfort.
I know he's not my bf anymore, and he hasent been for 3 stinking years. The only way I can explain it is that after 5 years of together and almost 3 years apart I still felt like he is the only one that knows me inside and out. He's encouragement to me. He is honest-safe. He had promised me in the past that he would be there immediently if I was ever in trouble and I took it to heart. I guess I put too much into the past situation emotionally because when I finally facilitated to turn on the car to plug in my phone, to dial the number, to get him on the other end, I got laughed at. He thought I was alright, I guess, he told me to have fun and relax. although you don't often hear me say "ITSBAD.ITSBAD.ITSBADBADBADBADBAAAAAAAD." on the other end of the phone. Then my phone died completely and I COULDN'T. COULD NOT. get the motor skills together to plug it back in. Lesson learned.
I just knew at that moment when he said the phone cut out and he didn't know where I was, that it was the universe telling me to stop living in the past and to giddy-up. I anticipated a voice mail from him from after my phone died so suddenly but nothing. These were not the actions of the man I knew three years ago.
The saturn advice of the old haggard librarian came back to me once again....
"...because honey, one day he's not going to be around and then where will your library card be?" hah, well. His is on the main stage and mine, well it's still here in Youngstown right where he left it. (this is in no way, shape or form a blaming statment. I know that's possessively my problem)
I thought I was fine, I found out it was an emotional facade. I have that love, I know. But it's now in a little box with a bow rather than on my sleeve. No matter how much I miss it, or him. That's the way it has to be because that's the way things are.
I'm trying to work through what just happend on the phone and I look up to see my friend, my BELOVED friend sitting on top her car tripping - alone.
NOW I'm trying to work through the poison in my body, the phone call, and seeing her alone in that state feeling a bit shunned because of my requests for him. I'm sure and embarrased to say I was the one gung-ho for finding some shrooms, and now the emotions are REALLY of wack because I could not explain to her my reasons for wanting him and not her.
I survived the night to wake up feeling like I did something VERY wrong. I felt like something inside me schrivelled up and died. Got back home and had to deal with the job offer I got at this fabulous little advertising agency. I was really excited about it, until I got offered a wage comparable to and less than a tele-marketing position. I felt a bit insulted - with a degree, expereince and skills that were worth more than the offer. I understand it's a small business and all, but I gotta live at least. I'm sure he was playing on my NEEDING a job so I turned it down, with no money in the bank. I felt I had to. I was really wanting that job too.
Well, kinda really because now I have got a job making more money than if I took that one and I can still do the barn work and ride, and whatever else freelance I have. I'm feeling much better and pretty much returned to normal me. Most days I work three jobs. It's much better than sulking. I say that because even though when in the height of misery I KNOW that it will get better but it doesn't just HAPPEN overnight. It takes time.
It has taken me a few months but I've gathered my marbles. I feel like I have survived a breakdown of some type. I feel like writing again but I have nothing to write about.
Where am I?
Well. I can tell you that the one thing I will ever remember about this summer is loosing my mind on a trip. In a tent. Mid-June. I thought I half way lost my mind until the manifestation of one BAD ASS case of strep throat that left me feeling physically weak and famished, full marble loss confimed with th
e addition of the twice devil "spirit" card. (I felt so shitty that for fun, I did a "mind, body, spirit" reading on myself in which I pulled the DEATH card as my "spirit" card-two weeks in a row.) How fitting. Thats how I felt. Like my spirit was DEAD.I realized, but all I could do was wait it out. I really thought about checking myself into the hospital because I was sure the thoughts I was having were NOT normal. But that would cost too much, so I concentrated on focusing on positive things. Even when the positive thought of the day was "I didn't feel like puking after that bite of food" my mantra was "It could be ALOT worse."
I got the tickets to the weekend concert "in part" because my ex-boyfriend was playing on Saturday afternoon. I say "in part" because I got the tickets for doing a 45+ hour illustration for a CD that was actually not the right art direction and never used. I'm fine with that, and thankful- although it ended up costing me more to go to this thing (even though the tickets were free) than I should have been spending. Lesson learned. While at the amazing concert I decided to make it really fun and that's when 5th Ave. did me in. I found the hippy with the shrooms and ate some - well, ate A LOT.
This was wrong for so many reasons so I'm going to fast forward past the part where I began to think the hippie boys were going to rape us, the violent vomiting outside the concert walls, the woman that offered me tissues and the sister-like friend with me- that couldn't do a thing (although trying) to comfort me, the desperation I felt while running back to the tent, past the part where my mind was convinced that I had just poisoned it with psilocybins and I'm dealing by telling myself to "try and calm down. to go with it. and relax." The problem was that as soon as that thought reached my cognitive thinking it was meant with a response something like "GGRRRRAAAAUUUGGGHHHNOOOoooooOOO!YOURALLALONE!!!MWwwwAaaaAHaHaaH." Lesson learned.
I go to the tent and dove inside, snapped into the fetal position under the sleeping bag and kept saying to myself "time. TIME. time. TIME". Eventually a series of giggles would come bubbling out, but a soon as I sat up it was a less than perfect idea.
My phone was dead I wanted to talk to the ex-bf who was somewhere backstage. All I wanted in the whole wide world at that point in time was to talk with him. I can honestly say with every given conviction inside me that I would have SERIOUSLY given up my next few breaths for a moment of comfort.
I know he's not my bf anymore, and he hasent been for 3 stinking years. The only way I can explain it is that after 5 years of together and almost 3 years apart I still felt like he is the only one that knows me inside and out. He's encouragement to me. He is honest-safe. He had promised me in the past that he would be there immediently if I was ever in trouble and I took it to heart. I guess I put too much into the past situation emotionally because when I finally facilitated to turn on the car to plug in my phone, to dial the number, to get him on the other end, I got laughed at. He thought I was alright, I guess, he told me to have fun and relax. although you don't often hear me say "ITSBAD.ITSBAD.ITSBADBADBADBADBAAAAAAAD." on the other end of the phone. Then my phone died completely and I COULDN'T. COULD NOT. get the motor skills together to plug it back in. Lesson learned.
I just knew at that moment when he said the phone cut out and he didn't know where I was, that it was the universe telling me to stop living in the past and to giddy-up. I anticipated a voice mail from him from after my phone died so suddenly but nothing. These were not the actions of the man I knew three years ago.
The saturn advice of the old haggard librarian came back to me once again....
"...because honey, one day he's not going to be around and then where will your library card be?" hah, well. His is on the main stage and mine, well it's still here in Youngstown right where he left it. (this is in no way, shape or form a blaming statment. I know that's possessively my problem)
I thought I was fine, I found out it was an emotional facade. I have that love, I know. But it's now in a little box with a bow rather than on my sleeve. No matter how much I miss it, or him. That's the way it has to be because that's the way things are.
I'm trying to work through what just happend on the phone and I look up to see my friend, my BELOVED friend sitting on top her car tripping - alone.
NOW I'm trying to work through the poison in my body, the phone call, and seeing her alone in that state feeling a bit shunned because of my requests for him. I'm sure and embarrased to say I was the one gung-ho for finding some shrooms, and now the emotions are REALLY of wack because I could not explain to her my reasons for wanting him and not her.
I survived the night to wake up feeling like I did something VERY wrong. I felt like something inside me schrivelled up and died. Got back home and had to deal with the job offer I got at this fabulous little advertising agency. I was really excited about it, until I got offered a wage comparable to and less than a tele-marketing position. I felt a bit insulted - with a degree, expereince and skills that were worth more than the offer. I understand it's a small business and all, but I gotta live at least. I'm sure he was playing on my NEEDING a job so I turned it down, with no money in the bank. I felt I had to. I was really wanting that job too.
Well, kinda really because now I have got a job making more money than if I took that one and I can still do the barn work and ride, and whatever else freelance I have. I'm feeling much better and pretty much returned to normal me. Most days I work three jobs. It's much better than sulking. I say that because even though when in the height of misery I KNOW that it will get better but it doesn't just HAPPEN overnight. It takes time.
It has taken me a few months but I've gathered my marbles. I feel like I have survived a breakdown of some type. I feel like writing again but I have nothing to write about.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Little girl passing time chasing catapillars around
On Saturday afternoon I went to see Melanie, Neal, Rachael, And Karen show their horses at a Hunter Jumper Schooling show.
Rachael McCall and Macintosh
The preperation for the horse show starts the night before when you do things such as, cleaning tack. That's horsie talk for: the thing on his head and in his mouth, the thing you sit in known as the saddle, and the other misc. things and straps that go along with the things. Takes approx. 1 hour. Bathing the horse, takes approx 1 hour. Loading the trailer with the horse at least once to make sure he'll do it in the morning, feed, hay, first aid kit, tack, and so on. Should take approx 3 hours by the time you remember everything and how the horse feels about getting into a big aluminum box.
One of the last things you should probaly do is braid the mane and tail because the less time the horse has to un-do those braids the better. This should take approx 50 minutes. It took me four hours. And it's not because I am the slowest person to tack up a horse. It's because as Mel said, "The first hour we accomplished nothing because Beckee and Christine kept arguing." OK so I thought I didn't need the internet directions. Hell, when I looked at them, they were telling me how to braid when I already know how to braid.-It was carved into my memory a while back (I think it came around the same time as cartwheels). The train started rollin as soon as I realized she found some secret encryption that explained how to tie it, and I figured out that the little comb I was using was actually a tool that seperates the braids into even chunks and three equal parts...ta-da! My first hunter braids on PJ!
Full view
Forelock
Close-Up
The next phase is waking up at 5:00am and getting to the barn, loading the horses and taking off to the show.
It's all pretty exciting...as long as you have 5-10 assorted periodicals, cell phones, hand held games, books, or anything else that will pass the time because to say that it consists of alot of waiting is like saying that a fraternity doesn't want free kegs of beer for life. That's what you do at a horse show. WAIT.
And if you're a parent, you give up tickets in hand to the Ohio State vs. Penn State game to sit and wait for 5-7 hours. Because an Ohio State victory is nothing compared to seeing your child win GRAND CHAMPION at the show. And that's totally awesome.
what Dads do at horse shows (look in the front seat).
What Moms do at horse shows
What kids do at horse shows
Then you get ready to wait some more. Here's Neal and Mel dressing to go into the ring. This photo is a perfect representation of Neal and Mel. They are really good friends and as soon as anyone teases them about getting married (which happens often) they instantly physically seperate from each other- and it's really funny. Sometimes I walk into the barn and announce "I'm coming in! you guys aren't making out I hope!". Mel gets way more fired up than Neal.
Mel checking her jacket and Neal goofing off.
Then you can go into the ring and school your horse...
Neal & Rocky
Then you watch other horses...
A neat "French Vanilla" colored horse with Blue eyes
A huge Bay I thought was pretty
And the waiting coninues until your class is called, or you have to leave because you have to go to work - thats why I did not get to stick around to see Mel and PJ get GRAND CHAMPION. I bet it was awesome! GREAT JOB MEL!! (and everyone else too!)
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
only costs 24-36 of the FRIGGEN BEST chocolate chip cookies in the world. EVER
Melanie just had her Senior photos taken and was telling me about the ridiculous price the photographer wanted to come to the barn. I know she really wanted to have some good photos of her and her boy PeeJay, so I opted to take a few (hundred). Here's a bit of what I shot...
By the way, I'm hire-able. And affordable.
This shoot only costs 24-36 of the FRIGGEN BEST chocolate chip cookies in the world. EVER. Made by Mel's mom.
And... I love this shot SO MUCH! SO "National Velvet" which Mel, nor her Mom- the woman that makes the FRIGGEN BEST chocolate chip cookies in the world. EVER. has seen! I know, can you believe it?! I mean it's NATIONAL VELVET!
By the way, I'm hire-able. And affordable.
This shoot only costs 24-36 of the FRIGGEN BEST chocolate chip cookies in the world. EVER. Made by Mel's mom.
And... I love this shot SO MUCH! SO "National Velvet" which Mel, nor her Mom- the woman that makes the FRIGGEN BEST chocolate chip cookies in the world. EVER. has seen! I know, can you believe it?! I mean it's NATIONAL VELVET!
Mutchie meets a puppy!
The two dogs in the photos of this post...the small ones, duh. Abbie and Pico. Remember I said "They're mad, rebellious, and getting horney."? Well, they did it. they did it alot. Abbie had nine puppies. I went over to my parents house see them, and take some photos. I took a puppy outside where Mutch has to stay because lil 15lb. Pico will try and give Mutch the business.
How cute it was. Mutch did his usual; sniff. sniff. ya, whatever.
Puppies are available. 1/4 Lhapso Apso and 3/4 Bishon. If you can spell those names you get a discount.
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