Heavy heart for the holidays

Holy shit fuck batman! I've only posted 30 blogs this year in comparison to last year's 73. There is only one lame ass excuse for this blatant laziness. I've gone and fallen in love. While it isn't perfect (or even a year old yet), it seems to be going well, or at least as well as any other disaster can go. But I've made a commitment not to blog about the relationship here and I'm sticking to it. Also on this list of new things are monogamy and church. There are moments when my dreams are littered with the days of living the single lifestyle and a secret longing for it; and more cats.

So, if I'm blissfully madly and deeply in love, why the fuck do I have such a heavy heart? Same shit different year, really. If I blog about work it's the same shit different day song. The horses; well really? Even I know as a writer how hard up I am for material when I blog about the boring horses. But family; especially the dysfunctional three ringed circus I come from, well now.... that's good blog fodder.

I wonder if it would bother me so much if his family wasn't so perfect. I mean they get along. They don't go for months or even years without speaking and no one in the immediate realm is estranged. This is so outside my norm.

I have been a grumpy pout butt lately, and learning that SD is moving to the other coast and his girlfriend following stings a bit. Then there is Pimpett and Hubby who I've heard nothing from. And Sorority sister who only called me two weeks before her wedding to see if she could have back the wedding dress that she gave me. Oh, and SSRT de friended me on facebook. An old client of mine is getting married, and it all just makes me think where the fuck is my life going.

Enter stage left: The Holidays. Ok, fuck you. Every year I feel like I get hit by a truck so this year I'm going to be smoking more pot, drinking more booze and getting back on my meds. Fuck it. If I'm going to have a cocktail party, I'm going to have a COCKTAIL party. I'd like to think I'm taking a preemptive strike here to beat out the holiday blah's but no, they still managed to bite me in the ass.

I think maybe it was triggered by his perfect family extending a holiday invitation to my not so perfect family. Would my mom go? Would she bring my brother? How about my anti social aunt? Should I invite my sister even though hell would freeze over before she came? What about my dad? Christ I'm a selfish asshole sitting here wondering about my family and what they're going to do for the holidays. Some people don't even have homes or food or heat. Forget a fucking holiday.

And then the dream:

It's Thanksgiving and we're all at my boyfriend's parent's house to eat. We're eating off of a robin egg's blue china with a thin gold rim. My mother has brought pumpernickel bread and we have toasted it. There at the end of the table lined up from left to right sat my dad, my brother and my sister. They turned and smiled at me as I served them their bread.

Later that morning I was off to the Dr's office because it was time to put the goalie back in. As I'm waiting to have my annual and learn how far my HPV has progressed I started to think about my dream.

My eyes buffed up and my vision became blurry. As I wiped away the tears and choked back a scream I wondered if that would be the only time I'd see my family this holiday season.

Pitty Party

So late at night and alone with my thoughts can be an especially dangerous place if I'm exhausted because I've worked a lot of overtime in the past week. There seems to be no light at the end of this tunnel as we found out in order to save the house we need nearly 20K by Sept 24th. It's all that looms on my mind. I'm not even working all this overtime for a fun goal. It's not even my bill, but I still haven't gotten mad at him.
I got a phone call from a girlfriend about to get married. When she met my boyfriend in a drunken stupor she gave me a wedding dress. Beautiful thing. Tried to sell it on Craig's list for money for the house. Well, I got a phone call and she needs it back because the dress she ordered won't be in on time and she hates to be an Indian giver, and she doesn't want to go out and spend $500 on another dress to wear that day. And of course this now has my wheels turning.
I'll admit more than I'm bummed out that all of my girlfriends are getting married, is the fact that I haven't been invited to a single wedding. So here comes the pitty party....

Am I that old? That bitter that I can't be fun at a wedding?
I remember the last one I got invited to. I was seated at the singles table. When I looked around me all I saw was a bunch of fat chicks or really old, and a crazy cat lady. I thought " I sure as shit don't belong here." I felt like the pitty invite. An afterthought. I thought I have too much to give not to be with someone, and there is this sinking doubt in my mind that no matter how hard I bust my ass and give my all, the only thing I'll get in the end is alone.

Girl Talk

There is nothing better than a buddy. Even better when that buddy is into horses and you can sit and vent about all the equine frustrations of your life and actually have someone understand what you are saying. Now add a little alcohol and you have for an interesting night.

I'm nicknaming her Topless because she had a horse named Duckie and changed it to Oliver. In the process of changing his name I said she should keep it Duckie and let his show name be What the Duck. Well, my boyfriend thought Topless would be better. For shows, "And in first place riding Topless..."

The plan was simple. Look hot so guys would buy us drinks. I warned her I've been gaining weight so my boobs are pretty big. I agreed to put them in the window. She couldn't believe how big they were. So we hit the bars last night in my old romping stomping ground.

We started at the local Irish bar because she wanted to hear a brogue. While there I saw someone I knew from my really crazy days ie senior year of high school. Sent the poor boy running and he had every right to haul ass away from this shit show. Yikes what a train wreck I was as a teenager. He didn't say hi and neither did I because I wasn't sure if he wanted me to. Some guy ordered us a round and then didn't pay for them. But it got even better when the conversation turned to transgendered persons and whether or not it was ok. He told a story of how a friend of his picked up a "female" hitch hiker and got a blow job. They decided to go to a hotel to have a little more fun. When the woman pulled out her dick, the guy shot her. Hi, my name is Michelle and I'm out to have fun tonight; not debate the ethics and rights of transgendered individuals, and if this is your way of propositioning for a blow job then your game needs work.

Then I took her to the city's best kept secret. A small little out of the way hole in the wall kind of a bar. It wasn't crowded and you could actually hear one another inside. Topless was tickled pink to learn that they had Shafer on tap for a $1.50. That's my girl.

Now she wanted to go to a bar that I am not a fan of. However, I believe live and learn so off we went to Stash's. A young crowd of drunken fools was to be found inside along with a few more familiar faces. And I was lucky enough to run into one of my favorite bar tenders. Guy from New Orleans. Tough nut, but can be gentle as a pussy cat. His persona is one that says don't fuck with me, and it's well respected around town.

In the process of hanging out with Topless I was reliving the glory days of slutting it up. Part of me misses the old days when if you slept with one guy from New London you slept with half the city. I explained to Topless it was like a collection and New Orleans was the missing piece. The last man standing if you will and for which I am grateful. I don't think every stone needs turning in this case.

We also ran into another one of my victims. Poor bastard. Always kinda had the deer in the head lights look. I explained it was really weird because he didn't come. Topless in her sage advice said he looks like the type not to come at all. She might just be right.

The evening continued and led into shots. Now when one says they want something light I assumed they meant clear liquor and not dark liquor; not a sissy shot. So, lemon drops it was. The night started to get rough. We decided to call my boyfriend.

Well since I don't have to drive let's have more shots. Bad idea. Topless really started to earn her nickname when she started to lift her shirt and show how she could fit her whole hand inside the cup of her bra.

It was like my night in shining armor showing up in F-350. His diesel engine was the most comforting sound when completely shit faced. Up we piled into his truck were Topless continued in her antics and showed off her tattoo. Better yet we found out how freaky she really is. The swaying motion of the kidney rocker did nothing to reduce my desire to throw up so about half way home I let lose all those lemon drops.

It ended the next day when I had to ask my mom for a ride to go get my car. She was not happy to learn that I had gotten that drunk. Icing on the cake. Topless also had to do the walk of shame in front of my mother because she forgot her i-Touch in my car.

I'm grateful I can go out and have a wild night, but only once in a while.

Closing up the cliffhanger

Thank you ever faithful SD for pointing out I left everyone hanging. What a writer jackass move to do. Like I said the relationship doesn't belong here, but here's something that does; the economy and it's personal effect on the individual. Sweet Jesus I didn't realize how bad it was.

For the record:
Yes, I feel alone
Yes, I am embarrassed
Yes, I am terrified

Then the startling reality that I might lose the roof over my head came to a stark reality the last day of vacation. FORECLOSURE. A really ugly "f" word.

We sat in court waiting and waiting and waiting; watching and listening to each case before us. It was more heart breaking than divorce court. A few people had gotten caught up in some scam to save their house. Others were turned upside down in the mortgage by 100's of thousands of dollars. One woman swore up and down that the house was refinanced through another bank, but could not get the paperwork to prove it because when the bank she refinanced with was bought out; the original bank destroyed the paperwork.

Finally the moment of truth comes for us. We stand before the judge and a date is set to come up with an unknown amount of money. January 3rd is when my personal apocalypse comes.

bits and pieces

It's a potpourri sort of blog with random thoughts. If you thought I was manic you might call this racing thoughts. Vroom, vroom. Good luck keeping up.

The horses: Well, I got the email from Taya's owner asking for a decision about what I'm going to do. Considering the recent financial struggles it would be very selfish of me to continue my lease. However, as Fraulein Maria says "When God closes a door, he always opens a window somewhere" I have been lucky enough to be standing in the same room as the door and the window. The new horse which is now in New Hampshire because he was adopted was a short lived affair. However, three people have recommended me to this one woman who has a horse that needs to be exercised. My fingers are crossed that it's just that and not a lead into a lease. Only time will tell.

Work: Nurse Mc Cunty keeps me in stitches as she talks about her weight loss plan which includes jogging and a breast reduction. But the best bit of drama is the ultimate set up. I told work 9 days prior to my vacation that I was still on the schedule. I told the nurse manager, the scheduling person, the director of nursing [the nurse manager's boss] and my union delegate. I come home from vacation to get a voice mail telling me they were looking for me. So, please, please try and fire me. Considering the shift supervisor didn't speak to me tonight I figure that's the direction they are heading in.

Money: I can't even start. Relationship: Doesn't belong on this blog, but I wish I had someone to talk to about it.

Vacation: AWESOME!!!! It was amazing to see my 80 something year old grandmother. I'd forgotten how impressive South Dakota was. It was my first road trip as an adult for more than eight hours to reach our destination. It was worth it. I'm so happy I got to see so much of the country. We stopped in Chicago for a night and while we missed out on the Red Head Piano Bar, the history museum was lovely. Tons of pictures for a scrap book I can't wait to start working on.

Oh, one more dippy thing I managed to do: lose my phone. I pay for insurance but the deductible is 89.99 for a phone I paid 50 for. Can we say bad math? Oh, well. What the fuck am I going to do about it? More like, what can I do about it? NOTHING!

Ok, next blog..... random thoughts I'd really like to put up on facebook

Old Perfume

Tonight as I was leaving for work there was a smidge of a hangover going on, so I spritzed some old stink on me from the glory days of dancing. Now the odor has overwhelmed me leaving me with one hell of a headache.

All's fair in Unionland.....

So, if you've read the previous blogs then you know the work situation isn't the best. Paranoia seems to be my best friend these days. I think they are leaning in hard on the fuck ups around here because per union they have to lay off in seniority.

Here's the good news. It doesn't go by how many years you've put in. Instead it's something called "time served". I know, sounds more like a prison sentence than a job, and yes at moments it feels that way too. With that in mind my overtime that I've worked like a nut in my first 18 months here put me ahead of someone who was here five years. So, while I don't like to count my chickens before they hatch, I know I'm on the cusp of losing my job.

So why pick on the fuck ups? Well, if they quit or if we give them enough ammo they will fire us. What happens then? The newbies and the ones they like get bummed up the food chain. I find it interesting now that I have intermitten FMLA that my tardiness, absenteeism and failing to swipe in and out are brought to my attention. I also find it interesting since I've stopped volunteering for extra shifts all of this has come to light. Or, perhaps since all of this has come to light I have not been offered extra shifts. Hmmmm.......

My mom had the best response ever. "But wouldn't it be nice to collect for a little while?" Hell yeah was my answer. I mean I could go back to school like I want to.

My second conspiracy theory is that they are going to totally eliminate the mental health assistant position, hence all the new hires for mental health workers. Why hire one group of workers when others are getting canceled all the time?

Another juicy rumor is that they are looking to sell the place. New lights in the hallway, new chairs, supposedly new computers are to follow suit. Fresh mulch in the beds outside. What do you do before you sell your house? Give it more curb appeal and fix the minor things, like the elevators.

My all time favorite scuttlebutt is the latest and greatest treatment I've personally received from my employer is in retaliation for using my FMLA. I find this funny. I've had a quasi confirmation from a peer who also has FMLA . She was left alone on the floor often or if there was someone scheduled to come in they were canceled. Within ear shot of someone with clout around here overheard her and before you know it, she had help on the floor.

With that teed pit in mind, I find it very interesting that on Saturday night the charge nurse was not allowed to call for help for 18 patients but called me on Friday for the same census. Also, to further confirm my paranoia, tomorrow will prove significant. If we are at the same census, and there are two of us working the floor rather than one of us canceled or floated to another unit, I know at the expense of the patients' safety the administration is setting me up to have every right to terminate me.

We'll see how far they get because I'm up for a fight.

On the hunt.....

I wish I could look for a job the way I look for a man. I am the most aggressive individual out there when it comes to looking for love (by the way, which I found!) Mild epiphany: maybe now that I've met one goal, I should put the energy into this new one.
Ok, so why do I hate looking for a job? Because I hate rejection. Ok, more than that. I hate all the work with little to no return. I mean really a resume, a cover letter and references customized for each position you apply for. Well, it's just a little to damned tedious for me.
So, with the impeding lay offs I really just want to bust out with "Oh, when the saints, oh when the saints, oh when the saints go marching in, oh I want to be in that number...." Yes I hate my current job, but I know from first hand experience unemployment sucks more.
So with that in mind I figure rather than spin my wheels worrying about what might happen, I'm going to relax until I know for sure what the fuck is going on.

Time.....

It's a beautiful and precious gift that I'm starting to become aware of. Fear is a terrible enemy of time. Tonight at work there was an young addict and it got me aside from my usual annoyed with patients that don't sleep; actually thinking.

I'm afraid of sobriety. As my liver literally is starting to scream for mercy it is becoming more and more clear this is not an option. It is a necessity. However, I am not ready. What am I scared of? Being able to get off the sauce isn't so much the issue as staying off of it.

First things first though and that is that you can only help those who are willing to help themselves. I am so not there yet. I don't understand why. The second thing is to look at the twelve steps.

First I am an alcoholic. Check. Actually, more like check plus, but anyway.

Second, I am powerless over my drinking. Super double check plus plus.

Third, surrender it to your higher power. I've done this and it works.

And this is as far as I can make it. Take it one day at a time. How about this. My drinking is so severe I would need inpatient care to make sure I don't die. Ugly.

So as I poke and prod at my liver and hear it go ouch, I know it's getting up on that time when I need to conquer that fear. I just haven't got my little mind made up to do it yet and well .... Quite frankly, it is bugging the ever living shit out of me. If only it could drive the drink out.

Hamster on a wheel

Note to self: If you're feeling depressed and miserable, it might be advised NOT to go back and read your older blogs. My god am I a whiny bitch. I'm really good at being miserable. Following that note, yeah, I'm fed up so I did like any other good psych patient would do and went to see my shrink.
I was out of ideas. Cymbalta makes me manic. I was starting to have some cognitive effects of being on neurotin. I was feeling good because I'd entered a period of stability in a sense via the boyfriend and stopped all meds except klonopin. So, what's changed?

Well, I have not ridden in nearly 2 months. I also moved in with my boyfriend. While this is a good thing the immediate repercussions are a disruption in my homeostasis which has resulted in the manifestation of a clinical case of depression. Symptoms include loss of interest in activities once enjoyed, weight gain, increased sleeping, increased eating and alcohol consumption, and listlessness.

Does it sound like I'm intellectualizing? Hahahahahahahahaha. Wait now you're going to call me labile, aren't you? Moving on to paranoid? Fuck it bring it all on!

I spent some time with the good Dr and reviewed my case. I was out of suggestions. The ball was totally in his court, and he threw me a curve ball. Abilify.

It's an atypical anti psychotic used to treat various mental illnesses including bipolar. I didn't know much about the drug so of course I went to my favorite web site which for the first time let me down. Finding nothing there I busted out my google chi and found myself at the old faithful wikipedia .

The hard part for me right now is knowing there really isn't a lot known about this med. They put a friend of mine on it a while back and her biggest fear was developing tardive dyskinesia.
I was the one that told her to "quit your bitching and take the damned med if it will make you feel better." I'd look like a real hypocritical asshole if I didn't at least try it.

Day one: Well it takes about two weeks to build up so I'm not so sure if it's a hang over that's getting me or if I'm just having side effects. A bit of restlessness, shakes, mild headache for the bad side. On the upswing of things, the thoughts don't seem to be there today and I can get out of bed.

My fingers are crossed but I'm not holding my breath. My hope is that I don't gain any more weight and I feel happy again soon, but not too happy.

Help, I've tripped over my axis II and can't get up

Life has an ugly way of smacking you back if you poke at it long enough with a sharp enough stick and that's about how I'd describe my relationship with my job. It's a necrotic symbiosis in which neither one of us has the balls to cut the cord, but they certainly have done a phenomenal job of pushing me away.

For the first time every in any of my jobs I was suspended for three days with final written warning. Really? While full well knowing I've been dancing around hot coals for some time and yes this is exactly what I deserve, I don't feel it was done in the most ethical manner.

First, I'm sent an email to meet with my boss and union delegate and not told what the meeting is about. Fuax pas number two would be that I only received a verbal counseling for my absenteeism from work, however they are using a written warning from over a year ago. Our union contract specifically states it must be recent. Hmmmmm..... Also, for my failing to swipe in and out, be on time and not completing my CPR on time (which is the only piece in which I actually received a written warning about). Oh, and one no call no show.

The no call no show: The schedule was published one week before starting, and I believe the union contract stipulates that it needs to be out sooner than that. I know the Department of Labor regulations are one week, so we'll see if I have a leg to stand on. Also, it was a change in my rotation, but I'm expected to check and know my schedule. Please don't fuck with my rotation, please.

The icing on the cake is when I asked my boss, "So, I'm suspended starting tonight?" "No, I'll let you know when." Thank God I have a union. The union delegate said they couldn't do that. They said they could. Then all three of them looked at me as if I knew some magic answer they didn't.

And here it is: Fuck you! No, really, fuck you. You're going to suspend me and then tell me that you're going to wait until it's convenient for you because you can't find coverage for my shifts and then expect me to show up tonight and work to my best abilities. I thought I worked in behavioral health which included an element of psychology. Doesn't take a degree in this to read "mind fuck" all over it. So, no, if you're going to suspend me, you're going to suspend me starting this very minute. There is no waiting. I don't do suspense well.

So, I took my five days off and ran with it. I worked on putting our new home in order. I went to the beach. I relaxed and enjoyed a much needed break from the bullshit. And yes, so far three days into being back at work the scare tactic has worked.

More terrifying than that is I'm scared shitless no matter how hard I try to straighten up and fly right, I'm going to end up fucking myself over.

Life's little frustrations...

Today's comes in the form of a job. This has grown from a job I once loved and cared about to now leaving me with a bitter disdain for all of humanity. Congratulations, psych. You have managed to suck my soul dry.

On tonight's list I have been chastised by the nurse in front of my peer. I have been given a list of my responsibilities (which I cannot do because I do not have a key to the unit). Yeah, this place can fuck off. Really? You need to say to me "You ought to know better." Real professional. Thank goodness you're not management. What's it like being an angry black woman in America?

Environmental rounds: A check list provided to the minions to ensure the safety of the unit. Now enters the great debate. Should they be done at the beginning of the shift or the end of the shift? Well here's my argument for the end of the shift. By completing them towards the end of the shift I was able to show I was vigilant throughout my shift, rather than checking up on the previous shift to see if they missed anything. Also, it provides an opportunity for me to more accurately record when a change in the unit's overall safety has changed. For example, if a light bulb burns out on my shift I should be able to write on the environmental rounds sheet that I reported the issue to engineering. However, if I do them at the beginning of the shift well I'm doing twice the work.

I know I got out of the first grade a while ago, but do you really feel the need to tell me where to sit? Yes, I understand I'm supposed to watch both wings at once. In fact you think I'm so awesome at my job that I can be checking one end of the hall while watching the other end around the corner. I must be pretty bad ass. At least until someone gets hurt, because God forbid you come out of your safety zone of the nurse's station and actually have the balls to sit in the hall next to me. Nah, you guys are nurses. You've earned the right to sit on the phone all night long and complain about how you do nothing.

Ok, to my peer. I'm really happy you're into Jesus. That's awesome. But for the love of Christ himself, please turn down your head set. I'm sitting more than six feet away and I can hear the fire and brimstone. My God and church are happy ones. I'd like to keep this illusion going. Thank you.
Scheduling: This is some sorta special right here. You fuck with my rotation, then wonder where I am when I don't show. Is anyone around this joint really paying attention? Really? And now I need to do my certifications and well thanks to you I'm now going to get overtime and then get yelled at for getting overtime.

But oh, wait that's right I'm just a minion. I'm not supposed to think or feel or have opinions. I'm just to put up and shut up. God, I hate my fucking job. Please get me the hell out of here.

randomness

In the mists of it all I have lost track of time here in this place I come to throw my thoughts around like a deflated ball. In fact of late I had one reader comment to me privately, "I don't have a blog where I can publicly announce all my stuff to work out." Fuck you. This is as private as I get, and really? I think since December or pretty much since Devoid shoved off I've kept the gory details of my love life to myself. It's now just mostly horses and work.

With that in mind, Taya tested positive for Lyme disease. Hopefully I can start riding her next week. Fingers are crossed, incense is lit, and I'm praying to what ever gods choose to listen. I'm so conflicted about what to do. I don't know if I should keep leasing her or not. My plan is to slow down. I won't show this year and next year hit it hard. Just train my ass off. My sounding board doesn't think this is a good idea. I have a few more weeks to think about what I need to do.

What I can tell you is not making up to the barn to see her really put me in a funk. For the first time in months I had intrusive thoughts of suicide and couldn't sleep. I just wanted to lay in bed because I was scared that if I got out of bed I'd hurt myself. I don't like that feeling. So I fixed it. I smoked a bowl and went to the barn. Taya time is so healing for my psyche and I realized how much I need it in order to function. Just the idea of stopping riding made me want to quit everything else around me. It doesn't matter how good I am at it. It matters how much it keeps my soul balanced.

Right now it's just a jumbled mess of thoughts that I need to weed through to find what my heart really wants. I was told that I might listen to my heart more when my head knows best. Between the two I will find a happy medium. It's just going to take time.

Life has a funny way of calling you home. I feel I have been traveling for a long time now and am finally at a point where I can stop and rest. It brings me a sense of peace knowing this is where I'm headed. While I haven't figured out where the horse piece of this puzzle fits in yet, the rest of it looks almost seamless.

Baby's got a boo-boo

Starting with the show it was sheer hell. Taya was starting to go into heat a few days before hand and my gut started to poke at me telling me I should scratch. But I pushed on. I was going to ride with a fellow competitor from the barn until her horse decided to go ape shit on the trailer and my girl refused to load. Okay, can't blame her. We'll just go with the next group at 9. Well, fuck me if that little bitch didn't learn a new trick in all of this and is now refusing to get on this trailer. Now I really don't want to go. But eventually she caved and went in.

Once at the show we had to hit the ground running. I sent my right hand man over to get me signed in. Then I got dressed and half the barn showed up to deal with Taya bouncing off the walls and got her tacked up. Rushed into the warm up ring were my only goal was to breath. Before I knew it it was time to go in so off we went. I wasn't paying attention and we went off course. FUCK!!! I have been riding this test for over 10 years. I was more tense at this show than I've ever been. I scored my absolute lowest ever on this test.

Everyone saw how crushed I was. Everyone from the barn saw how hard I worked. Everything was perfect. Everyone has complimented me on how well she was doing and in a split second it has all been taken away from me. She's lame.

We don't know why. The owner is trying to blame me because when Taya got off the trailer she hit her leg. Not bad. If it was it would have bothered her right away, but I've seen worse marks on her from coming in out of the pasture. The vet came out and said it wasn't it, but the owner is fixated on that being the problem. As of Tuesday I have been out at the barn hosing off her leg twice a day and making sure it's getting taken care of. I brush her and fly spray her. I give her treats. She is in pain. When we are done with our routine she walks back to the herd with her head down, whereas she normally gaily trots off to join her girlfriends.

The owner has not stopped by once to see her horse since this whole thing. She is upset because I didn't (although I thought I did) tell her about the show. She has been up my ass about how broke she is. She can't afford to send her husband to the dentist to get a tooth pulled. She just had to drop $700 into car. They need a new roof and there's a leak in the bathroom. But oh hey yeah her son is looking at colleges and they've already been to Dartmouth, Brown and Williams. Really? And when I offered to send extra money to help cover Taya's shots this spring I was told no thank you they were all set. Bitch, stop talking out both sides of your mouth.

I am despondent. What do I do? I have some money to spend on her, but not much. This is why I lease, not own. I spend all day ruminating over the possible outcomes. If she isn't sound by the end of June I can't afford to lease her anymore. I'm not paying for a horse I can't ride, but how do I break the news to the owner? What will happen to Taya when I stop leasing her? I want her better asap so I can continue on with my plans to greatness.

I internalize all of this. I feel like such a fuck up, like maybe fate is telling me I'm not meant to ride. This is the second time where I have lost my mount to lameness and not been able to advance in my riding. It's like learning to play "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" over and over and over again. Sure, I'm really fucking good at it but I want to learn to do something different. I dream of doing something beyond this backyard shit. I might not be talented enough, but I am disciplined enough, and this is the part where my heart starts to break....

This isn't a sport you do by yourself. You have a partner. Mine is so great. She knows what I'm thinking before I'm thinking it. She does things automatically without me asking. It took me a long time to get here and I really am upset at seeing it all fall apart so quickly. I cry and pray that she is ok and we can continue to go forward, and for as much as it is killing me in the back of my mind I'm already forming a plan "B", but the problem is it won't be the same if I can't do it with Taya.

Horse Crazy

as in I'm going nuts.

Part 1: My neighbor has adopted a horse and is just beginning to learn. However, she is off her rocker so she does what she wants to do for the most part regardless of what I tell her. She obsesses in a way that is unhealthy. It is impressive and overwhelming to witness.

She calls me a lot, and leaves very long detailed messages about this bond she has with this horse, which is a very beautiful thing. However, I do not need to know how many times in one day the horse farts. I don't need to hear the same thing over and over and over and over and over again. If it's big call me, otherwise please leave a short message and I will call you back as soon as I can. I am feeling very smothered by this and I don't know how to cope.

Round one of something being big and wrong with this horse was a couple of months ago. She was swollen on the belly. It was distended and the edema was so bad the stomach area was 1/2" lower than normal and about 24" long by 12" across. My neighbor came to my house and woke me up to make me come look. It warranted it, but really? Off to the barn I went to look at the situation and say, "yup, she needs a vet. This isn't something my homemade horse doctor stuff can fix". It wound up being contact dermatitis.

Now, in the morning I have the pleasure of meeting the vet for a horse that isn't mine. The legal owner really should be there and I am so tempted to send him a bill for my time. The horse is lame. As of yesterday it wasn't a get the gun kinda lame, but more like a little old lady over did it and just needs a few days to rest kinda lame. Of course my neighbor freaks out and immediately thinks it's founder. Hmmmm....my gut says no, but I couldn't remember why until I met the farrier later that day. 1) It tends to be bilateral. 2) It tends to run in both feet. 3) It usually starts in the front hooves. I think it's an abscess, but the farrier dug down deep into her hoof and was unable to rupture anything. I said it was too early. It hasn't formed yet.

I stopped by yesterday afternoon and she looked no worse, but no better. By the evening the horse wasn't standing and supposedly in an ass ton of pain. Did you give her the bute? No, she doesn't like it.

So, why am I so fucking annoyed? I was supposed to have a lesson in the morning and then go spend time with (). I wanted to relax because I have a show coming up and I'm really stressed out about it. I have so much to get done and so little time. This is not something I need on my plate right now.

My trainer has announced that this is the last time I will compete at my current level and at the next show I need to move up to next level. I'm a mixed bag of nuts over this. Part of me is really proud that Taya and I made it this far this quick. On the other side of the coin, I'm annoyed. I don't want to show backyard anymore. I want to prove that I am someone in this world of horses so I want to compete at a nationally recognized shows. This is a huge leap for me and one in which my self confidence is lacking.

crickets.....

They are a good sound. No answers. No questions. No conflict, just the night being filled with the sound of a simple creature rubbing their parts together.

Bad Mommy: The Sequel

So, after venting about Taya's owner I had the pleasure of actually meeting the owner. I've only been riding her horse for nearly 8 months now. You'd think I would have had this experience before now. Not one of the shows I took her horse to.

So, I'm at the barn getting Taya ready and I hear someone come through the gate and start talking to a horse. It's Taya's owner talking to another horse like it's her. She walks into the barn and proceeds to laugh off what she's done. She stands there and talks to Taya and says to me, "She probably doesn't even know who I am." I say nothing.

Mr. Shankun magically appears at just the right moment and whisks Bad Mommy away into the house. I am left alone with my baby. My cage is rattled and I am working hard to settle my nerves. Taya knows I'm not spot on.

I tack up and head over to the ring. As I start to work Taya in comes Bad Mommy. She watches and Mr Shankun explains what I'm doing. Mr. Shankun leaves. She then asks about Taya's canter. I explain that she doesn't have a pretty canter right now. It's flat and strung out because she's not strong enough to hold herself together. "Oh, because when so and so was riding her I watched her at a lesson and her trainer told me she had a really nice rocking horse canter." Yeah, how long ago was that bitch? Do you remember? Are you sure you have the right horse? Grrrrrrrr!!!!!

Then she tells me in a long winded way that because of her bad back it bothers her to bend over so she moved her brushes from the bottom shelf to the second shelf. She then told me that she didn't realize that's where I was keeping my brushes but if I could keep my brushes on the bottom shelf that would be great. Annoyed, and choking back my Irish temper I said, "Oh, ok." Then she asked me if I knew where her saddle was. No clue bitch. I use my own stuff and I take most of it home. Well, I can't use yours. Mines a 19". You're right. You can't use mine. I'm glad we agree on something.

When I returned to the barn, I saw what she'd done. I turned around to face the saddle racks on the wall and there underneath a very dusty saddle cover was one moldy dressage saddle. I can only assume it was hers. I took my brushes and put them in the car. Then I saw she hadn't moved her brushes. Those were still in the big barn's hay loft. She'd assumed the brushes on the bottom shelf were hers and well moved them. Yeah, they belonged to someone else. Douche Bag!

Also, she's a trouble maker rumor starter. She has turned my crank more than once and I'm sure she knows it. I got a fb message about Mr Shankun's place selling. I was so sad, but I had no information to give her. I asked if she'd consider letting me move Taya up closer to where I live. "No, I hardly make it here as it is." "Exactly, you never make it here and I figured if it could save you some money until you were ready to start riding again it wouldn't hurt."

I just hope Taya's owner doesn't drive me nuts enough to make me want to find a new horse.

Bad Mommy

I'm not saying I walk on water here, but I have a huge issue with pet owners who do not take responsibility for their animals. However, I also have just as much of an issue with people who kill their animals with kindness. For example, if you can't afford to eat mac and cheese please don't spend a fortune on food for your dog. Don't send your dog to a vet if you can't afford to go to the Dr's yourself. Give a dog the right to die if they are suffering. Don't be selfish and keep them alive for your company. There is a fine line between loving and giving comfort and letting your companion move on.

Taya's owner is the worst owner, EVER!!!! She is pissing me off something fierce, and I can't say a damned thing. Her facebook profile pic is of Taya running around. It's one in an album where the other two Taya looks like crap. She is flat and her back is underdeveloped. One of her friends asked if the horse was her's; to which she answered yes. That horse is no more her's than the air she breaths. Then she talks about riding her. Stupid fucking bitch. If she goes near Taya, Taya will kill her. Taya is too hot of a horse for some newbie to be handling.

I am the only one Taya works for. Her head is coming down. She is salivating at the mouth, and she's starting to use her hind end. I don't have a ton of money, but I did manage to convince the owner that she should be on supplements. It helps Taya not be so stiff so she can make progress. However these can be rough on a horse's digestive track so I want her on an ulcer preventative. When I mentioned this to the owner she was on board until she saw the cost. Then she asked if Taya could take a half dose. I don't know bitch. Can you take half your meds and still expect them to be effective?

So here's a very talented and loving horse if you treat her right and that's just it. Taya's owner doesn't do jack for her. She has not been out to see her in over a year. She claims medical issues, but please. How about you come brush her or lunge her or do ground work with her?

Taya's owner allowed a woman to ride her. This woman did nothing to get Taya in shape, but took her out to a show and jumped her. I believe Taya was injured due to this. It's like trying to run a marathon without training first.


Taya could use a chiropractor, acupuncture and massage. She won't spend a dime on it, but will take her son to acting classes in NYC. She goes skiing and vacations in Martha's Vineyard. The horse isn't a priority. It's a status symbol. Sad.

Lost in Translation....

A therapeutic response is a key instrument used in my line of work, when patients are awake of course. Which is why I work third. Last week though, I had the "pleasure" of covering 2nd shift and therefore had to interact with the patients on a level deeper than what I'm used to on third. I went from answering the simple "Can I have a cup of water?" to pretending like I care. I wonder if it's like me trying to fake an orgasm, something I'm not very good at either. Anyway, here are some of the things I usually say in response to the patients....

When they apologize for making a mistake....
"I'm sorry for......"
I say, "It's ok that you made a mistake."
What I mean is, "Like I give a shit"

When they tell me about something sad.....
"I hate it when......"
I say, "I'm really sorry you're in such a rough place right now"
What I mean is, "Sucks to be you"

When they tell me about wanting to hurt themselves.....
" I want to stick my finger in a light socket..."
I say, " I don't think that's a very good idea."
What I mean is," That's a piss poor way to try and kill yourself."

It sucks that in three years time I've become this callous to a person's conscious. I am angry with myself because there was a time and a place when I didn't think like this. Don't get me wrong. I shed my Christ complex that every young psych student has long before I earned my cap and gown. I think hanging off a pole taught me I couldn't fix the world. It was already way too fucked, but if I could offer comfort to another soul for just a second I could live with myself. I have lost my compassion for humankind and that has left me bitter and jaded when it comes to how we treat others. I am no better than anyone else. The expression, "If you can't beat them, join them" has me under it's ugly heel.

However, I am naive enough to cling to hope that I won't always feel this way.....

Stupid hope.....

An evening with Nurse McCunty....

I really wasn't in the mood to come to work today. It might have something to do with the fact that I'm on two antibiotics and was running a low grade fever. It might have something to do with my personal life stress and just not caring about anything else.

Yes work sucks. I watched Office Space over the weekend and well Jennifer Aniston said it best, "I don't think you're supposed to like your job". Lord knows I don't. I've got my boss up my ass about health stream. So now you want me to watch both hallways while doing checks and be behind the desk working on this. I'm pissed you want me in two places at once, let alone three. Jackass.

While I'm venting, let's go for scheduling. As I told them, "My brother could do a better job, and he's retarded." One week it's 40 hours the next 16. Somebody is really bad at math because I am scheduled for 32 hours. Three times they have had me double booked on two units. Again, the expectation of be being in two places at once pisses me off. While I feel the snafu is in retaliation for my absenteeism, I know I cannot prove it. Otherwise, I'd be shoving another grievance up the ol' administration pipe line.

Please don't give my hours to RN's. Beyond it's not cool, it also violates the union contract. Firing off yet another grievance. I think I might start to like paperwork.

So, today when I started my shift and didn't see my partner in crime present I was a bit saddened. Ultimately, I hope he's okay, but really I miss his company. He helps me cope with this ridiculous cluster fuck called a job.

Icing on the cake, Nurse McCunty was on and started the shift with telling me where to sit. This isn't first grade bitch. I know how to do my job. "Check. Still Breathing," so please get out of my ass or buy me a god damned drink.

Blood First...

Family. Mine in particular happens to be a whirlwind of dysfunctional-ism with the boarder lines battling it out over a senseless pawn, my brother. That just plain pisses me off. Here's the dealio....

At the beginning of the year, my mom was informed that TJ's care providers were no longer going to be able to provide care to him due to a lack of funding. Aka, he's quasi getting kicked out by the program. Here's the good news..... TJ doesn't move until mom signs on the dotted line. Now for the bad news....

Mom and I know Princess and Pops pretty well and decided not to say anything until the situation had a resolution. Well that plan back fired when my sister learned of the situation through the house management. But Princess being the well trained drama queen sent out these long ass emails on a diatribe about how hurt she and dad were at not being included. Keep in mind that these two where not there post op for TJ, nor were they there when they were trying to secure funding for TJ, nor were they there when we were dealing with TJ's sexual assault. Well, you hopefully get the idea.

The sidebar issue that really should be in the spot light here is my sister and mother's relationship. My sister has not spoken to my mother in almost 3 years. In addition to that, my mother is not allowed to see the grandchildren. Does Princess not understand how her behavior has driven a wedge in this family deeper than any other stunt I might have pulled as a kid? Does she not get there is a difference between protecting your kids and sheltering them? Oh, wait that's right. I'm not a parent. I couldn't have a fucking clue.

I am judged for my life choices. I don't feel breeding like a jack rabbit is a job. Nor do I feel that marriage is essential to fulfill my sense of spirituality.

So, what do I really think about the situation? Hmmmm...... well it's tricky. I'm certainly conflicted because I know BOTH of them are really good at playing the victim. However, I have a higher expectation for Princess to evolve. Mom's set in her ways. Learn to love and accept her for who she is as a person and not what you want her to be. She cannot do harm to your children. There are worse things that random strangers can do. Pops is a wonderful role model for the kids. What's going to happen the first time he snaps on them?

I finally told my sister not to include me in her mass emails about TJ. I felt this was inappropriate and if she needed to say something to me about him she could contact me directly. Mass emailing the family creates too much of an opportunity for triangulation to occur and I will not enable that behavior.

I could go on and on about the situation but I wouldn't want to compete with Princess.....

The art of sitting

For the past few nights we've had a fair share of 1:1's in which a patient requires a staff member to be with them at all times. Various reasons for a patient to be on a 1:1 include suicide risk, self injurious behavior, AWOL precautions, fall risk precautions, assaultive behavior, confusion, or just plain because.

THIS IS A HUGE COST TO THE HOSPITAL BECAUSE WE DON'T GET PAID EXTRA BY THE INSURANCE COMPANIES TO PROVIDE THIS CARE!!!!! In addition to the cost, there is usually if not always a staffing issue because it's not like between the 4 units in behavioral health there is maybe one or two of these constant observations. It's never that simple. Usually there's an ungodly amount like 8 or 9. Then someone's out sick, and two people are on vacation; on each unit. So begins the great race of OT. 16 hour shifts. 32 hours in 48. It's ugly, and it can get dangerous. We often times have to leave one person to run the floor with each shift facing their own unique problems. Stress skyrockets.

Nearly three years into the job I have found that sitting is an art. You need to be prepared. Regardless of what shift always have something to do. Color, crosswords, knit, read. Whatever. Why? Because it is the most boring aspect of the job and sleeping is frowned upon.

Make sure you have a patient bed side table to put your stuff on. Spreading out makes me feel more comfy. Also, food is important to surviving this 8 hours of sheer hell. Snacks are a good idea because whether the other staff has forgotten about you, are very busy or just pissed off at you, you can get stuck.

If it's a day or evening shift you follow the person around like a lost puppy trying to provide them with direction. Then there are the borderlines. They want to talk and whine and make you your friend so they can say they hate you. Come to find out it's not very therapeutic to say," I just don't give a shit." I recommend prescribed benzos for this part. It makes it much less painful. With night shift the ultimate goal is to stay awake and let the patient sleep. It's not fun pacing the halls at 3AM when all you want to do is sit on your ass and blog.

Pee before you sit. You don't know if you'll have another chance to do so again for the next eight hours.

Other random items I like to have kicking around when I'm sitting include hand sanitizer, tissues, chap stick, hand lotion, and two or three sets of rubber gloves.. Grab fresh linen. A sheet for the table, a couple of blankets, and about 3 towels. Why? You never know. At any moment it could be a code M, a code 1 or even a code Brown. Be prepared for whatever shit the patient might try and throw at you.

Lastly, the most important piece to sitting a 1:1 is the finding the Goldy Locks of chairs. If it's too hard my back is killing me by the end of the shift. If it's too comfy, I'm out like a light.

Gut wrenching part 2

An update on what's wrong with me, well at least with regards to my stomach issues. I was certain with all the pain and the location it was gall stones. My sister has them. My dad has them. My aunt has them. There are pretty good odds I would have them too, but no I take after my mother.

The ultrasound relieved that not only do I not have gall stones, but in fact I have beautiful intestines. Part of me takes a deep sigh of relief knowing I've been working at pickling my liver for a few years now. So, what the hell is wrong with me?

Friday I got a call from my PCP. Brand new to me, but I like her already. Down to earth, realistic and thorough. All the blood work came back within normal limits. It was here that I began to get frustrated. An answer of "I don't know" doesn't set well with me when I'm looking to you to know the answer.

I called my mom asking her what the hell is wrong with me. She thought it might be middle spurts. "What the hell is that Mom?" "An old German wives tale about discomfort between ovulations." "Great Mom, but I don't think that's it. I don't ovulate." She began to sputter something I really can't remember her doing.

My tummy survived the weekend. I figured to hell with the bland diet. I was going to eat well. By Monday I learned there wasn't too much I could do to avoid the situation. My APRN called. There was one test that hadn't come back by Friday, but was there first thing Monday morning. I'd tested positive for H. pylori.

So, two antibiotics a round of probiotics and omeprazole for 14 days. I feel like I've been on antibiotics for the past six weeks. If I get pregnant, I'm naming the kid Anti.....

Gut wrenching.....

No really. My tummy is super tender. After ignoring the intermittent pain that has been steadily increasing for at a minimum of the last three months I finally caved and went to the Drs. Not so lucky me most likely has gall stones. Grrrr......

I'm annoyed because I love to eat rich high calorie food, something if I even so much as think about I get pains. Plus too the stress of everything has given me GURD.

Fallen Cards: A chapter in the House of Characters

Life has a funny way of forcing you to figure out what you need even when you don't know you need it. With that in mind Pimpett, Hubby and I are at the storming phase of development in our relationship. They were not able to pay their rent in January, nor any of the bills. Pimpett's account wound up being overdrawn and Hubby's disability check from his job has not come through yet. This is frustrating all around for everyone and well...I'm pissed.

I was a dumb ass with my money and with a healthy dash of mania I went on ebay and spent what should have been my extra money this month, but instead needed to put towards their share of the bills. So of course by the time it caught up with me my account wound up being overdrawn. Now I'm not perfect, however I know not to play before I pay. I'm ok with that, but this round the reverse happened. Yeah it was stupid and irresponsible and now I'm playing catch up.

So, with that in mind the escalating tension due to financial stress finally cracked on Sunday. Hubby's body language oozed of a pathology that resonated across my childhood issues. I felt like I was living with my mother again. His body language was rigid and closed off. He could barely make eye contact. However, I am not living with my mother anymore, and in fact they are living with me. With that in mind I called him on it. He was upset I had him talk to the landlord on Thursday. Oh, well. You should have paid the rent or at least called him.

While there has been ineffective "spitting" going on there is resolution on the horizon. Yes, I don't like paying other people's bills so yes I get pissed when that happens. Needless to say when I have been around I haven't been the happiest person. Mostly though I have been keeping a low profile. Comments included "You can't prove we live here," "We only have a gentleman's agreement," and "I should charge you for the maid service,". Biting my tongue, I only thought of my comebacks which included, "In the state of Connecticut proof of residence is determined by where you have your mail sent." "Really? You don't remember that email I sent you stating our agreement? Gentleman or not, I have something in writing, bitch!" Lastly, "Consider your maid service your interest payment on what you owe me."

I think the best advice I got was to change the locks, and honestly I most likely will if this shit isn't resolved by the end of March. If I'm not paid back for the oil, my thermostat has a lock box, and it will be going into use. No pay. No heat.

Untitled

Like water we find our way over each other. Smooth and wet, bringing forth the life in each other. I shutter a smile under my surrender.

a little update....

Yes, there is a new squeeze and I will be bragging later. There just isn't enough room here.

The room mates: We are at the storming stage of this little group. There have been some outside stressors, but also it's in this stage that we will develop a communication style. I think in the end we will come through everything ok. The trick is for us to be honest and direct. The riff: Come last month they couldn't pay any of the bills. I covered what I could. We made a deal. They would cover the cable bill of 150, and I would take care of the lights and oil and a cord of wood. Huh? I am so bad at making deals. But it pisses me off that they go out and buy stuff for the dog, junk food (even though I've bought food for the house and offered to cook). Yeah, the relationship is financially askewed, but krama right? Also, this is forcing me to trust them. I also need to stop becoming my mother and feeling like I'm being taken advantage of.

Taya is going so well. She didn't even buck when I asked her to canter. The bridle I bought her is too big so I gave it to Pimpett. I think it will look good on her "horse", Casino. She was disappointed that I didn't canter her to the right. We tried, but I didn't want her to buck, and I don't feel that I'm ready to push her or myself. Yes, it jars me when she bucks. I get unnerved and she knows it, but it's funny. All horses sense it and most will take advantage of the rider's insecurity. There is something different with her; almost giving. She feels bad, but she's also in pain. The only way she can let me know is by bucking. I've since started feeding her a joint supplement, and I think it's made a difference. Here's hoping on a homeopathic approach...

Work: Why bother? Same shit different day is the abridged version. I feel like I'm finally settling into night shift, and I'm politely asked to leave because I can't handle it. I'm not getting my time off requests met; at least on one unit. I'm contemplating grieving a shit fuck ton of stuff. All documented and to be discussed with my union delegate.

School: I'm thinking of changing my educational path to teaching horseback riding. Strongly encouraged by T. M.

S.D.'s grandmother passed. My prayers are with him, and I won't lie. I'm apprehensive about his current squeeze being there for him the way he needs love and support.

Dropping like flies.....

It's strange how life has her own karmic way of doing things. She prefers to strap me over a barrel and beat the ever living snot out of me, sometimes literally.

Shortly after Thanksgiving, Pimpett lost her father to end stage renal failure. Yesterday morning Hubby lost his mother. She'd been diagnosed with stage three lung cancer shortly before Christmas. Then last Sunday she had a stroke. They had to discontinue the chemo and radiation therapy because she was too weak to start rehab. They couldn't start rehab because she was too weak from the chemo and radiation.

New Year's day I learn that my brother's group home is discontinuing care for all high maintenance clients because it is no longer cost effective to care for them. In other words, we (as in my mother and I) need to start to find a new place for him to live. At one point my mother was thinking about having him move back home with her. I repressed my desire to have a shit fit on her and diplomatically told her I didn't think it was a good idea. TJ has developed such a sense of autonomy living on his own and I was concerned he'd regress. Also, TJ's care has become more involved in the past ten years since he's left home. I'd be terrified of either her or my aunt getting hurt. Of course, I support her in her decision not to tell my sister or father. My reasoning is probably wrong though. My attitude is fuck them. They aren't involved anyway, and they'd most likely just run interference.

SD sent me a text within 24 hours of learning about Hubby's mother's demise to tell me that his grandmother had a stroke and was not expected to make it to the end of the week. I know him, and in the moment if he decides he wants me to be there for him, I will go.

Oh, my sister. I'll see her bitch and raise her a cunt. I get an email from her asking me to stop by and pick up my Christmas presents. Also, she wanted me to know how they'd missed me over the holidays? Really? Are you fucking shitting me? Precious, you are so full of shit! You missed me so much that you forgot to call? Fuck off! Really! When I called her out on this fact she promptly reminded me that I was invited over the day after Christmas, and how TJ and Dad were disappointed I didn't show. I reminded her that I said I might come because I would be tired from working a lot of overtime that week. Thanks for the phone call to make sure I wasn't in a car accident on my way to her house that day. So, with that in mind, I asked her what it was like to be right all the time. Does it bring her closer to God?

Round two with my sister began with an email stating "Peace. I did not mean to torment you during this difficult time for you." Really, then what was your intention? "I'm not going to fight with you" I emailed back, "Of course you're not going to fight with me. That would be unchristian. Instead, you'll resort to more traditional tactics including avoidance."

What else? Oh, yeah. My childhood riding instructor who refuses to acknowledge me because I never took my horseback riding anywhere lost her husband this week. It breaks my heart that here is a woman who, every time I see a horse I think of her. She is the toughest, crustiest ol' New Englander you will ever meet simply because she does not want to be known any other way.

Rip roaring sinus infection. Actually got yelled at by the Dr. I was having double vision at work and he felt I should have gone to the emergency room. Hahahahahahaha. I didn't tell him I worked for the same place he did on third shift. As one friend put it so well, "When was the last time he went to the ED? You would have waited 3 days and sent home with Tylenol." Missed a week of work. All I could do was sleep. Walking across the living room left me wiped out for two hours. So, I did laundry with naps in between loads only to learn my dryer is on the fritz.

Haven't heard boo from my girlfriends since before the holidays. Didn't realize I was that much of a jackass. Called one of them today. Said she'd call me back in 10 minutes. Here's the good news. After ten minutes were up my suspensions were right. She wasn't calling back. So much for closeness.

And that's just it. I feel like I'm in hell. I feel so alone, and yet somehow I keep it all together and do not become overly clingly with the current guy. Why not? Well, that's another blog for another day. For now, I'm taking comfort in the harmony of Johnny Cash's American IV: The man's come around.

Ain't too proud to beg,,,,,,

Taya has come so far in the past few weeks. She is giving me everything she's got and working towards giving me more. I've decided to go all the way (insert sports enthusiast voice here). I'm joining two or three local show associations and I'm going to compete for year end awards.

With that in mind, there is a fact that must be faced. This shit ain't cheap. Sad, but true. Doesn't mean I'm not resourceful. Ebay has been my hero. Even sadder still is in the midst of navigating all the politics, the people I'm riding against are stuck up. If you don't have the best of the best, it's noticed. With that in mind I'm not too proud to say help. I made a wish list at Dover Saddlery. If you don't want to help, maybe you know someone who can.....

The Forgotten One

Across the board, piece by piece he broke down all of my defenses.

Progress: Slow and steady.....

I went out to the barn yesterday to see my horse. She stood there in the snow staring for a few minutes looking at me. Then she moseyed over to say her usual hello. I had Pimpett in tow to try and show her how to lunge a horse. It didn't go so well, but I did make Pimpett ride Taya. Pimpett has a very solid foundation with great legs. Now we just need to get her hands to catch up. We'll get there

I'm so proud of Taya. She's come such a long way. My ego inflated when I had the best rider in the barn tell me," I've seen a lot of people ride her over the years and you're the only one she goes for like that." Wow! Did I mention this rider trains with the same people who train the Olympic team? Yeah, my head barely fits in my helmet now.

So here we are, moving along, doing our circles, and she begins to bend and take hold of the bit by flexing at the poll. Even better still she doesn't start to get heavy on her forhand, but instead listens to my cues from my legs to transition her weight back.

Now, the ante has been upped by our barn's star equestrian. She tells me I need to advance a level. I tell her we're not quite ready yet, but if there are any shows she's going to, I'd gladly get in the trailer with her. Well, in the end we compromised. Come October I will be showing at my first recognized show at Mystic Valley Hunt Club. I'm super excited, and I'm hoping to kick ass and take names. I know my girl can get me there.