My Etsy shop is officially up. I have only one reading for sale at the moment, but will be adding more soon.
I went to the barn today for another lesson. It was soooo warm. By the time I got off, Dusty was totally sweaty - which I was weirdly fascinated by. I'm used to working with dogs, who don't sweat, so a furry, sweaty critter just seemed so strange. I've been doing riding lessons for a little over a year now, but last summer was pretty mild up here, so I guess my lessons must've been on cool days last year.
I was really excited when I went out to pasture because once Dusty realized I was coming for him, he started walking up to me. But then, when I was putting on his halter, he stepped on my foot. Horses are highly aware of their feet - so he knew what I was doing. I said "OW" and whopped him on the shoulder. I'm not really sure what else I might've done in that situation. Made him back up really hard? Driven his front end away? Chased him around screaming and growling? (Alright, maybe not the last one...) He was being kind of a booger today. He seemed really twitchy when we first got into the barn. And I went riding down the lane with him and he kept trying to turn back, which I had to push through, and I eventually won. But once back in the arena, he kept fighting really hard against the bit - whenever we passed other horses, and I wouldn't let him stand by them. Whenever we passed the door. Whenever he just didn't feel like turning that way. He was being such a punk! I kept insisting on my way every time, and I won every time. I got him to circle around the arena finally, passing the other horses without a fight, passing the door without a fight, and passing the super interesting pile of barrels and buckets without a fight, so I decided to end it there and brush him off. I managed to win several difficult fights today, and I got to end it all on a good note without ever once getting frustrated, so I left the barn in pretty high spirits.
After leaving the barn with my friend, we got snacks, and then went to Fleet Farm to look at horse things. I got a head stall, snaffle bit, pretty reins, and horse treats. I have to leave them all in my car until I can get to the barn again - if my dad sees them, the tension will just go back up. As long as he thinks I've only spent $100 total on Dusty, I think he'll stay calm about it. I was trying to tell him a funny story about Dusty, hoping to endear him to the idea of my horse a little, but it didn't work. I told him how, when I was done riding, I took special care to brush Dusty off and make his mane all beautiful, and then as soon as I let him back out to pasture, he plopped down and rolled in a mucky mud streak, making him look like a brown horse. My dad just looked at me with that half-smile that really isn't a smile - a look that says, I want to call you an idiot, but I have too much self-control.
GAR!
Whatever.
The other day my mom found an old SD card that turned out to be mine. On it are mostly pictures of my friend Kayla and I goofing around in the woods. My proudest snaps are a series in which I'm demonstrating my stripper skills by climbing up a tree with no branches, holding onto it with my thighs, and hanging myself upside down. Which serves to remind me how much work I have to do on myself - I've slipped a lot in only two years. So that's my new fitness motivation - be able to hang upside-down on a stripper pole/tree again. :)
Also, I've developed a really nice routine with running and weight lifting. I used to hate weight lifting and never did it because it was 1. boring, and 2. I didn't want to bulk up. But I recently found out that regular weight-lifting can strengthen your bones, and since I want to be a really robust old lady, I've started doing my dad's "Spartacus" weight lifting routine. It's demanding on your muscle strength, but it also requires a high level of agility, so it keeps me from getting bored. Before running, I stretch - a mixture of my own positions, and my favorite yoga poses. After running I stretch. Then I lift weights. Then I stretch again. I do light stretching before bed, and I try to stretch in the morning when I first wake up, but I usually forget. My goal is to get back to the level of flexibility I had two years ago, as well as being able to do the splits. I read somewhere that doing the splits requires more than just flexibility - some people's body's are simply not built to do the splits because of the way the socket joint on their hip is angled. I don't remember being able to do the splits when I was a kid, so maybe I'm one of those people. I'm going to try anyway - I know how far I can push myself without getting hurt, so even if I don't manage the splits ever, I'll know that I've gotten myself to the extreme end of my capabilities, and that'll be satisfying.
- I guess I didn't "come out" to my mom about Paganism as clearly as I thought. I distinctly remember talking to her about religion and god and stuff, and telling her what I believed, but I must've never exactly used the word "Pagan." I said something about it yesterday and she was confused. In fact, she gave me a look like I was being weird on purpose. I HATE that. That's exactly why I didn't want to tell people. Now I'm wishing I'd just kept everything to myself.
- My cousin Kelly got married on Friday. The reception was at a beautiful park in Allouez. I get spazzy in crowded situations, so I left the pavilion/glass gazebo thing where all the eating and dancing was going on and took a walk along the East River trail. As I was walking, I passed this gorgeous, fit looking guy going for a run, who smiled really nicely and said hi to me. I may have to start running over there now. Never mind the drive across town.
- I'm going to see if my mom will come to my horse lesson next week, just to watch. My mom supports me with horses, but defers to my dad when it comes down to arguing about things. I think if she got to meet Dusty and saw me interacting with him, she'd be a more vocal supporter in my corner. Plus, she thinks horses are beautiful, so she'd probably like to meet him either way.
- I keep wavering between staying here and being sensible, and throwing all caution to the wind and moving with my friend. I think part of what keeps me from just throwing my arms up and rolling out to the big city is that it doesn't feel "dramatic" enough. Which is NOT a good reason to make decisions. I guess, if I was leaving my family and throwing out tons of money, I'd always kind of hoped it'd be because I was running off to NYC to pursue Big Dreams, or something. I need to go back to the days when sensible adults made all my decisions for me. Clearly, I should not be allowed to have any sort of authority.
- I just really want to have my own private acreage, 70% - 85% forested, with a snug little cabin, a pond, a big garden, and a barn. I'll live there with chickens, goats (or maybe sheep), dogs, and horses. Maybe a man, if he doesn't annoy me too much, or make too many demands on my time. Otherwise, he'll have to have his own place, and he can visit. And I'll have a gate on the driveway so nobody can come if I want to be left alone - only my friends and the family that I really like will have the passcode for the gate. The driveway will be lined with big, old hardwoods and the clearing around the house will be a beautiful meadow. I'll mow a bit of lawn around the house to keep the ticks down, and I'll lay down flagstone pathways to the barn, the pond, and to the trails I'll have cut through the woods. There'll be a cozy, wrap-around deck, and huge, airy windows filling up the southern wall. The landscaping will all be bright, happy, and kind of wild. I'll spend my mornings working on the home - daily upkeep, feeding/working with the animals, gardening, etc. I'll use my afternoons and evenings to write. But it'll all be flexible because writers really make their own hours. If my friends want to catch a movie, or go camping, or do some shopping - off I'll go. If I really feel like trail riding, or baking bread, or visiting family - I'll do it. Peace. That's what I want.
Gah! He's so beautiful!
Dusty and Charm having a snack together.
(They're both Paint horses, but Charm's the one who actually looks like a Paint.)
Anyways, I already eschewed all the sensible decisions - get new tires for Zelda, put it all in a high-yield savings account, pay a large chunk of my debts off...
*fights off sudden, overwhelming, panic attack*
So, instead, my remaining options became: get my Advanced scuba certification, get a horse, go abroad.
I fought really hard between the three of them. The fates kind of aligned so that "get a horse" became the option I selected. The trainer at the barn I go to had a beautiful buckskin paint gelding that she offered me. He has a hoof injury, so he wasn't getting worked as much as he could've been, and had basically become a pasture ornament. She let him go for $100, and she's also selling me a saddle that fits him well for $350. So I got a nice horse and some tack for $450. But now, he's going to have the calcium deposit above his hoof drilled out at the vet's, which is going to cost a couple hundred. I'm okay with it because still, at most, he's going to come out to the $1000 I had initially budgeted for a horse - and he has more training and more temperamental stability than any of the other horses I've looked at.
All in all, he was a good decision. He's slow enough for me to learn from, but he's also got a little get-up-and-go to keep me on my toes (as I learned the other day when he decided to kick it into high-gear for the hills we were riding up). He's a little introverted, but I like it. He seems to enjoy working and playing with me so far, and while he does sometimes lock-up when I ask him to do things he's not sure about, I'm looking forward to earning his trust and getting to the point where we can go anywhere and do anything together. I got him to go through the plastic, hangy-thing at the barn we call the "car wash" and I also got him to walk over a large tarp, both while I was riding him - so I know that he'll trust me if I'm patient and calm. I just have to try not to clam up when he's clamming up. One of us has to keep a level head, and that's going to have to be me.
I don't have any pictures to share, because I forgot to bring my camera on Monday when I paid for him - but I'll probably have some tomorrow. I put my camera in my purse, now I just have to remember to actually USE it.
After the EXCITING THING, I'm going over to a friend's apartment to get hammered and make obscene cookies. I'm not really sure what we're going to do with this cookies. Kayla wants to take pictures and put them on facebook. I'd, uh... I'd rather not have visual evidence of that kind of behavior floating around - even if most people already think that's how I spend my free time.
"Through research, hearing first-hand accounts, and my own personal experience, magic cannot alter a person’s free will if the propensity for that action was not already there. This is the same reason why the use of the legendary flying ointment could not truly occur, because the propensity for defying gravity does not exist. It is a fundamental law of nature and of physics, and magic does not go against the natural order of things.
Nope, sorry, but magic is not supernatural or extra-natural or para-natural. It is not above, below, around, or beside nature. It is nature. It is one of the most natural things in the world to do. As such, magic does not alter the forces of nature, but works with the possibilities already existing in the world to achieve a desired result. We can summon rain, because rain exists and it can rain in all parts of the world. We can increase our prosperity, because money exists and we can always earn more. We cannot turn an apple into an orange or lead into gold by magic, because the propensity for this action to occur in nature does not exist. Get it?"
Fire Lyte. "Love, Lust, and the Natural Order of Things." Witch's Voice. June 12, 2010. http://www.witchvox.com/va/dt_va.html?a=u
The entire article is very interesting, in that it deals with "Love Spells." Love Spells are a big draw to a lot of people - and at the Pagan/Witchcraft forum where I'm a member, we get people popping in all the time asking about love spells. They disappear pretty quickly when they find out that it isn't just lighting a candle, saying some rhyming words, and having all their wishes fulfilled.
The other kind of spell in hot demand from non-witches? Revenge spells. A fun topic for another day, perhaps.
1. wayfaring stranger
2. Wayfaring Stranger **
3. Wayfaring Stranger
4. Wayfaring Stranger
5. Wayfaring Stranger
6. Wayfaring Stranger **
7. Wayfaring Stranger
8. Wayfaring Stranger
9. Wayfaring Stranger
10. Wayfaring Stranger **
11. Wayfaring Stranger
They stop looking like words after a certain point. By number 6, it just reads like gobbly-de-gook.
I couldn't wait for next week - I got really excited by the question (likely because I'm friends with the querent...) Lately, I've been playing with my cards, a LOT. I've just been feeling really in tune with them this past week or so, getting readings that were just super spot on, and the meanings were coming to me so easily and clearly. I think part of it is that I no longer have to pretend I don't believe in what I'm doing. Another big part is probably just the more practice I get reading, the better I'm likely to become.
Anyways, onto the question:
"What skills will I need for my field of choice?" I'm hoping it will tip me off to what that field is.
This kind of question probably won't be very helpful unless you already know which particular field you want to go into. Otherwise, you'll most likely get a really general answer like, "good work ethic" or something - because your future, for the most part, is up to you. Until you make a decision and begin to move down a path, the cards are little help. They don't predict the future, but they can tell you where you're headed, and where you stand. I adjusted the question into:
"What kind of work requirements and environment would best suit me?"
That way instead of asking for a prediction of the future, you're asking for an evaluation of your strengths and desires (where you stand now) and how they would best translate into a career (the path you can choose to take).
The Moon
Ace of Wands - The Fool - The Emperor (reversed)
Essential - The Moon - You'll do best in a career that is highly creative and artistically oriented. Something that engages the far corners of your mind where fairy tales and nightmares mingle together, and allows you to bring those out and use them in your work.
Details - The Ace of Wands is all about being inspired, encouraged, excited. Wands are in the fire element, associating them with great passion (not of the heavy-breathing, heaving bosoms, romantic variety - but of the "lust for life" variety). Whatever you do needs to be something that absolutely consumes you, burns you up with your love for it. Some people are content to take jobs that are "suitable" so that they may finance their lives outside of work. But your work will be the sort of thing that you want to live all the time, something that occupies your thoughts day and night.
The Fool is all about freedom and novelty. Your work will be the sort of thing where you're always learning, always discovering. Things are always different - you'll always be encountering new challenges and different personalities. The Fool is often associated with travel - after all, the Fool himself is always traveling, his possessions on his back and his little dog at his side - therefore your ideal work could involve travel, movement, changes of scenery.
The Emperor in reverse indicates a resentment towards being managed. You'll want to be your own boss - you can control your hours, your goals, your actions, everything. Nobody gets to tell you what to do, except yourself. If you do work with others, it will be on equal footing. The Emperor in reverse suggests that while you don't like being managed by someone else, you are also uncomfortable with having to manage others.
Overall - The Moon says you'll do best in a creative position that relies heavily on your the artistic nature. However, because the Moon deals with the mind, and Wands often deal with intellectual pursuits, this job will have to engage and challenge your mind as well. The Ace of Wands adds that it'll be something that you absolutely love, and the Fool asks for something that allows for new challenges, new experiences to keep that brain clicking away, possibly involving travel. The Emperor in reverse says you'll want to be your own boss, working either alone or with equal partners.
So, as I am wont do when I feel a little trapped, I pulled out the tarot cards and asked: How will I find someone who fits me both emotionally and physically?
The Star - Seven of Swords reversed - Eight of Wands
One thing about this reading that struck me as kind of interesting, is that two of the cards in this spread are the same cards as Sunday's spread, but in different alignments. The dignified Star and the reverse Seven of Swords today, versus the reverse Star and the dignifed Seven of Swords on Sunday. I'm not really sure if there's a connection or meaning - but I did find it interesting.
Also, any followers of this journal are welcome to leave questions in the comments. Once a week I'll do a tarot reading, and if I have a good selection of questions, I'll randomly select one from the comments to do a three card spread.* If I'm getting the same questions/askers week after week, I'll simply do general questionss or post personal readings of my own.
*The following disclaimer is provided for legal purposes:
This entry is from my old blogger account. Before I delete that blog, I wanted to preserve this entry. (From May 22, 2010)
What you want to do and what you should do are probably two different things. The star in reverse is telling you that your hopes are too high right now. Use your practicality to understand what is currently within your means. The High Priestess says you know, deep down, what you should do. Listen to that inner voice. In fact - listen only to that inner voice - other people don't need to be involved. The Seven of Swords says to work alone, and be stealthy about it. The less people know, the more likely you are to succeed.
Seriously, I don't think I managed to get out a full sentence the whole time we were with her. I didn't find anything I wanted at the rummages today. I bought a blanket and some knitting needles simply because I didn't want to go home empty-handed. (Although, I think my blanket count might be getting a little high...) The only thing I found that I was actually excited about was this kid's book about an old lady who has a pet snake that her zoologist son sent her in the mail. It's really cute! I want to have kids just so I can read to them. And catch tadpoles. And do art projects. And play in the water. And the woods. Okay, I want kids for a lot of reasons. (Not in any hurry, here. Just hit that hormonal time of the month, I guess.)
Anyways, so my grandma spent all afternoon nattering on about the rugs she found at wal-mart, the frog-in-bikini yard statue that somebody made for her, Aunt Judy's health, etc... to the point that I just wanted to kill myself. On top of it, my grandma was driving. The arthritis in her knees makes it very painful for her to get in and out of my mom's truck, so we had to take her car. My grandma is a TERRIBLE driver. Not because she's older - she's always been a terrible driver. She brakes and takes off very abrubtly, she careens around corners like she's in a high speed car chase, and even when she's on a straight stretch of unchanging road, she'll accelerate and deccelerate randomly so that you get rocked back and forth in your seat. I thought I was going to puke at least fifteen times today.
Part of the reason I got skunked in the rummages is that my grandma likes to stick to her neighborhood for shopping. She lives in a nice area where the houses are small, and old. As a result, the residents are generally old ,and so when they have rummages it's usually just chock full of ugly ceramic cats, partially used lipsticks, Danielle Steele novels, polyester night gowns, macrame plant holders, and shabby wall hangings from the 1960's. On the few occassions we found rummages not hosted by the nearly-dead, it was ALL BABY STUFF. The only times I enjoyed myself today were at two different houses that both had old, friendly golden retrievers wandering the yard. I just pet the dogs and let my grandma talk my mom's ear off about how delightful the hideous little fruit-painted tea set is (don't you have enough freaking knick-knacks?!), or how she HAS to buy a new basketball for Nathan because his old one got run over (FYI Grandma, that "basketball" you bought was a soccer ball), or how she NEEDS a new vaccum (yeah, cause you've only got three working vaccums in the closet right now). She bought so many junky knick-knacks, a vaccum she didn't need, and 8 million toys for Keirsten and Nathan (and I know for a fact my Aunt does not want them having any more toys than they already do).
I know I sound like a terrible bitch. It was just a terrible bitch kind of day. I was really looking forward to rummaging, and all the ones we stopped at were just absolute junk. There were quite a few going on up in Howard that were in younger neighborhoods where I would've probably had more luck, but Grandma kept insisting that we were hitting good ones where we were.
That's another thing that drives me crazy about her - she won't listen to other opinions, and you can't ask for things subtly or politely with her. The only way I would've been able to get up to those Howard rummages would've been to DEMAND to go to them. When I say nicely that I'd like to check those ones out, she can't take the hint!
"Oh, but these ones are so good, honey."
"I'm not really finding anything, Grandma."
"Keep looking. You're just playing with dogs."
RAAAAAWRRR HULKSMASHGRANDMA!
Eurgh. I just needed to rant. Such a promising day ended up so frustrating. You can't tell your grandma to shut her trap, you can't wrestle your grandma for the right to drive, you can't tell your grandma not to waste her insulin money on ugly dust-collectors and cheap kids' toys. You just smile at your Grandma, pretend to listen, and try not to implode with supressed rage.
This is going to be really random and disjointed. Just roll with me.
- Before applying to a *business* (i.e. "psychic friends" or similar) maybe I'll try listing tarot readings on my Etsy account. Several people market new age services on etsy including, but not limited to, readings of several varieties (tarot, runes, crystal, psychic, etc.), spell workings, charms, etc. It would be a nice way to get my feet wet and develop my style/modus operandus.
- I think I should reconsider that free horse. There's no rule that says I can't have more than one horse (eventually), and Dusty would really be an excellent starter horse for me. Plus, once I become more proficient with this whole "horse thing" I can look into someone with a little more get-up-and-go, and Dusty would be a wonderful horse for friends and family to use when they're visiting me. And he's just a sweetie-pie who would make me happy. Part of the reason I passed on Dusty is because I was getting a little ambitious and expected to be doing a lot more right away. And, granted, when I have frequent access to something, I tend to pick it up very quickly. But that's really just all the more reason to get Dusty. He'll make the transition from novice to intermediate all the faster, because I'll have a patient, knowledgable horse to learn from.
- I was originally just going to wear something casual and hippie-ish with a slight gypsy feel this year to Ren Faire, because last year my corset was kinda killing me. But I have it on right now, and it looks gorgeous. I have to wear it. It cost an arm and a leg, and if my only opportunity to wear it comes once a year, then I really have to take advantage of that day. Plus, I just love my corset so much. Although, this year, I'm going to keep an eye out for a leather bodice. I also want a bigger version of the leather journal I got last year.
- I spent WAAAAAY too much money shopping on Wednesday. I always do with Kayla. She's got a trust fund, so she can spend away without a worry in the world, which puts me in some sort of shopper's high where I forget I don't have a trust fund to back up my card. Then the next morning I wake up with a terrible shopping hangover. This time, though, there's nothing I'm willing to return. I've wanted it all for a while... I just caved on all of it in one go. I got some ramekins finally, so I'm going to try making souffle soon. And a gorgeous little wooden jewelry hutch with colorful ceramic drawers. And two relatively expensive new-agey reference books (astrology and spell-working). And finally, MAC lipstick and shimmer cream. (I wish I could return them, but I opened them in the car and used them. Bah!) I'll have to include pictures later - my camera battery is charging.
- I'm rereading all of the Harry Potter books right now, and then I'm going to reread the Dark Materials trilogy. It'll only be about my 57th time rereading them both.
- I made banana bread today with organic bananas and organic flour. I don't know if it's the organicness of everything, or if it's just that I was really on my baking game today, but the bread tastes better than it ever has - and this is a tried and true family recipe.
- I might have a new tattoo soon. It depends on a few factors. Like if I ever decide which foot I want it on.
- I got to see an old friend on Tuesday who I haven't seen in almost three years. I kind of purposely let our friendship fade because we had both started growing in different directions, becoming very different people. But at this lunch, I had such a great time with her! I was sooo nervous to see her again (she's very ambitious and high-achieving, I'm very relaxed and kind of a slacker, and I was afraid she'd think I was a loser) but we ended up talking for hours, catching up - no awkward silences, no lulls. I'm so glad we reconnected because it made me remember all the great things about her, and now I'm so sad that I almost pushed her out of my life. But also happy that the universe saw fit to shove us back together. :)
- I need somebody to lurk around and tase me on the days I say I'm going to:
- write, and don't
- run, and don't
- find a new job, and don't
AARP held a contest two years ago called “U@50.” They asked for video submissions from people aged 18-30. The theme was supposed to be how the filmmakers saw their lives at the age of 50. While first place went to a student at Emerson College in Boston, the following video came in second. (It's less than 2 minutes long, and totally worth loading.)
I NEED to know the name of this armory shop. Because I may die if I don't get this.
Not the best picture, but I want a pair of these sooooo badly! (With the other tread they offer.)
Awesome gypsy costume.
Ren Faire offers more than just heaving bosoms, apparently.
Wow, that face. *stare*
But forget obnoxious, poorly trained, underexcercised dogs. What I really wanted to do was share some amazing horse quotes.
"When God created the horse, he said to the magnificent creature: I have made thee as no other. All the treasures of the earth shall lie between thy eyes. Thou shalt cast thy enemies between thy hooves, but thou shalt carry thy friends upon thy back. Thy saddle shall be the seat of prayers to me. And though fly without any wings, and conquer without any sword."
-The Qu'ran
"...and God took a handful of Southerly wind, blew his breath over it, and created the horse."
-Bedouin Legend
"And He whispered to the horse 'Trust no man in whose eyes you do not see yourself reflected as equal.'”
-Unknown
"My treasures do not chink or glitter, They gleam in the sun and neigh in the night"
-Bedouin Proverb
I know, people really want to know about my dog's bowels. I was just so worried about her. She was vomiting blood on Wednesday, but not very much. I kept almost calling the vet, but the fact that she seemed to be improving made me hold off. The minute I thought there was blood, I should've called the vet, but I wasn't certain if it was blood for one thing, and for another, my mom (who's not a vet, but does work in the medical field) said with all the puking she's been doing, she could have irritated or worn the lining in either her esophagus or stomach, and that could be the cause of the blood - in which case it's not life-threatening, and would heal when she stopped puking.
Also, Stan's being much more of a gentleman now. Part of it is probably that he's calmed down and adjusted to his new digs. But I really think a large part of it is that I'm consistent with him, and I'm pretty clear at communicating. If I don't like what he's doing, I let him know. But when I do like what he's doing, I also let him know. When I give a command (that he knows), I expect a timely response, and should he fail, I reinforce my expectation with either a physical reprimand or physical guidance. We get along good now. He's still kind of a psycho, and I'm glad he's not my dog.
But most of all, I'm just glad my little Scoutie is okay. I was so worried and stressed, I was constantly wavering between tears of complete despair, and blood-curdling war screams.
My dog, Scout, has a history of "innapropriate eating" (the vet's technical term for it, apparently). We had to have a $1000 surgery in the past to remove a hunk of corn-cob from her intestines so that she wouldn't die. If she finds trash, birdseed, or unsecured food (of dog, cat, or human variety) she will eat and eat and eat until she can physically no longer cram any more food into her body. This results in a hugely engorged, rock hard stomach - it's usually so bad, that she can barely breathe. She just lays on her side and makes this horrible whistling/wheezing sound, and I spend the whole day and night hoping and praying that she hasn't given herself bloat, or if she's gotten into trash - hoping that she hasn't eaten a plastic bag, or a bottle cap, or a something sharp that could cut her stomach to ribbons/require another expensive surgery. My dad has already said that he won't pay for another surgery to save her - he'll just have her put down. Obviously, I'd step in and use my own money, but godfuckingdamnit I would really like to actually KEEP some motherfucking money in my bank account for once.
Yesterday, I let her out to go potty, and she apparently wandered into the the garage where she found a bag of trash to eat. My brother had recently been to the house (while nobody else was home) and helped himself to pork chops, tater tots, biscuits, and hamburger cooked with onions and garlic. He ate very little of it, and dumped it all in the trash. Scoutie got to enjoy all of that food plus all the rotten goodies my mom had just cleaned out of the fridge. Long story short, she puked many, many times. I had taken her for a long walk that day, in which she ran around like a psycho, and my dad had thrown ball for her for quite a while. Full belly + hard excercise = perfect recipe for Bloat. While I was trying to do yoga, she puked up what looked like an entire roast. I got the carpet cleaner and cleaned that up, and as soon as I finished, she harked up another lake of barf. After that, we pinned her in kitchen. She seemed to be doing better, but was wheezing and breathing hard, and just laying on the floor like a beached whale. I let her out every twenty minutes, hoping she'd poop it out. Or that the activity would get her to barf up more. No such luck. I figured she was done for the night and went to take a shower. When I got out of the shower, my mom came and told that Scout had harfed in various places all over the living room. At 11 at night, I had to get the carpet cleaner and pick up yet more barf. It was smelly, it was thick, and WOULD NOT come out of the carpet. I had to refill the cleaning tank three times. I put her in her crate and went to bed. I spent the whole afternoon, evening, and night restless and worried that she had bloat and would die.
She woke me up at 4:30am with more puke. It appeared to have blood in it. Worried, I cleaned it up, let her outside, then put her back in the crate. I convinced myself she just ate something red. She puked again. There was red in it again. I cleaned it up again. She puked again. More red. At this point, I gave up trying to get any more sleep. I penned her in the kitchen and tried to find some breakfast. She puked a few more times. I realized, despite being ravenously hungry, there was no way I'd be able to eat. I'll spare you all the details, but this was probably the most disgusting puke I've ever had to pick up and smell in my life, and I've picked up a lot of dog barf, and a lot of little brother barf. This morning, I came upstairs, and the WHOLE upstairs smelled like vomit. I got the carpet cleaner out, and spent 3 hours cleaning the carpet.
The whole time this was going on, I have been dog-sitting my aunt's golden retriever, Stan. Stan is an incredibly energetic dog, with a lot of potential, but a short memory span, and owners who have not given him any firm expectations in terms of manners. He's about Scout's age and he still: jumps on people, puts his feet on counters, shoves his nose against your hands, and can't hold onto a command for more than two seconds. My aunt seriously thinks he's the smartest dog the world has ever beheld. She was teaching him to go through weave poles, and she was bragging to me how he follows her hand through the weaves, even when she's not holding a treat. (Guess what, Aunt Dawn - ALL DOGS DO THAT. You started him out with a treat, so it stands to reason that he's been trained to expect a treat for following your hand, Pavlov-style. He's not a canine genius.) He aggravates me, because he could be a really great dog, but so little is being expected of him, and she's not firm enough with him. She'll tell him "Down. Stan, down. Down, Stan. DOWN. Down Stan!" And I just want to grab him and throw him to the ground. That's what you're supposed to do! He's not going to learn if you don't MAKE HIM OBEY YOU!! Because of her un-assertive training, he doesn't respect anybody, unless they throw him down. I constantly have to physically reinforce commands with him, and even then, after two seconds, he thinks he no longer has to obey. I'll tell him "get!" when he's crowding me (WHICH IS ALL THE TIME) and he'll go away, but come right back and stick his wet, disgusting nose all over my hands, even though I always whack his snout for that. I'll tell him down when he's being too rambunctious, and he'll pop right back up after a 1-second down. I tell him "quiet" and he continues to bark. I'll tell him "no" for anything, and he'll persist in doing it after just a breif flash of obedience. Just now he peed downstairs. After I did all that carpet cleaning upstairs, and mopped the kitchen floor, I had to haul that fucking machine downstairs and clean up Stan's piss.
And then, Hunter, who I thought was my only comrade in all this misery (he hates young dogs), decided to piss me off the most. I let all the dogs out to pee when I had finally finished cleaning the carpet upstairs. While they were doing their thing, I went downstairs to grab my notes for a story I'm reworking, so I could sit on the deck in the sun and continue working. When I got upstairs, after maybe 10 seconds of being away, Stanley was the only dog in the yard. I couldn't see or hear Hunter or Scout. I got the whistle and started tweeting for them. Scoutie came back after a minute. She always sticks close to Hunter, so I know Hunter was close enough to hear that goddamn whistle if Scout was. Hunter did not come back. I whistled and whistled and whistled. I walked back to the clearing and whistled. I walked back to the train tracks and whistled. No dice. I went over the the pond where the wood ducks hang out - no hunting dog in sight. I got the four-wheeler and went down to the train bridge where that dead deer that Hunter likes to eat is. No Hunter. I rolled all around the woods, whistling and calling and giving myself a migraine. No Hunter. I spent two hours, at least, looking for him. I finally gave up, my stomach in knots. Hunter's tags have our old phone number on them, so even if somebody finds him, they won't be able to call us.
I get back to the house, and guess who's on the fucking deck, sunning himself like a super model on the beach? I couldn't yell at him, because he had come back, and why would he want to come back in the future if I just scream at him, but at the same time, I was so angry, I probably would've shot him if I had a gun.
I've had my feet stepped on incessantly by hyper, wound-up, disobedient dogs. I've had my hands slobbered every time I hold one more than an inch away from my body. I've had my ears barked directly into by dogs who just suddenly noticed OH MY GOD THERE'S A CHICKADEE ON THE DEC
I spent all night, wanting to cry because I thought my little girl puppy was going to die of bloat. I spent all day cleaning up the nastiest puke I've ever dealt with, and still wanting to cry because she was throwing up blood. When I thought I could finally relax, I spent hours chasing down a rogue labrador who decided to take himself for a walk without so much as a bark goodbye, and who then decided he was too good to come when called. I've spent all the time in between wrestling with a poorly-trained, under-excersized retriever who doesn't know the difference between his ass and his head.
I've been firm, and I've been patient, and I've been consistent.
I'm ready to kill some fucking dogs.
**EDITED to add:
Normally my dogs aren't this poorly behaved. Obviously if this was a daily issue, the fault would be mine - but no, they're normally much better. Part of it is probably because Stan is here, but it's also way worse than that. It's like there's a full moon/solar eclipse/total planetary alignment/earthquake coming, or something, because the animals are being psychotic beasts.
So I'm thinking, I'll just keep a stock of fruit and veg for myself, buy whole-fat yogurt, and get whole-fat milk from my friend. My dad's been talking about chickens lately, so I think he might let me get some chickens, and then I'd have farm fresh eggs as well. Plus, I've got my garden, so I'll have lots of fresh veggies this summer.
I think I'm going to split the garden into three parts. I'll have a large section of tomatoes, strawberries, and others for canning. And then I'll have a "salad" section, with lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, all the things I like on salads. (I wish I could grow the delicious French dressing we have at work.) And then finally, I'll have a "winter" section with a bunch of storable veggies - squash, potatoes, turnips, etc. It's going to be a really big garden, I think. I started digging some of it a while ago, but I'll probably have to add on.
It's been pointed out to me that this is technically a form of disordered eating. I don't need to to go to a clinic or anything, but I definitely have an unhealthy relationship with food. I often use it as a reward or a reassurance. If I did something great - wrote a lot of pages that day, made a big payment on one of my debts, any sort of accomplishment - I treat myself with a "snack." If I had a miserable day - a hard day at work, lost something I loved, really effed something up - I comfort myself with a "treat."
I've been so stressed out lately, that every little thing has seemed to merit a treat, and so my diet has consisted largely of food from work (a heavy German restaurant - there's not a healthy thing on the entire menu except the salad bar), and processed, packaged, chemical-laden junk from the grocery store or gas station. I don't think, in the past month, I've had a whole day of solid meals. I've had a solid meal here and there, but it's shortly after ruined by a meal consisting of Sprite, Tostitos with taco dip, and a brownie.
I made chocolate chip cookie dough the other day, and instead of baking it, I started eating it. And not just a lick off the spoon, or whatever, but actually digging in and deciding I wasn't going to make cookies - I'd just eat the dough. But the thing was, the dough didn't taste that good. I thought it was too sweet and floury. But I kept eating it! When I started to feel sick, I put it in the pantry so I could eat more later. Even though I wasn't particularly enjoying it, and I was sick to my stomach at the time from eating too much of it. I'd like to say I had an epiphany then, but no. I had a bunch of junk food in the pantry because my parents were out of town, so I wouldn't have to listen to the guilt-trip from my dad about eating junk food - and I mowed through that stuff all through the weekend.
I'm begging to notice adverse effects. (Wow, what a surprise!) Weirdly enough, I haven't gained any weight (I am heavier than I should be, but that's Holiday weight I never got rid of). I think it's probably because my diet has been so completely void of any sort of actual nutrition that I've been burning through the fat and sugar in the crap I eat in effort to stay alive. But weight gain is really the least of it. My skin has been terrible, I've especially been breaking out around my mouth, and I have horrible, deep bags under my eyes. I can't fall asleep at night, and I can't wake up in the morning. I usually drift off around 2am and wake up between 11am and noon. I've also been having vision problems, particularly with my night vision. I've always had trouble driving at night - the headlights of oncoming cars tend to blind me. In extreme darkness, with no other lights, I see quite well, but if you were to have a light aimed at me in the darkness, I'd be completely and utterly blind. But lately, in addition to being blinded by other headlights, I'm also having trouble with street lamps and the light from buildings. My own headlights, while illuminating the road in front of me, make the darkness ahead seem impenetrable. In fact, my headlights make all the darkness around me seem like a complete void, and I feel like I'm driving through empty space, which in turn gives me vertigo. I was getting so dizzy driving home from work two nights ago, that I had to pull over and take a breather.
Even with the bad side-effects, I never had an epiphany of, hey, I shouldn't be eating like this. I knew it all along. I just finally decided to stop. Yesterday, I did some yoga, and I realized how unflexible I've become. And then I went for a walk with my dogs, and I realized how much I enjoy being active, and I felt ashamed because my body's not at all in the condition I like to keep it in. I've been abusing my body with poison and lethargy, and as a result I've been messing up my natural rhythms and making my stress worse. The fact is, part of my emotional imbalances are probably a direct result of my poor health. If I were healthier physically, I might become healthier mentally, and then be better equipped to deal with the outside world. If I don't change, I'm going to become a bed-ridden tub of lard. I can't do the things that make me happy when my body is like this. Not to mention, diabetes and cancer are both prevalent in my family history, and both can be prevented by healthy diet and activity levels.
Time to stop. Time to make the me on the outside reflect the me on the inside.
http://www.time.com/time/specials/packag
This article is called "The Dropout Economy" and it talks about how current political systems and education systems are failing, and that the counter-culture movement (libertarians, anarchists, communes, nomads etc.) is gaining strength as young middle-class people are choosing to forgo school in favor of living off the land, leaving the rat-race behind, and by-and-large, changing society and the world as we know it. I think it's a little optimistic in terms of the reality of the situation, but it's something I hope is possible. I would love to see the world discussed in this article. It's a good read for anyone questioning traditional life plans - college, 9-5 job, a house in the suburbs, etc.
Here're my favorite bits:
"Middle-class kids are taught from an early age that they should work hard and finish school. Yet 3 out of 10 students dropped out of high school as recently as 2006, and less than a third of young people have finished college. Many economists attribute the sluggish wage growth in the U.S. to educational stagnation, which is one reason politicians of every stripe call for doubling or tripling the number of college graduates.
But what if the millions of so-called dropouts are onto something? As conventional high schools and colleges prepare the next generation for jobs that won't exist, we're on the cusp of a dropout revolution, one that will spark an era of experimentation in new ways to learn and new ways to live."
And
"Imagine a future in which millions of families live off the grid, powering their homes and vehicles with dirt-cheap portable fuel cells. As industrial agriculture sputters under the strain of the spiraling costs of water, gasoline and fertilizer, networks of farmers using sophisticated techniques that combine cutting-edge green technologies with ancient Mayan know-how build an alternative food-distribution system. Faced with the burden of financing the decades-long retirement of aging boomers, many of the young embrace a new underground economy, a largely untaxed archipelago of communes, co-ops, and kibbutzim that passively resist the power of the granny state while building their own little utopias."
And
"This transformation will be not so much political as antipolitical. The decision to turn away from broken and brittle institutions, like conventional schools and conventional jobs, will represent a turn toward what military theorist John Robb calls "resilient communities," which aspire to self-sufficiency and independence. The left will return to its roots as the champion of mutual aid, cooperative living and what you might call "broadband socialism," in which local governments take on the task of building high-tech infrastructure owned by the entire community."
All quotes from: Reihan Salam, "The Dropout Economy," The Times. Mar 11, 2010.
I'll stop before I quote the whole article. It's fairly short, but perfectly encompasses everything I've been thinking about these days. As soon as I get my debts paid, maybe I can finally cut my strings to this failing institution.
I talked to my dad this morning, and he was telling me how it was my kind of place. He can see the ocean from his hotel, and there're surfers and people reading on the beach, and there's a long boardwalk where people go running with their dogs. He went running early this morning, and in the distance he could see all these white things coming towards him from way down the beach. It was still dark out and he couldn't hear anything except the crashing waves - he thought a flock of shorebirds was about to attack him. It turned out there's a naval base close to his hotel, and the white things were the t-shirts of the all the SEALS doing their morning excercises.
Surfing, reading on the beach, and fit men in uniforms? Yes, I believe I'll start packing my bags for San Diego. (Although, what would I do in the winter? I don't think there're a lot of ski hills in SoCal. Or even a lot of snow, for that matter.)
Oh, money, you fickle friend. I love you when you are with me, but when you are away, you are my most hated enemy.
A horse may have to be pushed off for a few months.
1. Scout's due for just about every vaccine under the sun, plus I need to buy some Heartguard and Frontline now that it's warming up. That's not going to be cheap.
2. I have a $175 traffic fine for driving an unregistered vehicle. I'm crossing my fingers and praying to the powers-that-be that the judge will show some mercy and toss out the fine since I renewed my registration like a good little girl. Unfortunately, I can't depend on that, so I have to treat my money as if I have $175 fewer dollars than my bank account actually contains.
3. I really should get new tires. I was driving in the rain the other day, and I hit a puddle that nearly threw me off the road. My traction control got all jacked up and the car slowed way down, and I was afraid that I'd really done her in this time. Fortunately she recovered, and the traction control locked back on. But still...
4. I still owe $1200 to school. I called and negotiated a payment plan, so luckily I don't have to fork out that whole chunk at once (which would really, really suck, considering I don't currently have the much to my name, even if you count the available credit on my credit card) but I've got to pay $100 a month until that's all paid off. $100 for school payments, plus $130 for credit card, and then top it off with $150 for boarding a horse? I could swing it, but I'd have very little left over for all my other expenses - gas, animal care, cell phone, car insurance, horse lessons, things that entertain me (art supplies, thrifting and rummage saling, adventuring), and miscellaneous expenses... Criminy, how do I manage as it is? I really need a new job.
5. I've been looking at horses for a price that fits into my range, when really, I should be saving up more money for a higher quality* horse. Obviously, I'll still have a spending cap, but right now that spending cap is way too low for a horse that really suits my needs. (Unless I go with the adoption, route, which is still an option I won't throw away - but all the strings that come attached to an adoption really bother me. I want the horse to be MINE and I don't want to be obligated to an organization for its care and treatment. I would take good care of any animal in my trust, but I know I'll get pissy about having to prove I'm taking care of it.)
“Whatever relationships you have attracted in your life at this moment, are precisely the ones you need in your life at this moment. There is a hidden meaning behind all events, and this hidden meaning is serving your own evolution.”
-Deepak Chopra
Please let this be true. I need to believe in something besides chaos.
I'm getting ready to make her eat the apartment listings, and that's just from an afternoon of driving around together. Living together...? Probably not going to work. Which is fine, actually, because the more I think about it, the more I can't afford it. I want to buy a horse, and I've got some debt I want to get paid down, and I'm trying to save up for flight school. It's probably stupid to be throwing away $250 a month (or more, if S gets her way). The things that were motivating me to move out were mostly cowardly:
I wanted to come clean to my parents about my schooling changes, but didn't want to deal with the inevitible yelling and screaming, so I figured I'd move out, tell them my plans, and then skedaddle to the safety of my apartment. Every day my dad asks about how the "teaching program" I'm supposedly enrolled in is going. So I have to keep feeding the lie by making up shit about classes I'm not attending and so on. So when I finally do come clean, it's not all the money that's going to enrage him (although that will undoubtedly be a significant factor) it's all the lying. I hate it so much, but I'm too cowardly to deal with the consequences of the truth.
But, in small part, healthy:
1. I'm getting too old to be living at home. In a year or two, I'm going to be at that age where it's like, "Oh... you still live with your parents?"
2. I live so far from all my friends and all the things I like to do. If I moved into the city, I'd go out more, see my friends more, go to the barn more...
3. I need my independence. I love my parents, and I have a great relationship with them (except for all the lying I'm doing and the control issues my dad has). My dad and I have the same sense of humor and similar hobbies, and my mom and I can talk about nearly anything - but it's driving me up a wall to be treated like a five-year old when I'm old enough to drink, vote, join the military, get married, run for government office... All those things I'm capable of, and yet I still get my dad telling me when I should go to bed and wake up, asking me how much I've run this week, telling me I shouldn't eat things, demanding information about my personal life like he's entitled to know what I do with every minute of my life...
God, I need to get out, and yet it doesn't make sense to go just now.
Damn you heathen! Your book learnin' has done warped your mind. You shall not be invited next time I sacrifice a goat.
Do You Have Biblical Morals?
Take More Quizzes
1. My uncle once: raced dirtbikes.
2. Never in my life: have I been able to commit.
3.When I was five: my family lived on foodstamps.
4. High School was: wasted years. (I should've done more.)
5. I will never forget: how to ride a bike.
6. I once met: a bunch of Germans. I was in Germany - go figure!
7. There’s this girl I know who: is getting married.
8. Once, at a bar: I was bored.
9. By noon, I’m usually: eating lunch.
10. Last night: I worked, and my legs still hurt like hell.
11. If only I had: more money.
12. Next time I go to church: may be for a wedding.
13. Terry Schiavo: is none of my business.
14. What worries me most: is my debt.
15. When I turn my head left, I see: a wall.
16. When I turn my head right, I see: a really messy bed.
17. You know I’m lying when: you can't tell. I'm a pretty honest person, but if I really feel like lying, I'm good at it.
18. What I miss most about the eighties: No responsibility, at all.
19. If I was a character in Shakespeare, I’d be: Robin Goodfellow (Puck).
20. By this time next year: I'll have an agent and a book deal.
21. A better name for me would be: I've gotten pretty well accustomed to Heather, but because my name is apparently forgettable, I also answer to Heidi, Holly, and Megan. I've also been told I "look like a Megan."
22. I have a hard time understanding: swahili.
23. If I ever go back to school, I’ll: become a pilot.
24. You know I like you if: I make an effort to see you/talk to you.
25. If I ever won an award, the first person I’d thank would be: my loved ones.
26. Darwin, Mozart, Slim Pickens & Geraldine Ferraro: Ed McMahon!
27. Take my advice, never: take no for an answer.
28. My ideal breakfast is: corned beef hash with eggs.
29. A song I love, but do not own is: Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen.
30. If you visit my hometown, I suggest: going swimming at Bayshore Park, and then walking up the hill to the Frosty Tip for ice cream!
31. Tulips, character flaws, microchips, & track stars: are all plural.
32. Why won’t people: let me do whatever the hell I want?
33. If you spend the night at my house: I will cobble together a floor bed for you, make you play board games, and serve some sort of alcohol.
34. I’d stop my wedding for: my true love, who bursts into the church at just the right moment and, framed in the light from the rose window, will stride down the aisle and say softly, yet determinedly, "I object." And then he'll challenge my fiance to a duel at dawn for my hand in marriage, which he'll win. And then, with his torn short fluttering in the wind, displaying a broad, strong chest, I'll run to him, and we'll never be torn apart again. (You see, we were parted in the first place by the terrible lies my former fiance told me in order to trick me into marrying him, instead.)
35. The world could do without: socialite celebrities.
36. I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: a turd.
37. My favorite blonde is: my little cousin Keirsten.
38: Paper clips are more useful than: those toy puppies that bark and do backflips.
39. If I do anything well, it’s: procrastinating.
40. And by the way: I'm procrastinating right now!
Oh look, my sexy cowboy husband is waiting for me on the porch. ^^
"Cody is a 9 year old TB/Mustang cross gelding. He stands at 15 hands tall, is great for the vet and farrier and has no problems leading, loading or tying. Cody has been in the same home since he was rescued from a large neglect case when he was 3 months old. He has always been a fun, safe and reliable horse and was only given up for financial reasons. Since his rescue 8 years ago, he has always had excellent care and has been loved and ridden a lot. Cody is a veteran riding horse with many many hours under saddle, most of them on the trails. He crosses water, bridges and has been safe to ride on the roads. He is a horse just about anyone with a little time under saddle can ride and has even been used for lessons with the kids. Cody has been kept on Corta-Flex for the past few years, but has no other special needs or limitations. He is super playful, loves people and is very easy to like and get along with. Someone is going to get a great horse!"
I WANT HIM!!
***Edited to add:
Okay, so I keep going to the rescue site and looking at him and convincing myself that I'm in love with him, but I have three major concerns:
1. How would I get him? I don't have a horse-trailer, and I don't know anybody who does.
2. Where would I keep him? I'd like to think I could keep him at the barn where I go for lessons, but what if Shirley doesn't have space for any more horses? Or just doesn't want to accept a strange one into her herd, sight unseen.
3. Why is he on cortaflex? He must have bad joints, right? Is that going to limit what I can do with him, and the longevity of his activeness?
Maybe I'll print it out and ask Shirley what she thinks next time I have a lesson. I looked Cortaflex up online for prices... it's kind of expensive. $432 for 5 gallons! Admittedly, that's a two-year supply, but still... we give glucosamine and chondroitin to our dogs and it's not nearly as expensive. And I'm talking dollars to ounces, not the cost of the packages compared. Oh well, I'll sleep on it. As much as I'd like to have a horse, like, TOMORROW, it's not an urgency.
***UPDATE***
After talking to Shirley, I decided not to pursue him. And the more I think about it, I need to build up a little better financial net before I invest in a horse, anyway.
More to come, later, I'm sure.
Urgh! I want to be doing this right now, on my own plot of land, deep in the woods, on my own little self-sustaining farmette. Hopefully I'll be able to do a load bearing strawbale, with interior walls made of cob. I want a wrap-around porch, with the southern porch roof being a pergola for vines to grow on (grapes, peas, or something edible, I think. Although I might go all impractical and do wisteria, lol). And maybe the northern section of the porch could be enclosed with a half-wall and large screen windows so that it'll be cool and bug-free in the summer, and provide a break-wall against the cold northern exposure in the winter. With a living roof to top it all off. And then I'd have big windows in the south wall for passive-solar heating. Ahhh... dreams. Someday, I swear, they'll come true. (Maybe not the one where I win the lottery, but I'm still crossing my fingers anyway.)
I started a tumblr where I collect images/videos pertaining to natural home construction and sustainable home methods, but I think I'll just start collecting that stuff here. I don't find enough to really justify an entire blog devoted to it. At least, not enough that satisfies me on all counts.
Reasons to go this summer:
1. I just want to get it done! I've wanted to be a pilot for so long, and thought about it for so long, only to tell myself that it's not an option. And now that I've decided, YES it is an option, I just want to throw myself into it with complete abandon. I've bounced around from major to major, from career plan to career plan, with no real feeling of excitement or passion for any of them and now that I'm finally passionate about something, I just want to do it so badly! The sooner I finish my schooling, the sooner I can start an actual career, instead working these horrible, menial jobs.
2. I'm afraid if I don't go now, I never will. Like I'm playing chicken with myself.
3. My friend is under the impression that we're rooming together this summer. If I flake out on her, it will be about the 80th time I've done so. I'd be pissed at her if she kept doing that to me.
Reasons to wait a year:
1. I can save up money beforehand, instead of struggling to scrap cash together throughout the program - or worse yet, not have enough cash, and end up having to drop out.
2. When I decided to enroll in the program, I missed the deadlines for almost every scholarship I found for aviation. If I wait a year, I can apply for those scholarships this time around.
3. I can be certain that I will continue to go to the barn for lessons, since I'm in the same place that I have been.
4. If I get a publisher/sign a contract between now and then, money won't be as much of an issue.
5. God, I really hate the horrible city that the flight school is in.
It seem like the scales are tipped in the favor of stay and save money, but somehow I just can't make up my mind. ERGH.
On the more positive side of life, I've decided to really focus on getting healthy again. In the past, I've made diet changes all about losing weight, and that's inherently self-destructive because you're basing your entire food relationship on the idea that you're not good enough. Instead, my focus will be to eat foods that are good for my body. It will make me feel good for taking care of myself, and the end result will be healthier food = better figure.
I had a really good day today. Yogurt for breakfast, raspberries and cheese for lunch, a peice of cold haddock for afternoon snack and some beef with tomato sauce for dinner. I was going to run today but I clipped one of my toe-nails WAY too short this morning, and now my toe is just throbbing. Hopefully in a day or two, I'll be back on the treadmill. I'm being a little naughty right now, because I'm supposed to be writing and eating healthy, but I'm having chocolate and procrastinating with my livejournal. My defense? This chocolate has been in my drawer for a week - if I don't eat it, it'll go bad! (Right...) And, uh, I have no excuse for procrastinating. Off I go to write, write, write.
This summer I'll be moving to another city to start the aviation program. The program is only two years long, and the drive to my friends' is only being lengthened by about 15 minutes, but I still feel like I'm leaving a lot behind. Will I see my friends as much? Will I still go to the barn for lessons? I have to get over it, though. It's important to me to have a degree. And once I finish the aviation program, I can transfer for a bachelor's degree to the state school in the same city, and do most of my classes online - which means I can move back to GB. And if I finish up my manuscript soon, manage to find an agent, and manage to sell said manuscript, money won't be as much of a limiting factor in my life anymore. I'm not deluded about the levels of wealth involved in writing - I'm not expecting great riches. Just a little easing of the current burden. That would be nice.
But, back to flight school. I'm so excited, I practically vibrate every time I think about it. The only problem? How in the hell am I supposed to come up with $7000 by June? Given a year, no problem. But five months? Er...
That's the problem with being a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants (har! see what I did there?) kind of person. When I make sudden decisions, it leaves very little time to prepare for the consequences. It's worked out for me so far, but not without some drawbacks. For example, my accumulated debt. Which is only going to worsen, thanks to this expensive program. And in all honesty, I've become sort of used to it. So the debt doesn't worry me. But I hardly qualify for loans, and even if I work two full-time jobs until June, I'm not sure that I'll have the sum I need.
Money, you horrible dream-crusher. You won't best me. I'll hook if I have to.
For a while I wanted to be a pilot, but the program's so expensive - and the closest school that offers a degree is in a city I vowed never to return to. (It sounds dramatic, I know, but I was completely in earnest about that vow.) So I decided to be practical and instead go to - much more affordable - culinary school and potentially start up my own bakery/used book store. And as much as I still love that idea, I loathe the idea of spending all my days in a hot kitchen, and all my nights poring over the ledgers. I work at a restaurant where my bosses are the owners, and when I see how much of their lives are given up for their business... there's no way I could ever do that to myself. So then I figured I'd just stick with the school I'm at, pick some cake degree, like Art or Humanities, and try my darndest to be succesful at writing. (Regardless of where I go in my life - working as a full-time writer is still dream number one.)
So every time I tried to be practical and debate between the bakery idea, and the lame degree idea, all I could think about was flying. All the sudden I was seeing flying everywhere. My favorite TV shows all had episodes involving airplanes. TV Shows I watched by accident were doing the same. People around me would say something completely random, and it would remind me of flying. (Jim: "That guy was the size of a bus." Me (in my head): "Airbus.") Instead of visiting the usual websites online, I'd spend hours looking at various airplane manufacturers' sites. Instead of daydreaming about a story I wanted to write, or a boy I wanted to kiss, I'd think about flying.
So finally, I decided. Clearly, I want to be a pilot badly. So I just need to grit my teeth, commit to a plan, and stick to it, come hell or high water. I've already found several places that offer aviation scholarships - including two organizations dedicated to women in aviation. I have a potential full time job lined up until I move back to *dreaded city's name redacted* to start the program. In fact, living in *dreaded city* won't be all that bad, because I'll have my darling dog and I'll be roommates with one of my best friends in the world. Plus, this guy I used to have a thing with in high school is apparently newly single. (Being delusional, I definitely take this as a sign that I need to return immediately, bash him over the head with a club, and drag him back to my cave. *ahem* I mean, text him and see if he wants to hang out.)
So that's that. It's decided. Hopefully I'll get this full time job, working second shift. Because then I could get a second job during the first shift at this vet clinic in a town close to my house.
I just hope things work out.
Fuck that. Things will work out. I am one determined bitch and I can move mountains when I set my mind to it. This will happen for me.
Today alone, I made really delicious manicotti. I'm going to play with the recipe until I've got it perfect. Next time, I'm going to use more mozzarella, less manicotti, and more pesto. I'll add a little italian sausage, too, I think. Although that might make it into canelloni instead of manicotti. I'm not really sure what the rules are, here.
For dessert I made an "Italian Love Cake." It's chocolate cake topped with a sweet ricotta mixture, and then frosted with a chocolate whipped topping. I didn't have half the things the recipe called for, so I did what I could. The recipe called for chocolate cake box mix. I didn't have any, so I made a chocolate cake from scratch (which turned out delicious! I'm such a genius when my "wing-it" recipes turn out). My scratch batter was incredibly liquidy. I realized then that the Love Cake recipe called for box mix because of the batter's thickness. There was no way my ricotta mixture could sit on top of my scratch batter - it all sunk to the bottom. Another problem I encountered was that my cake cooked for a much shorter time than the ricotta mixture needed. When it came out of the oven, the cake was delicious and lovely, but the ricotta mixture was a little heavy and kind of eggy. I'm not sure if it's because of the amount of eggs (it calls for three) or if the egginess fades when it's actually cooked for the full hour it needs - ON TOP of the cake, rather than at the bottom. I'll definitely try to work that one out another time. Finally, the frosting called for 1 cup of milk, 1 package of instant chocolate pudding, and a small tub of cool whip. I only had milk. If I had whipping cream, I could've made my own whipped topping (which I much prefer, anyway), but I didn't. So it was a Naked, Inverted, Italian Love Cake.
Tomorrow I'll be making Split Pea Soup. On Thursday I'll be making petits fours and cheese fondue for a New Year's Eve party with my friends. I want to dip french bread cubes (among other things) in the cheese fondue, so I'm thinking of trying my hand at making my own french bread (especially since I've got all the necessary ingredients in the house). If it doesn't turn out, or I run out of time, I can always pick up some baguettes at the grocery store.
Even when I spend hours upon hours in the kitchen, I really enjoy myself. That just tells me more and more that I should go to culinary school.
warm, bare, length of you.
throat to the planes of your chest.
I want to run my fingers through your sleep-mussed
morning breath and we both agree to brush our teeth.
From "Santa" (a.k.a. Mom and Dad):
- Snowshoes
- 3 nice sweaters
- LOST (season 5)
- 1 Lift Pass to Ski Brule
- A gas card to Shell gas stations
Other Family:
- A nice checked, button-up shirt. (Aunt D & Uncle S)
- A sweater (Gma S & Gpa P)
- Cabernet-style wine glasses (giftcard from Gma E & Gpa N)
- Gorgeous Lucky Brand purse (Kayla)
- To Be Determined... (Secret Santa)
The problem?
I am BROKE. Flat broke. I've got just enough money to refill my gas tank and pay off this month's credit card bill. There's no way I'm going to scrape together enough money for first month's rent and the security deposit before someone else snaps the place up.
Fuck.
On the bright side, I've seen this same place listed several times, so it's possible that they're having trouble renting it out, and it may be still available in a month or so. Of course, that in itself brings up more problems. Why is it not getting rented? Is it ugly inside? Is the landlord a freak? Do they have really, really strict requirements of their renters?
We'll see, I guess.
This whole "saving money" thing isn't being helped by the fact that every other day I think of a new thing I need to buy. I got my brother's old snowboard, but the boots are too big, so I have to buy snowboarding boots, and probably new bindings as well. I need new jeans, because all the pairs I have now are either too big, too small, or too ugly. (That would be three pairs, I'm not a hoarder.) Eventually I'm going to have to cave and buy new tires. I need a new battery for my laptop - so it can be a laptop again, instead of a desktop. I want to get a new tattoo to cover up The Stupid One. I want to get a horse of my own, plus lessons with the horse, plus boarding at a stable. My mom is getting a new truck within the next year or two, and I want to buy the Tundra from her. And, finally, I want to start going to Kennel Club again in January, and since I forgot to turn in my membership application, I have to restart as a trainee which costs just shy of $200.
Hooking is starting to appeal more and more every day.
Scout. She's so fucking cute.
Hunter is part white-tail deer.
Scout is both crazy and adorable. I like it.
She's also extremely vigilant. Scout's brain: "Danger!"
(Okay actually, it's more like "Where the hell did Hunter go?")
serius artz
I like uncertainty. I like having a blank canvas. It's when I have demands and plans and requirements, that I start freaking out. I refuse to do what I don't want to (unless it's going to land me in jail... hello, credit card debt). For the first time in a long time, I've got a thousand avenues open to me, and I could go down any one in a thrice. I'm sick of worrying about money, so I'm not going to anymore. It's a necessary evil. When I need it, I work for it. When I don't, I forget about it.
The sun is shining, there's snow on the ground, and I have an open road in front of me.
I snapped it up. My girlies want to get together for New Year's - when better to have some lovely fondue? Especially since there'll be no boys around for midnight kisses. I can get as cheese-breathed as I like.
The other wonderful thing?
My dad looked at my tires and said, "Well, if it were me, I'd drive on them." Joy! Unfortunately, he added that he'd prefer his daughter was safe and got new tires. But at least I know that it's not ridiculous to hold off on buying new ones. Suck on that, money! I have foiled your nefarious plot to escape my bank account!
For now, I am content to eat my cake and work on Nathan's Christmas scuba diver. It will be magnificent if I ever actually put needle to thread.
The good news is, my mom doesn't work outside the house, so I can usually borrow her truck. So, if the roads get really bad before I can afford the tires, there's that option. Although, she's kind of a bitch about sharing, so I'll probably only be allowed to use it for school, and even then I'm going to have to beg.
Things to be happy about:
1. I have lots of great crafting ideas to entertain me, since I can't go anywhere once the snow really starts flying, and I can't afford to do anything else, besides.
2. I can go running on the treadmill whenever I want to go for a drive, and then I'll be super fit.
3. I can walk my dogs, when I want to go for a drive, and then they'll become super fit, too.
4. I can climb trees in the woods to supplement my desire for pole dancing lessons.
5. Now I have the motivation to hunt in earnest for a better job.
6. If I'm not driving around as much, I'll have more opportunity to write, and maybe actually meet the deadline I've set for myself.
It's like every time I save a little money, a million things come up out of nowhere to suck it all away. I feel like I'm never going to get out of here - I'm never going to be independent because I can't even afford the beginning steps to independence - college, an apartment, basic car maintenance.
I'm getting closer and closer to faking my death and then running away to France.
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inksmudged- Heather
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