Since I already posted about Emily and her mad cake-decorating talents, I figured it would only be fair to idolize Charlotte on her golden pedestal. After all, she is my best friend, and she's been with me through some mad times.
So I was thinking about what to write about her, and I decided that she would be more of a challenge than Emily. I mean, yes, she's an amazing singer, but I already kind of went that route -- plus she confirmed that she would in fact not be participating in American Idol, since she was in fact boycotting it due to the previous season's results -- on the last blog. Plus, it's a proven fact that if put into a competition like that, she would 'bring home the gold.' So that leaves me with the problem of a topic. I mean, I guess I could tell our life story, beginning with a very pink children's castle and a few innocent play dates, but haven't we all heard that one before? No, I suppose not, but I have and let me tell you, it is not fit for most human ears (or eyes in this case.) Well, what is there then? Or is this entire post going to be about posting? No, I promise to spit something out, and it will be the most attractive thing one ever did spit! Actually, I'm feeling a future-dramatization coming on...
Or, rather, let's go back in time, to the days where life was simplified into a space the size of a pin-prick. Yes ladies and gents, you guessed it, our story begins in the womb, rather fitting of a story such as this, yes?
Implanted into the womb was a little egg, who's diameter was quite diminutive. Still though, this little egg caused so much havoc despite its tiny size, you couldn't even shake a stick at it! (Well I mean, you couldn't even if you wanted to, since it was so small you wouldn't be able to locate it unless you had a tracking device, and those things can be quite costly, if you know what I mean...)
This egg would roam around the womb, insulting various other wannabe fertilized eggs -- yes, I realize that the whole process of baby development is off here, but it's for the sake of the story -- on their outrages forms of dress, and the fact that their brains weren't developed yet. This little havoc-causin' egg was named CHILLY.
At this point in my future-but-currently-past dramatization, you may be thinking, 'uh, what?' and frankly, I don't blame you. I'm just making this up as I go along.
So Chilly would dart around all day, either laughing hysterically or causing the other eggs hardship and turmoil with her awesome powers. Not gonna lie, life so far was going pretty darn well for this little zygote. Good, that was, until...
Trouble struck! One day there was a massive earthquake inside the womb. Chilly just happened to be standing right smack-dab in the middle of the fault line, which probably wasn't the best situation. Screw cell division, Chilly was wrenched apart by the quake! As one side of her drifted down stream, crying for its lost half, the other half stood in shock at what had just happened (this part would later become Charlotte, who was contemplating 'how the HELL an earthquake could have happened in a womb?!')
Life was amiss for the two sides, one of which had stayed in the womb to mature, whereas the other had drifted down stream, hitch-hiked to Kanas City on the back of a four-wheeler, and made a living begging under a toe. Both of them went on living seperate lives, having no idea that one day they would again reconvene...
So this is kind of turning into a life story, but like no life story you've ever heard. Betcha can't say that your best friend and you were once one egg. Yeah. Thought not.
Of course, as fate would have it, they did meet again, and instantly attached to each other. They wondered where they got these super-human like telepathy powers, but since neither of them remembered their jaded past, they could not explain it.
[insert life story up until... 10 years from now.]
Assuming the Apocalypse did not come, and all those Myan's were just trying to screw us up, (and Lily's graduation party was not ruined by a massive meteor,) ten years down the road from now is where our actual story begins. Now I'll revert back to first-person, thank you very much.
I can feel myself in my London flat, clicking on the television for the second time that day, once after seeing Emily's cake, yadda yadda. I turn on the news to see what is going on, only to hear a familiar name. The caption will read:
'BREAKING NEWS! CHARLOTTE RADCLIFFE HAS JUST BROUGHT DOWN BOTH THE CIGARETTE COMPANIES AND THE REPUBLICAN'S, ALL IN ONE DAY! SUING THEM FOR ALL THEY'RE WORTH, SHE QUOTES, "THEY WERE PRACTICALLY DOWN ON THEIR KNEES, BEGGING FOR MY FORGIVENESS. I'VE ONLY SHOWN THEM WRATH."'
Yeah.
I'll scream a lot, and my husband, Jack Shephard will walk into the room to see if I'm alright. Then I'll grab the phone and invite Charlotte and Daniel over for dinner later. Should we say, 7?
So, moral of the story, don't mess with Charlotte when she is a high-powered lawyer with kick-ass debate skills. I mean, don't mess with her now. I'd say something sweet like, 'because you'll have to go through me first,' but truth be told, you might as well not even bother since you're just going to get, hm, what's the word? pwn'd, anyways.
But yes. Charlotte, I love you, and I'm so happy that you're my biffle. (:
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
future ace of cakes, yes?
My friends have talent. But seriously! I mean, Charlotte can sing like nobody's business, and Emily... well...
I know for a fact that Emily will go somewhere with her baking, because it is extraordinary! I hope that one day when I'm in my twenties, I'll be sitting at home with my great dane (yeah, an aspiration of mine,) and the food network will come on. I love the food network, by the way. If I only had to pick three channels, one of them would be the food network. But that's besides the point. So I'll be sitting in my London flat, (boy, this just gets more outrageous, yes?) and food network challenge will click on. That's a great program; I truly envy the people who can build these masterpieces in an eight hour day.
So I'll be watching this show, and all of a sudden, an all-grown-up Emily will appear, arms crossed, in front of the camera. She'll dub over the pathetic -- sorry! -- images of her turning around and smiling with something like:
"My name is Emily _____, I'm twenty-something years old, and I own _______ __ bakery in _______."
Okay, so there are a few little variables that need clarifying, but you get the gist.
Of course, by this point I'll be screaming and jumping up and down, shouting to no one in particular,
"OHMIGOSH I KNOW HER! SHE'S MY FRIEND! SHE'S MY FRIEND!"
Well, I'll probably already know about her food network escapade, because I'm sure we'll still be friends by then, but It will still shock me into a screaming, flailing mess. That's okay, because I'm sure by that point I've already been through that since Charlotte became the next American Idol.
I know for a fact that Emily will go somewhere with her baking, because it is extraordinary! I hope that one day when I'm in my twenties, I'll be sitting at home with my great dane (yeah, an aspiration of mine,) and the food network will come on. I love the food network, by the way. If I only had to pick three channels, one of them would be the food network. But that's besides the point. So I'll be sitting in my London flat, (boy, this just gets more outrageous, yes?) and food network challenge will click on. That's a great program; I truly envy the people who can build these masterpieces in an eight hour day.
So I'll be watching this show, and all of a sudden, an all-grown-up Emily will appear, arms crossed, in front of the camera. She'll dub over the pathetic -- sorry! -- images of her turning around and smiling with something like:
"My name is Emily _____,
Okay, so there are a few little variables that need clarifying, but you get the gist.
Of course, by this point I'll be screaming and jumping up and down, shouting to no one in particular,
"OHMIGOSH I KNOW HER! SHE'S MY FRIEND! SHE'S MY FRIEND!"
Well, I'll probably already know about her food network escapade, because I'm sure we'll still be friends by then, but It will still shock me into a screaming, flailing mess. That's okay, because I'm sure by that point I've already been through that since Charlotte became the next American Idol.
Check out some of her work!
well, only two, but still.
well, only two, but still.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
ABBA,
Has to be one of the best bands ever. I mean, they're amazing. They never fail to amaze me with their catchy lyrics and entertaining riffs.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
nothing to say
So, I'm thinking to myself: 'I need to blog.'
But at the same time, I'm thinking, 'not about the barn.'
Yeah, I did go out yesterday with Emily, and I could share my escapades, but since I just posted that horribly long post about my endeavors there, I figured I'd wait a little while. That way I could get some more pictures -- since the ones I took yesterday suck royally, all for good reason though -- and collect more interesting stories.
So the question remains, hmm, what to blog about?
I cannot think of a single thing.
I suppose that one should come into a blog post with some idea of what to write about, but right now, I have none. No idea whatsoever. All I can think about really, is writing about the stable, but like I said, not right now.
I just need some inspiration!
But at the same time, I'm thinking, 'not about the barn.'
Yeah, I did go out yesterday with Emily, and I could share my escapades, but since I just posted that horribly long post about my endeavors there, I figured I'd wait a little while. That way I could get some more pictures -- since the ones I took yesterday suck royally, all for good reason though -- and collect more interesting stories.
So the question remains, hmm, what to blog about?
I cannot think of a single thing.
I suppose that one should come into a blog post with some idea of what to write about, but right now, I have none. No idea whatsoever. All I can think about really, is writing about the stable, but like I said, not right now.
I just need some inspiration!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
memoirs from johnson's folly
Today was a great day. Yesterday, my mom lost her job, which is not so great, but I'm not going to go into great detail about that. Let's just say that this morning, to cheer her up, I took her out to breakfast, this place called John G's in Lake Worth. It's pretty good food -- their french toast is divine. It was nice, but that's not really the point. As we're driving up to breakfast, she suggests that we 'go see Nongae' after breakfast. Hold up, white girl say whaaat? Yeah, maybe some back-story to clarify?
Since I was literally a toddler, I've been riding horses. They've been my favorite animal since before I can even remember. My family has never had enough money to actually own one, but I've been hoppin' on them for quite a few years now -- technically, around twelve. When I was about, seven or eight, we found this wonderful stable, hidden behind a Tire Kingdom and a dead-end sign. It's the kind of place that you'd never guess was there unless you knew about it previously. I started off taking lessons on an old horse named Beau, who I'm sure to remember for the rest of my life. He was a sweet old-man horse with a swayed back and lots of grey hairs. Although he didn't go very fast -- it took a lot to get him going -- I remember riding in the circle ring (which is no longer there) one day when he took off on me. I was pretty scared, but I managed to stay on. When I got off, a little shaken, I recall Nongae, who is the owner of the barn, giving me a blue ribbon for managing to keep my seat. It probably wasn't the best memory I have of the place, but it's still nice to think about. As the years wore on, I stopped getting lessons, but Nongae was nice enough to let me ride for free. She's the nicest lady, I swear.
More? No, you're probably done, but I'm not! I'm just getting started!
So, over the years, I helped out a lot there. I find that more recently I'd rather just be around the horses than ride. I don't feel the need to hop on as much as I used to. True, I'm a little scared that I won't remember anything, but really, give me a curry comb and a horse, and I'm set! But yes, helping out. I did summer camp a few years, helping out with the tacking up, the brushing down, getting everything ready, helping the younger kids mount, etc. It was fun, and I found that while the kids took a break in the pool after their morning ride, I'd rather hang out around the barn.
Oh yeah, forgot to mention that. Nongae used to live on a house right on the premisis. Literally, it's about ten steps from the nearest horse paddock, and you can see the barn from her window, as well as all the rings. Now she moved, although she still owns the barn, just leases the house out. I've decided I want to live there, very badly.
But back to my story!
There was this stable hand, Mike, who used to work me to death. I slept over for a few days one summer, and was up early and in late. I loved it though, even though most of it was really manual labor. I fed, watered, groomed, shoveled, and rinsed every horse and every horse stall in that barn. It was a lot of fun, but very exhausting. See? I don't always dislike doing stuff!
Okay, but I'm skipping a really big part.
I used to bring a lot of my friends out to ride, all of which are no longer my friends. I kind of regret it now, but oh well. Once, when I was riding a while ago, Nongae, who was my instructor, told me to go fetch this horse, 'Miss' out of the paddock. I don't think I'd ever done this before -- but when I helped out over the summers, I think I turned out and brought in more horses than I could count -- but apparently she had confidence in me. I was a little scared, since Miss was no small horse, and the paddock she was in happened to be laced with electric fencing. Now, I've never been afraid of horses, and since they can sense it, I try to conceal it when I am a little nervous. I'm sure that I was nervoud when I went to get her, but it was more out of excitment.
Alright, more back story, yay!
Miss America, or Miss for short, is about 16.3 hands, which is pretty large. Let's just put it into perspective, I cannot see over her back unless I stand on my tippie toes, and even then just barely. She's a beautiful bay hanoverian, and a third-level dressage horse, I do believe worth about sixty grand.
Okay, so I get into the paddock with little trouble, not bothering/knowing to turn off the electric fence. It's not very big, just a strip along the top of the fence to discourage any rowdy horses from escaping, but it sill packs a pretty powerful punch. Can you see where this is going? So Miss's lead rope had metal connecting to her halter, which eventually fed into the regular material. As I'm getting her ready, trying to prop open the fence, not let her escape, and put on her halter, she brushes against the fencing. I guess it was my fault, since I should have been more coordinated, but it happened. So naturally, she flipped out, and spooked a little, doing the typical wild-eyed, head raised, flaring nostril thing that is characteristic of a scared horse. I was hurting too, since the shock she had recieved had transfered to my hands via the metal in her lead rope. Still, my hands numb and tingling, my mind in flip-out mode, I managed to calm her down.
That was the first experience I ever had with Miss.
After that, I fell in love with her. I'm not sure why, but I just did. These things happen I guess. It's kind of embarassing now, but after my first ride, I timidly asked Nongae if I could 'half own' her, or more take care of her: y'know, brush her down, etc etc. Nongae said yes, and I was very very happy. I'd never had a horse, and even half of one was better than nothing! (Of course, my asshole friends had to ruin it for me in fourth or fifth grade, telling me that she was just lying to make me feel better, but to this day my mom still says she was serious. I've decided to believe my mother.)
So, I developed a love for Miss. I was very jealous when other people rode her, but I knew that she still loved me (or I assumed, whatever.) I called her 'Mooch' for a petname, and taught her a neat little trick. Whilst grooming, I'd go around to her front -- when I was much shorter, I'm sure it wouldn't work as well now -- and sweetly command, "kiss" over and over until she lowered her head and allowed me to kiss her on her star. It was a cute little thing, and I wonder if she still remembers it. Unfortunatley, she wasn't the friendliest animal. Apparently her previous owners had abused her, making her slightly recalcatrent and cold. Sometimes she'd be affectionate though, but I would have loved her even if she never was.
Is this sounding creepy? I mean, by love, like, the kind of love that your dog or cat gets, innocent little animal love. Well, bigger animal in this case, but whatever.
But although she was perfect to me, ground manner wise, she was, uhh, not too great in saddle. Well, you'd kind of think that she'd be a pretty good ride since she was a high-level dressage horse. That's a lie. Don't get me wrong, 98% of the time, she was a good girl, a little pokey at times, but still good. Still, she had her vices.
For one, she turned on a dime. This isn't the best thing, but I was so proud when I managed to cure her of it! Seriously, I'm not lying, it was pretty much me who stopped her from doing that. I'm sure she picked it back up again when I wasn't around for a little, but with me, she rarely ever did it, because I didn't tolerate it.
Also, she liked to run. I remember once when I was being taught a lesson by this girl, who was a pretty good rider herself, we were jumping. Simple stuff, really, trot over, and then pick up a canter as you land. They weren't huge jumps, not at all, but still managing to push the horses to canter afterwards. So, I went over a few times, and started cantering, just like I was supposed to. Maybe like, the third time I went over, cantering like I was supposed to, that's when it happened. Everything was good until I tried to slow down. Yeah, Miss wouldn't stop. So me, I'm not really used to riding like this, and although I could ride, It's not like I was world class. So Miss takes off on me, and we're cantering around, me trying to steer her away from the higher jumps, lest I fall off and break my neck, and then, she breaks into a gallop. I'd never galloped before, and I didn't even know how to sit for a gallop. It's not really the kind of thing you do every day. Racehorses gallop, kay? So, I'm hauling major ass, trying to stay on, as I cannot stop Miss for the love of me. This one woman who was also riding in the ring dismounts for her own safety, so what was happening wasn't exactly... safe? But eventually, I managed to slow her down, and get off, shaking. My mom as well as everyone who was watching kept saying, "I thought you were going to fall off, or she was going to go over a jump, or you were going to die."
All in all though, I think that it was pretty fun. Scary as hell, yeah, but really a lot of fun if I think about it.
Now Miss doesn't jump anymore. ):
But before we get into that!
Nongae decided to breed Miss. I don't recall why, but I'm sure it had something to do with lineage and such. She was artifically inseminated, and the first two times it didn't work, but eventually it took. I think Nongae was planning to use her as a broodmare, but that never panned out. After her first baby, Nongae admitted that, 'I didn't want to go through that again, and neither did she.' I remember asking my mom frantically if I could sleep over the night she was due, and be with her when the baby was born, but that never worked out either. I teared up a little when we pulled up to the barn after a month or two of not going, and my mom says, "look who's in the paddock?" where I responded, "Miss..." and she goes, "look who's with her."
Although Fina -- that's what they named her -- is much bigger now. She looks like a smaller version of her mom.
But anyways, I kind of stopped going out there. I think the last day I went was the day before 8th grade or something, and I hadn't been since. Truth be told, I was a little afraid to go. I thought that the more time that passed, the more different everything would be. I was sure that the barn would have morphed into this unrecognizable place that I could no longer relate with. I was scared that the people would be different, that the horses would have come and gone, and that I would get guilt-tripped by people saying, 'where've you been?!'
Happily, it was not like that at all.
Today, for the first time in over two years, I went back to the barn. My mom called Nongae to ask if she was around, and so we headed out there after a quick stoll down Worth Ave. I have to admit, I was still a little nervous about going, but I was more open to the idea than I'd ever been. As we pulled down the pot-holed drive leading up to the gates, I felt my butterflies calm down a little. It didn't look that different, which took a worry off my shoulders. The barn was always very relaxing to me anyways. I remember sitting on Miss, walking through the trails and just talking to her, and having her listen to me. There's something very zen about that.
So we park, and get out of the car, seeing Nongae heading towards the back ring. We walk over there to be greeted by this woman Ellen, who I vaugley remembered, and Nongae, who'd just mounted. She greeted us like we'd just been there yesterday, aside from pointing out how much I'd grown, and told us to do whatever we liked. Of course, I went to Miss first, and something in me told me that even though it had been a while, she still remembered me.
Norma, Nongae's daughter, told me that Miss had almost died a year ago from a bad case of colic. She'd been operated on and it had come back, but then it magically disappeared. I shudder thinking about how crushed I would have been if today I went out, only to find that she had passed away. Let's not think about it.
There were a lot of different horses, but still some framiliar faces. I didn't really care other than Miss though, since it was like seeing an old friend. We walked around and said 'hi' to the other horses though, and it was a little sad, but I was glad that we'd finally come out. Naturally, I spent a lot of time coaxing Miss to come towards me, and I gave her a pretty long butt rub towards the end of our visit. It was probably then that I vowed to come out more, because looking out of the barn, I realized that it felt like I hadn't been gone for two years.
When Nongae came in from her ride, I admitted to her that I felt guilty I hadn't been out, to which she replied, "don't feel guilty unless you're out here and doing nothing," which is totally true.
Oh! Also, as we were walking back, and Ellen was introducing me & my mother to some new faces at the barn, (well, new to us since our last visit was long overdue) she introduced me as, "Lily, she used to ride Miss a lot." It made me really happy that I was remembered for that, because really, nothing else I'd rather be remembered for.
As we were driving home, I also realized that, aside from Nongae, we've been going there the longest out of anyone who boards their horses there. That's pretty amazing, if I do say so myself.
Next time I go, I'll bring my camera. Oh yes, and there will be a next time, now I'm quite excited to 'get back on the horse,' if you pardon the pun. (;
Since I was literally a toddler, I've been riding horses. They've been my favorite animal since before I can even remember. My family has never had enough money to actually own one, but I've been hoppin' on them for quite a few years now -- technically, around twelve. When I was about, seven or eight, we found this wonderful stable, hidden behind a Tire Kingdom and a dead-end sign. It's the kind of place that you'd never guess was there unless you knew about it previously. I started off taking lessons on an old horse named Beau, who I'm sure to remember for the rest of my life. He was a sweet old-man horse with a swayed back and lots of grey hairs. Although he didn't go very fast -- it took a lot to get him going -- I remember riding in the circle ring (which is no longer there) one day when he took off on me. I was pretty scared, but I managed to stay on. When I got off, a little shaken, I recall Nongae, who is the owner of the barn, giving me a blue ribbon for managing to keep my seat. It probably wasn't the best memory I have of the place, but it's still nice to think about. As the years wore on, I stopped getting lessons, but Nongae was nice enough to let me ride for free. She's the nicest lady, I swear.
More? No, you're probably done, but I'm not! I'm just getting started!
So, over the years, I helped out a lot there. I find that more recently I'd rather just be around the horses than ride. I don't feel the need to hop on as much as I used to. True, I'm a little scared that I won't remember anything, but really, give me a curry comb and a horse, and I'm set! But yes, helping out. I did summer camp a few years, helping out with the tacking up, the brushing down, getting everything ready, helping the younger kids mount, etc. It was fun, and I found that while the kids took a break in the pool after their morning ride, I'd rather hang out around the barn.
Oh yeah, forgot to mention that. Nongae used to live on a house right on the premisis. Literally, it's about ten steps from the nearest horse paddock, and you can see the barn from her window, as well as all the rings. Now she moved, although she still owns the barn, just leases the house out. I've decided I want to live there, very badly.
But back to my story!
There was this stable hand, Mike, who used to work me to death. I slept over for a few days one summer, and was up early and in late. I loved it though, even though most of it was really manual labor. I fed, watered, groomed, shoveled, and rinsed every horse and every horse stall in that barn. It was a lot of fun, but very exhausting. See? I don't always dislike doing stuff!
Okay, but I'm skipping a really big part.
I used to bring a lot of my friends out to ride, all of which are no longer my friends. I kind of regret it now, but oh well. Once, when I was riding a while ago, Nongae, who was my instructor, told me to go fetch this horse, 'Miss' out of the paddock. I don't think I'd ever done this before -- but when I helped out over the summers, I think I turned out and brought in more horses than I could count -- but apparently she had confidence in me. I was a little scared, since Miss was no small horse, and the paddock she was in happened to be laced with electric fencing. Now, I've never been afraid of horses, and since they can sense it, I try to conceal it when I am a little nervous. I'm sure that I was nervoud when I went to get her, but it was more out of excitment.
Alright, more back story, yay!
Miss America, or Miss for short, is about 16.3 hands, which is pretty large. Let's just put it into perspective, I cannot see over her back unless I stand on my tippie toes, and even then just barely. She's a beautiful bay hanoverian, and a third-level dressage horse, I do believe worth about sixty grand.
Okay, so I get into the paddock with little trouble, not bothering/knowing to turn off the electric fence. It's not very big, just a strip along the top of the fence to discourage any rowdy horses from escaping, but it sill packs a pretty powerful punch. Can you see where this is going? So Miss's lead rope had metal connecting to her halter, which eventually fed into the regular material. As I'm getting her ready, trying to prop open the fence, not let her escape, and put on her halter, she brushes against the fencing. I guess it was my fault, since I should have been more coordinated, but it happened. So naturally, she flipped out, and spooked a little, doing the typical wild-eyed, head raised, flaring nostril thing that is characteristic of a scared horse. I was hurting too, since the shock she had recieved had transfered to my hands via the metal in her lead rope. Still, my hands numb and tingling, my mind in flip-out mode, I managed to calm her down.
That was the first experience I ever had with Miss.
After that, I fell in love with her. I'm not sure why, but I just did. These things happen I guess. It's kind of embarassing now, but after my first ride, I timidly asked Nongae if I could 'half own' her, or more take care of her: y'know, brush her down, etc etc. Nongae said yes, and I was very very happy. I'd never had a horse, and even half of one was better than nothing! (Of course, my asshole friends had to ruin it for me in fourth or fifth grade, telling me that she was just lying to make me feel better, but to this day my mom still says she was serious. I've decided to believe my mother.)
So, I developed a love for Miss. I was very jealous when other people rode her, but I knew that she still loved me (or I assumed, whatever.) I called her 'Mooch' for a petname, and taught her a neat little trick. Whilst grooming, I'd go around to her front -- when I was much shorter, I'm sure it wouldn't work as well now -- and sweetly command, "kiss" over and over until she lowered her head and allowed me to kiss her on her star. It was a cute little thing, and I wonder if she still remembers it. Unfortunatley, she wasn't the friendliest animal. Apparently her previous owners had abused her, making her slightly recalcatrent and cold. Sometimes she'd be affectionate though, but I would have loved her even if she never was.
Is this sounding creepy? I mean, by love, like, the kind of love that your dog or cat gets, innocent little animal love. Well, bigger animal in this case, but whatever.
But although she was perfect to me, ground manner wise, she was, uhh, not too great in saddle. Well, you'd kind of think that she'd be a pretty good ride since she was a high-level dressage horse. That's a lie. Don't get me wrong, 98% of the time, she was a good girl, a little pokey at times, but still good. Still, she had her vices.
For one, she turned on a dime. This isn't the best thing, but I was so proud when I managed to cure her of it! Seriously, I'm not lying, it was pretty much me who stopped her from doing that. I'm sure she picked it back up again when I wasn't around for a little, but with me, she rarely ever did it, because I didn't tolerate it.
Also, she liked to run. I remember once when I was being taught a lesson by this girl, who was a pretty good rider herself, we were jumping. Simple stuff, really, trot over, and then pick up a canter as you land. They weren't huge jumps, not at all, but still managing to push the horses to canter afterwards. So, I went over a few times, and started cantering, just like I was supposed to. Maybe like, the third time I went over, cantering like I was supposed to, that's when it happened. Everything was good until I tried to slow down. Yeah, Miss wouldn't stop. So me, I'm not really used to riding like this, and although I could ride, It's not like I was world class. So Miss takes off on me, and we're cantering around, me trying to steer her away from the higher jumps, lest I fall off and break my neck, and then, she breaks into a gallop. I'd never galloped before, and I didn't even know how to sit for a gallop. It's not really the kind of thing you do every day. Racehorses gallop, kay? So, I'm hauling major ass, trying to stay on, as I cannot stop Miss for the love of me. This one woman who was also riding in the ring dismounts for her own safety, so what was happening wasn't exactly... safe? But eventually, I managed to slow her down, and get off, shaking. My mom as well as everyone who was watching kept saying, "I thought you were going to fall off, or she was going to go over a jump, or you were going to die."
All in all though, I think that it was pretty fun. Scary as hell, yeah, but really a lot of fun if I think about it.
Now Miss doesn't jump anymore. ):
But before we get into that!
Nongae decided to breed Miss. I don't recall why, but I'm sure it had something to do with lineage and such. She was artifically inseminated, and the first two times it didn't work, but eventually it took. I think Nongae was planning to use her as a broodmare, but that never panned out. After her first baby, Nongae admitted that, 'I didn't want to go through that again, and neither did she.' I remember asking my mom frantically if I could sleep over the night she was due, and be with her when the baby was born, but that never worked out either. I teared up a little when we pulled up to the barn after a month or two of not going, and my mom says, "look who's in the paddock?" where I responded, "Miss..." and she goes, "look who's with her."
Although Fina -- that's what they named her -- is much bigger now. She looks like a smaller version of her mom.
But anyways, I kind of stopped going out there. I think the last day I went was the day before 8th grade or something, and I hadn't been since. Truth be told, I was a little afraid to go. I thought that the more time that passed, the more different everything would be. I was sure that the barn would have morphed into this unrecognizable place that I could no longer relate with. I was scared that the people would be different, that the horses would have come and gone, and that I would get guilt-tripped by people saying, 'where've you been?!'
Happily, it was not like that at all.
Today, for the first time in over two years, I went back to the barn. My mom called Nongae to ask if she was around, and so we headed out there after a quick stoll down Worth Ave. I have to admit, I was still a little nervous about going, but I was more open to the idea than I'd ever been. As we pulled down the pot-holed drive leading up to the gates, I felt my butterflies calm down a little. It didn't look that different, which took a worry off my shoulders. The barn was always very relaxing to me anyways. I remember sitting on Miss, walking through the trails and just talking to her, and having her listen to me. There's something very zen about that.
So we park, and get out of the car, seeing Nongae heading towards the back ring. We walk over there to be greeted by this woman Ellen, who I vaugley remembered, and Nongae, who'd just mounted. She greeted us like we'd just been there yesterday, aside from pointing out how much I'd grown, and told us to do whatever we liked. Of course, I went to Miss first, and something in me told me that even though it had been a while, she still remembered me.
Norma, Nongae's daughter, told me that Miss had almost died a year ago from a bad case of colic. She'd been operated on and it had come back, but then it magically disappeared. I shudder thinking about how crushed I would have been if today I went out, only to find that she had passed away. Let's not think about it.
There were a lot of different horses, but still some framiliar faces. I didn't really care other than Miss though, since it was like seeing an old friend. We walked around and said 'hi' to the other horses though, and it was a little sad, but I was glad that we'd finally come out. Naturally, I spent a lot of time coaxing Miss to come towards me, and I gave her a pretty long butt rub towards the end of our visit. It was probably then that I vowed to come out more, because looking out of the barn, I realized that it felt like I hadn't been gone for two years.
When Nongae came in from her ride, I admitted to her that I felt guilty I hadn't been out, to which she replied, "don't feel guilty unless you're out here and doing nothing," which is totally true.
Oh! Also, as we were walking back, and Ellen was introducing me & my mother to some new faces at the barn, (well, new to us since our last visit was long overdue) she introduced me as, "Lily, she used to ride Miss a lot." It made me really happy that I was remembered for that, because really, nothing else I'd rather be remembered for.
As we were driving home, I also realized that, aside from Nongae, we've been going there the longest out of anyone who boards their horses there. That's pretty amazing, if I do say so myself.
Next time I go, I'll bring my camera. Oh yes, and there will be a next time, now I'm quite excited to 'get back on the horse,' if you pardon the pun. (;
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
my bed, the disaster area
Hi, my name is Lily, and I'm a procrastinator.
If for some reason the definition of 'procrastinator' escapes you, then let me refresh your memory.
A procrastinator is pretty much someone who, when faced with tasks, puts them off until the last possible moment. Whether it's school work, -- that's never a lovely scenario, completing your three hundred point French project, 10pm the day before it's due -- chores, or things like, oh, I don't know, making a bed? They'll be put off until the absolute last minute, kapish?
But about the bed...
Alright, let me give myself some credit here, my bed is a complex animal. In the world of furniture, my bed would probably amount to a cabbybearra with the digestive track of a platypus. It's very much like an onion, albeit a large, fluffy, comfortable onion, but an onion nonetheless. There are about, five different layers that make up my bed, all which need tweaking pretty regularly. And here comes the procrastination part! Let's just say that it takes a lot of work to maintain. A loooooot of work. Occasionally I'll find myself up in the morning, twisted in blankets I didn't even know I had. I'll feel a lump at my feet that wasn't there last night, and I am lying on the feather comforter, which is supposed to lurk beneath my regular comforter.
It is times like these when I know I'll need to re-make my bed.
But of course, being myself, I'll put this off until the last minute, usually five minutes before I go to sleep. For the rest of the time? Oh, I just lay on my absurdly dirty comforter and think about how I should be replacing everything in its natural habitat again. Right now, my onion is a scrambled mess, and my cappyberra/platypus hybrid thing is looking more and more like a pokemon reject.
Uhm, notice the bra? Yeahh.
Detail of my scary, once-was Ralph Lauren, now is horror from black lagoon feather bed. For the most part, it stays hidden beneath my nice, soft pink comforter. I never lay on this thing unless it's an absolute emergency.
If for some reason the definition of 'procrastinator' escapes you, then let me refresh your memory.
A procrastinator is pretty much someone who, when faced with tasks, puts them off until the last possible moment. Whether it's school work, -- that's never a lovely scenario, completing your three hundred point French project, 10pm the day before it's due -- chores, or things like, oh, I don't know, making a bed? They'll be put off until the absolute last minute, kapish?
But about the bed...
Alright, let me give myself some credit here, my bed is a complex animal. In the world of furniture, my bed would probably amount to a cabbybearra with the digestive track of a platypus. It's very much like an onion, albeit a large, fluffy, comfortable onion, but an onion nonetheless. There are about, five different layers that make up my bed, all which need tweaking pretty regularly. And here comes the procrastination part! Let's just say that it takes a lot of work to maintain. A loooooot of work. Occasionally I'll find myself up in the morning, twisted in blankets I didn't even know I had. I'll feel a lump at my feet that wasn't there last night, and I am lying on the feather comforter, which is supposed to lurk beneath my regular comforter.
It is times like these when I know I'll need to re-make my bed.
But of course, being myself, I'll put this off until the last minute, usually five minutes before I go to sleep. For the rest of the time? Oh, I just lay on my absurdly dirty comforter and think about how I should be replacing everything in its natural habitat again. Right now, my onion is a scrambled mess, and my cappyberra/platypus hybrid thing is looking more and more like a pokemon reject.
Uhm, notice the bra? Yeahh. 
Detail of my scary, once-was Ralph Lauren, now is horror from black lagoon feather bed. For the most part, it stays hidden beneath my nice, soft pink comforter. I never lay on this thing unless it's an absolute emergency.Alright, off to not make my bed! (;
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
do you know what i love?
(Besides talking to Charlotte on the telephone (;)
Clothes that smell good!
Like, the best is when you get clothing from people, and it smells divine! Sometimes I get stuck with the old smelly clothes, but occasionally I'll get lucky enough to acquire a shirt that smells like pure heaven, such as the one I'm wearing right now. I really wish that clothes came with little tags that updated after every wash, telling you what detergent was last used, because it would save a lot of time and energy spent waltzing down the cleaning isle, sniffing at every brand of Downy and Tide there is.
...Actually, come to think of it, my shirt kind of smells like my grandpa. I'm not really sure if that's good or bad.
Oh well!
Clothes that smell good!
Like, the best is when you get clothing from people, and it smells divine! Sometimes I get stuck with the old smelly clothes, but occasionally I'll get lucky enough to acquire a shirt that smells like pure heaven, such as the one I'm wearing right now. I really wish that clothes came with little tags that updated after every wash, telling you what detergent was last used, because it would save a lot of time and energy spent waltzing down the cleaning isle, sniffing at every brand of Downy and Tide there is.
...Actually, come to think of it, my shirt kind of smells like my grandpa. I'm not really sure if that's good or bad. Oh well!
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
happy happy 4th
Even though I'm a day late! Dang!
Well, no way I was uploading them last night, that's for sure. I got home around 10-ish from my Aunt's house, and I was wiped! There are so many bugs in the summertime, not to mention the heat, which makes it nearly unbearable to be outside (not to mention tiring, gee wizz!) But it was great fun, our own little fireworks show! Since I was in London last year around this time, I didn't get to celebrate. I forgot how much I missed independence day!
Oh yeah, I took some pictures of the fireworks, even though they're more abstract than anything. It's really hard photographing them!
Well, no way I was uploading them last night, that's for sure. I got home around 10-ish from my Aunt's house, and I was wiped! There are so many bugs in the summertime, not to mention the heat, which makes it nearly unbearable to be outside (not to mention tiring, gee wizz!) But it was great fun, our own little fireworks show! Since I was in London last year around this time, I didn't get to celebrate. I forgot how much I missed independence day!
Oh yeah, I took some pictures of the fireworks, even though they're more abstract than anything. It's really hard photographing them!
(You know what else is hard photographing? My little brother, he never stands still!)
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