Maybe my brain just refuses to rest, because it seems like I have a two-hour maximum that I can comfortably sleep before I wake up. Then I go back to sleep during the day, whenever possible, like some sort of crazed insomniac/narcoleptic.
Life hasn't been half bad. This weekend, specifically, was super busy. I went to cover more stories for the Blenheim Spring Classic III in San Juan Capistrano, for PhelpsSports.com.
My press pass/lanyard
The opportunity to write and have my name on a byline again is really satisfying. I had to blow the dust off my tape recorder that I use for interviews, I almost forgot the fun of the ping pong between the reporter and the interviewee where I wait for the perfect quote to turn on a light bulb in my mind. It's a game of luck and skill, because some people are just better spoken than others, and sometimes I don't ask the best questions so it's no surprise I end up with patchy answers. Also, I like to have more interviews than I may need because it's much easier to widdle down a too-long story than one where I have little info about what happened.
The stories I covered this weekend were the Hunter Derby and another $35K Grand Prix. The next show I'm planning to cover is in Del Mar, another Blenheim show. It's under the same umbrella as the Oaks, but there are different photographers, specific staff, et. al. All part of the fun, though, seeing how I like the constant change and lack of routine involved. Clearly some parts are constants, like the Grand Prix at "AA" shows, but the faces of both horse and human switch up all the time. I've already met so many riders, course designers and trainers than I ever thought I would, but there are still so many more out there I'm ready to meet. I just have to bide my time until our schedules intersect.
Next show is in San Diego, the Showpark Ranch & Coast Tournament starting May 11th.
As for non-work, my hand is still "ehh."
A few weeks back, I wore the splint over my gloves
I was warned there'd be good and bay days, and ain't it the truth. It's frustrating because you can't not use your hand, or at least I'm much more aware of that fact now that it's still healing. The worst pain comes from pushing or pulling any amount of weight with my left hand, so I try to avoid that. Also, I have a habit of resting my chin in my hand and that can aggravate it. I've found that if I lift an object in a particular way then I completely avoid the injury site.
Here's where the screws are, exactly, holding the break in place and realigning the displaced metacarpal bones.
Closing my fingers is still a challenge, though, at times, and my hand will either shake like I have Parkinson's (tendon trauma) or just feel generally stiff/sore. Now I also have to be aware of the scar, and not just for the aesthetic reasons. Scar tissue is both underneath the incision wound and above it, so I have to massage the scar so it remains pliable and I have further range of motion. Not only that, I have to keep it out of the sun as much as possible and keep it warm and moisturized. Every other night I use a heating pad on my hand for 15 minutes and then use vitamin E oil to massage the scar, then I do my physical therapy. PT includes stretching the affected fingers, making a "hook" fist and then a real fist, and tapping my fingers. Obviously typing doesn't bother me anymore, which is a welcome relief, since I'm always clacking away at the keyboard for some reason or another.
I'm back to riding, although I don't lease a horse and that might not happen again for awhile, unfortunately. Luckily, my trainer is nice enough to allow me to ride his 7-year-old Hanoverian gelding/equitation horse, so that's what I'll be doing. His name is Elton and he's cute. At first I thought maybe a bit funny looking face, but it has grown on me, like a mother who is aware her baby isn't cute. A bit shy on the ground, but he already seems to be gaining trust in me, which is always a good feeling w/ naturally skittish animals like horses. Horses are just like people in regards to personality, moods and work ethic. It all can be molded and trained to an extent, but what's naturally there, talent-wise, is what you take and run with it.
Elton
I have to wear my splint while I ride to protect my hand from further injury
OK I'm gonna attempt sleep again while the sun's still down...Yaaaaaawn.
I saw the movie Julie & Julia, the other day,where the Julie character writes a cooking blog based on her experience doing all the recipes in Julia Child's cook book "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." It reminded me that oh yeah, I have my own blog.
Just finished writing my 2nd story for PhelpsSports.com. I put the hyperlink there so you will go and sign up for an account. But um, sorry it's not free... but hey, is that Cosmo subscription you have free? Sports Illustrated? Insert-publication-here?? No. The point is, ya can't expect people like me who are broke to make dollah billz without some money going into a publication.
Yawn. I'm trying to come off as diplomatic and failing miserably, but oh well.
Life is pretty good right now due to the recent addition of gainful employment into my life. I go crazy when life becomes to idle. Crazy in that I'll feel catatonic and bored, that kinda thing. The best part about my new job is that not only is it something to do, but it's something I enjoy. I can still push myself to do something I don't like, such as cleaning my room. OK I won't lie, my room is in a state of disarray 90% of the time, but that's not the point. Shh! The point is that I have this insatiable need to do the best I possibly can if I really enjoy something. So far writing these stories takes a whole lot of research and fact checking and sometimes/or often I get the feeling that I'm a fraud because I'm not a good enough rider to be writing about things as advanced as Grand Prix, but hey, so far I've gotten positive feedback. The general consensus about writers or any profession that is creatively-driven is that you can always improve.
I would go into further detail about this, but I'm about to pass out on my keyboard and I'd rather not wake up with something like "ASDFFFDFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFf" on my screen when I wake up. Now I shall go to sleep, i.e. hibernation.
Good news = I have a new job (YAY). Job = writing for PhelpsSports, an equestrian news web site, and submitting articles about Grand Prixs in the area. Hooray! I've been hoping to get back into some type of writing job and finding it nigh impossible to snag something in the news field because of the impending doom facing newspapers. Free newspaper access online killed the newspaper subscription (star). Sigh. Oh well, this equestrian gig is much more my speed, anyway, and now I'll be able to write about something that really caters to my interests, not to mention I'll be able to meet riding big wigs, something that's making me extremely anxious, since I've been looking up to these riders since...forever. Oh well, I'm not shy about asking questions (anybody who knows me can attest to the fact that I'm inquisitive or just plain nosy). :-D My first assignment will be for the next Grand Prix at San Juan Capristrano. I already did some research about who rode in the same class from last year and the past few years, and it's been relatively small, ~15 people or fewer. That's a relief, seeing how an enormous Grand Prix class would totally overwhelm me for my first assignment. I'm not too nervous about the whole gathering of info, I've always dorked out to the extreme at these events by writing down scores/time, even the course + jump off so I can follow along and spot where the inside turns are or things of that nature. What's going to be tough is knowing what questions to ask these creme de la creme riders and not just staring at them, dumb-struck and in shell shock. I also have this embarrassing tendency to turn beet red when I'm feeling self conscious or, y'know, embarrassed, so I guess I'll have to just figure out a way to grow a pair and get over it, pretend I'm wearing invisibility glasses or whatnot.
Bad news = my hand is broken...ouchies. I keep hearing all these medical mumbo jumbo details about it: displaced, oblique, spiral fracture of the 4th metacarpal. Aderrr. Alls I know is it needs surgical intervention, ain't that grand? That'll teach you to ride horses like an idiot, speaking of equestrian endeavors. What happened, to explain it again (groannnn) -- I was just doing dinky warm up jumps and I thought I saw the long distance (that's where the horse takes off, for non-riders), so I prepped to jump too early (another riding term: jumping ahead), and Z couldn't jump because I had too much of the weight of my upper body leaning on his neck. He jumped it a stride later, though, and I completely fumbled with my balance as we were landing and as I went to right myself, the back of my left hand hit his neck at apparently high velocity and I heard a loud SNAP, and thus my hand was a-broken. At first I thought the noise I heard was the popping noise you hear when you crack your knuckles, no big deal, so I laughed along with everybody else in the arena at my stupid mistake and just ignored what I figured was a sprain. I did one more jump and decided the pain was way too strong to ignore, especially since I couldn't hold my reins and my hand was shaking like a leaf. Well, Jenny (trainer) felt my hand and it didn't seem normal, so I decided to get off and let the guys take care of Z while I drove myself one-handedly over to the ER. At that point I was holding out hope that I was wasting my time and it was just a sprain, but, obviously it wasn't. Sigh. To add to this headache, my insurance expired -- wait for it -- THREE. DAYS. before I broke my hand, and even though I called to get it renewed that night, they're not going to cover it because they consider it a pre-existing condition. Groannnn. So all the fees for my hand: ER, hand rehab, hand surgeon, pre-op physical, pain med's, post-op checks? Those are all going to be out of pocket. For the first couple days after I knew I broke my hand I was a weepy mess because I thought my riding/showing "career" (ha-ha that's a good one) would be over as I knew it, because all told, this hand stuff is going to cost thousands of dollars. *Deep breath* Let me repeat that: Thouands....thousands...of. Dollars. THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS. OK I'm gonna start hyperventilating, must contain myself. Phew...
So, that's the bad news. The really bad news. Trying to just deal with it. I mean, the doc gave me the option of just splinting it and then no surgery, but that comes with a lot of disadvantages, namely, my hand would heal poorly and I'd have constant pain for the rest of my life. Yeah..that might be appealing in the short term because it would mean I could do more riding because the hand stuff would cost less, but I don't really want to have the hand of an eighty year old by the time I hit 30. So what am I doing, doth ye ask, mine readers? Well, I'm going to have to go under the knife (yes), and have "open hand surgery." Say what? Well, they have to go in and realign the metacarpal bone and put screws in the spot where it's displaced (that means there's a space between where the bone should be in a straight line). The bone is also broken on a long diagonal line ("oblique"), and the pins will help it heal faster. The "spiral" element means the bone is twisted, corkscrew style, and it's somehow pulling on the tendons in an unnatural way. Something like that...I'm not a doctor, Jim. After the surgery I'll be in a cast for ~ a month, but the doc told me it takes ~ 3 months for the bone to be "as healed as it ever will be." The funny part is that the screws I'll get in surgery won't ever be removed, they'll just be chillin' there fo' life and I'll literally be a bionic woman. I asked the doc if that means I'll set off airport metal detectors and he said it'll be smaller than a ring and only a bit larger than a filled tooth, so it shouldn't be a problem. He said this with a face indicating I was an idiot for asking, so if you wondered the same thing, then I would like to tell you that you are an idiot, as well.
I guess that's the bulk of what's new in my life. Despite the new job, I'm still going to need another job to supplement my income since these events I'll cover only happen a couple times a month. We'll see how easily that'll come, I still have my worries because of the economy. I don't care what I'll do for a short-term job, really, as long as it's full-time, preferably with benefits, but I don't want to hope for too much...shmeh. We shall see. Stay tuned.
Delved into a new hobby: writing fiction. A certain subset, mwahaha, but we won't get into that. I'm finding that the most difficult part is writing believable dialogue. All I've ever written is nonfiction. I always pushed the envelope with Associated Press style with my articles, but it was never really outside the box of the rigid style journalists have to adhere to (i.e. inverted-pyramid, anecdotes, quotes from at least 3 sources, typically 500 words per article, etc). Now that I'm left without those guidelines, I feel a bit too free. One of my problems is that I have trouble making decisions unless I have goals and guidelines, so this is pretty difficult. The part that is making it easier is doing a LOT of reading up on similar stories that I want to emulate and writing my detailed outlines. I find that once I write an outline and do any necessary research that whatever story I've set out to tell will write itself. See, already I take the journalist's approach of gathering information, assessing what I have, and then going from there. The problem here is that now I'm totally confused because I have no experience to fall back on in this arena. Once I have all my interviews transcribed and my research completed, writing a 500-word article is cake. This is totally different and daunting. I have a bajillion mini stories floating around my lap top just to get my feet wet, but this whole beginning-middle-end, omniscient 3rd person narrator, rounding out the characters, giving the proper setting...man, it just never ends. My dream would be to a) just finish a god-forsaken story and then b) put it online on a free web site and see if it gets attention/comments, and then c) maybe if it's good enough, get paid.
Recently, I discovered the beauty of the "e-book." Literally, you just write a book and pay a fee to a hosting site and get commission for the sales of your e-books, which buyers read in an online-friendly format. It's way less hassle than finding a publisher and promoting yourself that way, because anybody can say they have an e-book if they pay a hosting site, it's just a matter of getting enough sales to make it worth your while. The whole self-promotion thing is a bit of a head scratcher, but one idea for that is posting free stories on free hosting web sites and putting up information about your longer e-books that can be purchased. That would be an ideal move for me, because I'm such a writing/reading junkie and it's something that I can do on my own time without a boss. There are certainly editors you can find online, though, really easily. I've already contacted a few of them and I've even volunteered my own editing services to others. Editing is another job I enjoy, mainly because it kills me to see the frequent grammatical errors floating around, especially online, where ppl talk like this lol. PET. PEEVE. The occasional use of "Net Lingo" doesn't bother me, but when people talk exclusively in shorthand I just want to set myself on fire. I certainly have my own weaknesses in my writing, but when I see flagrant disregard for my beloved language, I get irritated.
Anyway, we'll see if this whole making-money-at-writing dream pans out. Wish me luck on my noble quest.
Oh look, I hath returned to Ye Olde Blog. If I had as much motivation to write mindless tripe in other areas of my life, I would be quite successful.
For some reason, I've been dorking out and following the Olympics as much as possible. I hardly know anything about hockey, but I've even watched that. What I know about hockey comes from my scant knowledge of polo. Yes, polo on a horse, not water polo, to clarify. Now there's a sport I'd like to do -- polo, not hockey, let's be serious. Then again, I don't exactly have the polo rider physique (or even hunter/jumper physique, woops). What I'd really need is much more upper body strength, and if you take a look at my arms you'll notice they resemble those of a T Rex (i.e. scrawny). I've had the chance to tinker with polo before, namely during my first job when I was 15 and I took care of a bajillionaire's polo horses. And the barn where I rode, at the time, had a rep for polo teams using the facilities. One of our outdoor rings was even referred to as the polo field because the gates were high enough for the ball to smack into it at high speeds. I also got to exercise some polo horses on the side, and those animals are totally different from the frou frou of hunter/jumper show horses. For one, they're tiny, powerful, have no mane and a cropped tail, and they stop and turn on a dime. They also have less of a spook, generally. Oh, and polo is one of the most expensive sports you can do probably right up there with yacht racing. Yeah.
Anyway, what caused that tangent? Who knows. My mind is a mystery to me.
Speaking of horse endeavors, it's going...yeah. It's going. This weekend's show will be filed under "a learning experience" (groan). I get all worked up about my nerves, patchy show experience in the past decade, nonexistent memory, and then having to work at training a green animal and wondering if I'm even qualified for something like that. Whatever, I do my thang. Luckily the horse I'm riding is totally game and brave, jumping from any distance imaginable and putting in an absurd effort to clear a jump that you'd think must be on fire for him to be clearing it so high. So what he lacks in experience is compensated by willingness to do whatever. Well, mostly...And when I start to get frustrated with all the aforementioned things, then I'll get seethingly jealous when another trainer inquires about Z being for sale. I get all indignant that I've done so much work and it'll all be meaningless. Back when I had my own horse it was always awesome if another trainer would compliment the animal that carted me around, now I dread hearing anything. I know, I know, grow a pair and get over it. It's a business, yadda yadda. I just need to complain.
What else? Oh, y'know, life is fab. My daily perusal of the news is hampering my desire to plunge ahead in the job search, when you hear about home foreclosures and how writing jobs are nonexistent. I guess that's the case with any of those right-brained, creativity-driven jobs though, even in a bangin' economy. People always seem to revel in telling you you'll never make it as a ____ because of the competition. Well, those people can shove it. Ain't nothin' gonna break my style, ain't nothin' gonna hold me down, oh no, I got to keep on movin'.
Other: my knee is still out of whack, hyperextended. It pops sometimes when I walk. Who knows what that's about, but let me tell you that it's not the most pleasant feeling when you stretch in the morning and your knee gives out a shriek of pain. I will continue to complain about this situation until this ends.
OK I am now off like a prom dress. Bye bye for now, blog.
I'm not sure if it's just because of the equine connection, but I've been loving the zebra print fad, lately, and let me clarify that I usually hate fads. I also hate leopard print, usually...I don't know what the deal is. This puzzles me greatly, actually. Shrug.
Still at one of those life crossroads things. This troubles me. I'm one of those people who can't make a decision to save my life, so it's difficult to choose what I want to do and how to pursue it in the most efficient way. I'm determined as #*)%, so I know that pretty much whatever I want (in reason) can be achieved. I've done it befo'. So in the meantime, I have to work on pinpointing where and what I want to do and then going for it gung-ho and then saying a prayer to the Atheist gods that the economy won't obliterate my chances of getting what I want. It's annoying that most jobs I find are a near-fit, but I'm usually either over- or under-qualified. Then there's also the location issue -- I went to college 3000 miles away from home and then after I graduated I went 10,000 miles away from home, now I just wanna stay put for awhile. It occurred to me that Ventura County isn't where I want to be, long-term, but I don't exactly know what sounds ideal, either. Hrmph.
Something needs to pan out with my writing endeavors. I have several writing projects on my lap top that I've been doing just for something to do, but I haven't pursued getting them published. I also haven't done much in the way of cold calling to offer my writing skillz, partly because I'm being lazy and then there's the fear that I won't be taken on and that would be a royal slap in the face because I'm a rejection-phobe. *Deflates*
Horse stuff is going fairly well. It would be going better if I had more funds to do more stuff and snag an animal to ride long-term, but ya can't always get what you want. Y'know what would be nice? If I could buy a dirt cheap animal (I'm talking a couple thou) and then training that bad boy up and selling him. Nah...right now that sounds like a fool's errand. I remember one of the horses I rode in NY, Trilby, was what If Only Farm called "Sue's Folly," because she was super expensive, but hardly anybody could ride her because she was such a pain in the keester, so she never got sold. Mares can be a real piece of work -- add in the thoroughbred factor and a wicked temper and you have the trifecta of yuckery. Then again, I got Trilby to like me, so neener-neener. Only one other rider got her to go around well, and that was a quasi-pro who trained at IOF and took her to Harrisburg in the A/A Hunters. So yeah -- if someone tells me something can't be done, I make it my mission to prove otherwise. Because I'm a *bleep* and it gives me a delicious sense of schadenfreude, I suppose. Well, anyway, I'll admit I didn't fit her very well, seeing how she was *maybe* 16 hands and I'm 5'9" with junk in the trunk, but hey, she had a massive barrel and suitability isn't the be-all, end-all for adult amateur hunters. Also, no match is perfect, even if you spent 7 figures, the animal can go permanently lame and you're out all that $. I mean, take a look at a horse's legs at some point -- they're super long and spindly and they're holding up an animal that weighs as much as a car. They also land from large jumps at high velocity, so there's that, too.
Somebody told me a week or so ago that horses aren't meant to be ridden. He said it might've been necessary back when they were essential for transportation, but that anybody who rides a horse these days is just making the animal into a mindless plaything and should just join the circus. After I told this person that I couldn't continue the argument because I was busy eating a veal sandwich and I was off to go hunting in my mink coat, I actually thought about this. After dorking out and doing more research and going over the bajillions of coffee table books I've collected over the years, I've determined that there's a valid point in the "you shouldn't ride a horse" statement, but that it's not necessarily cruel. True, there's abuse. There are idiots who don't know what they're doing and don't realize there's a delicate balance in what is appropriate for each individual animal and that one size doesn't fit all. Then there's the fact that domesticated horses have their needs micromanaged, from food, supplements, medical attention, shoes, teeth, exercise, and of course aesthetics for the show horses. Training horses, also, is a lot of work for horse/rider, but it's not abuse if it's done correctly. Using things like whips/spurs also can be done effectively -- after all, not correcting something an animal does wrong and then deciding to beat the %*)% out of him after the 20th time only confuses the animal and therein lies the abuse, amirite? Yep. I am right. I win, QED. I have more to say on this subject, but shmeh. Later.
OK I just realized I'm tired. Imma go read and perhaps wake up for a game plan for my life. Wish me luck.
Hazards include: throwing dry-clean only sweaters in the wash (resulting in doll clothing post-drying), hitting the snooze button 30 times, being late to everything, being a lazy mofo in general. Except for when I want something, then I kick my motivation into hyperdrive.
Yawn.
Worked around 40 hours at VS last week, it was almost as though I have a real job.
Speaking of ~ I got a call from Ithaca College, my alma mater, a few hours ago. I raised an eyebrow when I got a call from my home phone, since that never happens -- and of course it was a call asking for donations. I'm sorry, but I'm curious how the communications school gets these massive alumni donations. One thing I do know is that if we were to examine the statistics of the high roller donors, they don't come from the 20-something demographic and they sure as hell don't come from journalism grad's. Sigh. Even when I did have my last journalism gig, I made $40 a story, which is pitiful. The amount of work, blood/sweat/tears (and any other bodily fluid?) and energy put forth in writing news isn't proportionate to the payoff. Literally speaking, of course.
Solution is to take some other path -- luckily a J degree can be applied to many different fields...right? Mlehhhh.
Seems like all I do in this blog, post-Spain, is bitch & moan about my lack of meaningful employment.
OK, Debbie Downer time, a li'l bit: I don't like the holidays. To me, it signals a time when I put on 5 pounds and I get stressed for stupid reasons. Everybody runs around like headless chickens when we're supposed to be all glowing about the awesomeness of the season. It's no wonder why so many people get depressed in November/December. Of course, it makes even more sense where there are real seasons and it's gloomy every damn day, unlike SoCal.
I miss snow. I find it utterly bizarre to not have to bust out the pea coat, scarf, and tall boots -- those days where you're freezing your ass off and you have stains at the bottom of your pant legs because of the salt sprinkled on the pavement. It's hard to get in the mood for Christmas when it's 65 degrees and sunny each and every day, but shmeh. Unlike many of my antidepressant-taking peers, I don't suffer from seasonal affective disorder. I like me some rain, snow, etc. Oh sure, I get down if it's gloom and doom every day, but I also love waking up to a crisply cold morning where you are bundled up in a ton of layers...those days where you take a huge coffee on the road with you on your way to class/work/etc. Hell, I even miss having to drive on black ice. I feel so out of place in SoCal, sometimes, that I just want to scream when I see yet another woman wearing ginormous sunglasses in an indoor mall. RAHHH.
Forgive my rampant cynicism tonight, my bad. I guess.
Life's actually pretty good right now, I'm just venting.
Turns out the horse I rode from July through November went out on trial to get sold, but then he came back within a week because of his head shaking problem. Yeah. He shakes his head in bright light, and because this is LA land, that means he isn't nearly as competitive as he would be without it. It's really unfortunate, because he is a very fancy horse, it's just that there's no cure for head shaking -- yet, anyway. There's no treatment, really, either at this point. The main thing you can do is throw on a fly mask and a hair net on their nose, so I suppose that's the bandaid you slap on to make the horse not-miserable, but you can't use those accessories in a horse show, unfortunately. Rahhh. Well, anyway, now he's back (Cappuccino is his name), but it turns out I've started to ride another horse, anyway. I'm going to keep leasing this new horse I've been riding, too, because he's a much better fit for the kind of stuff I want to do, not to mention I fit him better, physically because he's taller and more athletic. I'm having tons of fun on this horse, Z, because he's much more challenging than Cappuccino, not to mention I'm finally jumping bigger jumps again! Sheesh...it's so difficult to find a decent 3'6" + horse to lease without paying an arm and a leg, I really picked the wrong sport, man. I shoulda picked up ping pong or chess or something, because this is all way too expensive. Aaaanyway, here's pic's of me and Z: My goal is that I'll be able to compete in level 3 jumpers by the spring, that is, if this horse hasn't sold by then. He's still pretty green, so I doubt he'll sell. Usually the people willing to shell out the dough for a nice jumper horse don't want to buy the greenies, but who knows. I asked my mom if we could pony up the cash to buy a horse, again, at some point, and I literally got laughed at...but I mean, yeah, that makes sense. I should be paying for all this junk on my own without needing the financial help from the 'rents, being that I'm supposedly an adult (I still don't feel like one, though, despite already having been financially independent and living on my own, once upon a time). I'm just grateful that I can ride at all, it prevents me from dive-bombing into depression -- not that I'm free and clear of that happening, anyway, what with its nasty habit of relapsing whenever my brain chemicals decide that emotional stability is for bitches. Ah, mood disorder, I shake my fist at thee.
What else? Oh yeah, I'm going to be alone for Thanksgiving this year. Yeah. The Bobergs are all going to Iowa without me, because I have to stay home and work 30 hours next week at VS. Woohoo, boooobs. I'm enjoying working at VS again, but what I hate-hate-hate is pushing the god forsaken credit card on people. The managers always say "make sure you are enthusiastic and the benefits and the yadda yadda blah blah...one in ten people will sign up!" Uhhh, what I hear there is nine in ten will shoot you down and give possibly you death glares for being an irritating salesperson.
Real job searching continues, but trying to get a reporter job, I might as well resign myself to living in a cardboard box for the the rest of my life. Yeah, print journalism is going the way of the milkman, I'm afraid. I'm going to have to double up on some other field in order to put my writing to use, probably. What I'd love to pursue is corporate journalism. One of my dad's coworkers does that and he and his wife both wrote for the LA Times and did extensive investigative reporting, so I want to arrange another lunch with them so they can give me some tips about WTF I should do to get my foot in that door. Right now my ego is all deflated and I feel a bit hopeless about getting a real job, but shmeh. It's just disheartening that barely any job offers have popped up that are worth taking since I've been home from Spain. Lame ^ nth.
Anyway, I'm gonna attempt to sleep. Keyword, attempt. Wish me luck!
Workin' hard for the money, woooo! At least, I hope that'll happen. I got a mention of a job offer today when I went to Wellnessmart in Thousand Oaks. I've been there to shoot the sh*t with the main doctor guy, and today I mentioned something about oh yeah, I'm an unemployed bum (well, retail sort of does/doesn't count). So he asked before I left if my contact info was accurate, because he'd like to see if I could write for him. SQUEE.
Granted, this isn't the first time someone has mentioned maybe I could do some writing for him/her, but we'll see what happens. The prospect of it is cool, if nothing else.
Another no-less-important update: I found out one of the reasons I sleep horribly, even when exhausted, is because I might have a dust mite allergy. Apparently your bed is crawling with disgusting bugs (bed bugs?) and you can have a sensitivity to them. Yeah, gross. I mentioned to the doc that I have a problem breathing when I'm laying down, but not when I'm sitting or standing, and he says it's likely an allergy. SHEESH, now I know, after trying practically everything to sleep better: less caffeine, no naps/power naps/4-hour naps, nasal spray, breathe right strips, working out at strategic times, melatonin, ambien, it has all been a wash. I also have the whole anxiety thing keeping me awake, but if it were as simple as a dust mite allergy that is keeping me awake, I would weep with joy to be able to resolve it like this. Stay tuned.
Other: I got evangelized today, against my will. Actually, does anybody ever want to be evangelized? I was just chatting with some lady about why she was planning a trip to Africa and then got to hear a bunch of bull about spreading His word, blahblahblah, "Christ is the only way," and the whole litany of self-righteous tripe. Whenever I have to deal with that, I always probe and ask questions but keep a sort of calm exterior, because there's no point in getting into an argument with people who have no interest in being logical. The thing that I despise is having to defend myself when I get those random accusations. I suppose I could just let it slide, but of course I mentioned "Well, I am Catholic." So this lady goes into some diatribe about how Catholics don't read the Bible, Catholics are drunks who have no reverence for religious festivities, this and that and the other thing. I'm not about to go to bat for Catholicism, but I was getting hugely irritated by hearing an evangelist trash it. I'm sure I could bring up any religion and this woman would've had a conniption fit. Shoulda said I was a Jew, that would've gone well.
RAHHHHHHHH...
Anyway, I'm beyond exhausted. I keep sleeping 4 hours every night and burning my candle at both ends during the day. It would be worse if I had a real job, obviously, but I think I'd end up being completely useless at life if that were the case. Oh, and how delicious is the fact that I can get a job offer without going through all the arduous process of cover letter + resume + job search engine + outside help? Networking = beneficial. It behooves you to network. "Behooves" is probably my favorite word.
Rambling, woops.
Still writing my short story and talking to writer dude who submits to the same website. I've been surprised at how much fun it is to dip into the fiction arena and bounce ideas off other writers. I feel about a thousand times more intellectually stimulated talking to these people than I would, say, watching Dateline and eating chocolate fro yo. I'm checking the box on this website that says I want my submissions to be evaluated for publication, too, so we'll see if that gets off the ground. Right now I've finished my outline and done about 5 pages of a short story (it'll probably hit 60+ by the time I'm done with this installment). We'll see if this leads anywhere.
You'd think my sleeping would get back on track once my life adjusted to that of a more normal twenty-something, but nope. I guess I'm just a dyed-in-the wool insomniac.
I've been doing a stupid amount of work to get a "real" job. . I'd like to think that that Journalism degree and multilingualism would be worth something, but apparently in this economy, that equals the amazing opportunity of working as a painter. A world-class painter? Oh, even better: a house painter. Yeah, that's what Career Builder would like me to do, anyway, in addition to offers such as electrician and secretary. Oh, sorry, "administrative assistant."
Maybe I should just go to my local temp agency and just chalk it up to the crap economy? Well, right now I'm shooting higher and I joined Cal Lutheran's version of Career Builder, which actually recruits Cal Lutheran students for a sh*tton of career opportunities available almost exclusively in Ventura County. It's completely amazing to have a job search engine that is just for jobs in Ventura County, because "Southern California" is way too broad. California just boggles my mind with its size. Oh, and no, I have no education background from Cal Lutheran, but when you have both parents with jobs there, it opens the door for that (yay, thanks, mom and dad, for defecting to academia in your 50s). My dad actually has two jobs, which is completely bizarre, seeing how he's always gone to work in his starched dry-clean only getup to live the life of the executive mortgage banker, financial guy. But oh yeah, back to that economy thing, I guess it's necessary to get a second job these days? Luckily for MBAs, apparently you don't even need an education degree to get a job in that field. Or maybe that's just the case at schools like Cal Lutheran? Anyway, bravo, papi. Oh, and my mom isn't teaching, but she just got promoted to Assistant Director of the Multicultural/International Programs, there. Brava, mama.
Yawn. So yeah, I have a budding profile on Cal Luthernan's job search whatever thing. I submitted an unbelievable amount of junk, along with a highly tailored profile, my ruthlessly edited resume, bajillions of writing samples, a sample cover letter, and that doesn't take into account the searching I do to find potential matches for things I can pursue on my own. I'm hoping this will be more successful than Career Builder, but there's probably zero chance it could be worse, unless the CEO of a company calls me up personally to tell me I'm a failure at life and then dissolves into maniacal laughter at my expense.
There she be, in all her glory, I just whited out my contact info, just in case I have potential stalkers (hello, stalkers!).
Other stuff...the horse thing is going. Not necessarily "well," but going. There was a bit of a mishap at my last show, where I opted to scratch half my classes on the last day, because the horse's photosensitivity got the best of him so he wouldn't/couldn't stop shaking his head. I get extremely frustrated by it, but there's not much that can be done but put the horse away, give him a pat, and wait and hope that the next time we show it goes better. And by "better," I mean that he doesn't shake his head so violently that I feel like I'm the passenger in a bumper car, getting shook about on his back. Rahhhh. In any case, I'm pretty sure Cappuccino (horse) will be leaving the barn, soon, anyway, so he can get sold. I'll definitely miss him, it's been a fun partnership. Can't exactly afford a horse right now, though, it's also pretty impractical, seeing how I'll be (hopefully) going to law school and working at the same time, in the next few years. I just wanna have my cake and eat it too, I guess, and do it all. For now, that will have to go on hold until I become wildly successful...or a trophy wife. I have lofty ambitions and my other goal right now is to find my personal sugar daddy who will buy me a summer home and more horses than I can count on one hand. ;-)
Another thing I'm working on is writing a short story and submitting it to an online forum. Apparently there are ways to get compensation if a recruiter sees something they like, so that would be amazing if that happened. I've never written fiction, though, so it's a bit of a hurdle for me. It isn't proving too much of a challenge yet, though, since I am always writing something or another and I write ridiculously thorough outlines. So, I'm hoping this will be more than a hobby, but we'll see if it takes off. I befriended one of the other writers on this site, so he and I have been chatting a lot and he's been helping me as far as inspiration and editing goes, so hooray for that, too.
OK I think I'm gonna (attempt to) hit it, again. Wish me luck.
Every so often I remind myself that I was in Spain this time, last year. I remember the whole thing being totally surreal. How? I started at my bilingual middle school with the help of Carlos, my bilingual coordinator and supervisor with his hybrid Spanish-British accent. Then there was the odd factor of being openly stared at in the street like I was from another planet, to my agreement that yeah, SoCal and a small, Southern town in Spain are on different planets.
Now everything is back to normal, but it's like I don't know what normal is supposed to be after spending four years in college, a year in Spain, and now back to a place where I have spent very little time -- Simi Valley. Now there's another difference: the SoCal culture and NY culture are pretty much opposite in a lot of ways. New York is much louder and brash. People don't act like their moods are affected by constant sunshine and like life is a Disney movie, where the biggest problem in the morning is deciding between a Gucci or Versace pair of sunglasses. Oh, of course there are the Hamptons and the obscenely rich people who own oil companies, just like the left coast. But the people who I associated with weren't usually those people, except for the few I knew who I competed against, riding. Back to the cultural aspect, though -- I usually want to get the *bleep* out of Simi Valley and go back to New York. The problem with me is that I'm never 100% comfortable wherever I land, because nothing is familiar. I haven't lived in the same place for more than 3 years at a time since I left Michigan, when I was 16. Yeah I talk about it a lot, blah blah, but I'm getting used to SoCal, still, so I am going to think about it if not just complain. It's not that I want to complain as much as try to figure this whole thing out and come to terms with living here indefinitely.
I started LSAT prep class. Well, more like I took the diagnostic test and I'm waiting for the real classes to start and get the wake up call that I need to learn to pace myself better in taking the test. I will get hung up on making sure I have done my process of elimination while evaluating which answer best suits the question I'm reading, and getting worried, because sometimes they look like they all could be correct. Actually, it's sometimes obvious that two of the answers were put there to play tricks on you so I just throw those out and concentrate on what does fit.
Truth be told, I am such a huge nerd for reading and writing that the LSAT doesn't faze me as much as it should. I'm a Libra, after all, and we're all about balance, right? Ya damn straight. I get so in the zone when I'm taking the (practice) tests that when I hear someone sneeze I jump. My favorite part of the test are the logic puzzles, because I feel like I'm good at that. The worst part is the long passages, because although I'm a fast reader, I want to be thorough. Being completely nitpicky isn't an option when you have 35 minutes to get through 26 questions while reading the long passages and answering questions. Kind of weird, because when I used to take scantron tests in high school I remember always being one of the first people done. But the stakes are way higher this time, it's not like if I bomb the test about WWI that I'll get a chance to up my overall grade on the next test.
A lot of people have been asking me "seriously? Law school?" and I just say yeah, I'm interested in pursuing it. I remember my insanely demanding sophomore year at Ithaca, and how I was assigned to write two 25+ page essays, I had a job, I wrote for the paper, and oh yeah, I was living with a sociopathic roommate, all at the same time. I managed to keep my sh*t together the first semester, but I just snapped like a twig the second. "Twig" makes it sound like it wasn't too bad. Let's say I started sending sparks in every possible direction, like a toaster dropped in the bathtub. Point? I feel I've matured a lot since then and managed keeping my anxiety in check, more. Clearly the (lack of) sleep exacerbates my ability to work efficiently, but I'm working on it s'more.
One thing that has made me anxious is the job situation. I've found that the employers who are interested are now telling me (NOW TELLING. ME.) that they can't get a hold of the American contact to affirm that I worked in Spain. Well, sh*t. That makes it seem fishy, obviously, and it feels like a year of work was wasted. In any case, I've been told to provide new contacts, so I put down one of my riding trainers and my mom's last boss who went with me to El Salvador last year. Let's hope this will catapult me into the right direction, because I'm stuck otherwise. I mean, I worked at a newspaper and in Spain, I speak nearly fluent Spanish and Italian, I did other grunt work, and shouldn't that be enough for some entry level job of some sort? But of course just going to undergrad means nothing these days unless you want to be chief fry cook at your local In N Out, I guess, especially in this economy. Moan, groan, vomit.
It has been a long 3 months back at home, and definitely an adjustment. In some ways, it's like I never left home, but it also feels like if that were the case, that a chunk of my life was spent in some sort of weird time warp abroad. I really miss being in Spain and I wish I could be back there, but I made the decision that it wasn't entirely practical for my long term goals to go back. Also, I made crap money -- really good money for the amount of work I was doing, but still crap. What I really wanted to do was work the normal teacher hour-load every week, but my guess is that the Spanish government didn't want to blow millions of euros paying the foreigners to work for them. That decision seems a bit odd, to me, seeing how we were pouring our money right back into their economy, but I still see what they're saying.
It has been extremely difficult trying to get back into the work scene and really disheartening. I don't want to go back to some stupid retail job, but c'est la vie. I've heard of a lot of people going on to masters degrees who wait tables to get by, and honestly, I would need a job with hour flexibility in order to do that, anyway, so I just need to be realistic about it. But it still sucks, especially when I see the girls at the barn who can do any show they want and have unlimited disposable incomes/or trust funds + the like to get by. Then I remember how the horse riding world is so completely separate from the reality of normal people and I should just shut up and be grateful. My family is in the upper middle class, anyway, but sometimes I feel like we're living in a cardboard box compared to some of the other families at the barn. Yes, I have become a crusty cynic. Ship me back to New York, please.
This week has been pretty busy, though. I've continued my quest in getting a job, and I'm thinking I need to branch off from the job search engines and look in person. I'm sure that hundreds of people are looking at the same positions as I am, people who are older and more experienced, too, no doubt. The economy blows a big one right now, so any and all writing jobs are few and far in between, and I've always wanted to be involved in something where I get to use creativity, a bit.
The short-term aspect of my life has been getting to me. That whole "a rolling stone gathers no moss" phrase rings true to me, because I've been flitting here and there for so long that I don't feel tied down to anything and I always frantically search for a new environment, because that's what I've been used to since I moved from Iowa to Michigan, ten years ago. Three years later, we moved to Long Island, then two years after that I started at Michigan State and transferred to Ithaca after one semester. My parents had already relocated to SoCal at that point, so that was another adjustment. Once I got to Ithaca, I left to study abroad in Florence the spring semester of my junior year, but I had to come home after two months due to health reasons, which blew my life into shreds for a few months. Then once I got back to school, senior year, I was preparing for the "real world" right away. Real world = Spain. So, I'm not exaggerating when I say I've been moving around like a psycho for almost as long as I can remember, and it has definitely taken a lot of energy and determination to get to meet people and stake some sort of claim in place I decided to live at that moment. Luckily for me, I'm really independent, but it takes a toll on me when I can't make long term commitments or relationships, since the human experience includes that. I guess I've felt like an outsider ever since I was 13 and we moved to Michigan, and I've never gotten past that isolated feeling so I just move around, but who knows.
Riding has kept me busy since I've been back. I've been riding a little 6 year-old horse named Cappuccino, and it has been an awesome experience. I've made stride (hardy har) in getting back into riding shape and being a team, again. Fortunately for me, I've lucked into having a completely awesome horse who is eager to please and forgiving when I eff up, which was a lot, at the beginning. Now when I look back, I'm surprised my trainer allowed me to lease him! But w/e, I did a LOT of work with Vicky, last year, that I guess it makes sense. The first time I sat on Vicky, I thought she was a psycho, and I hated the pelham bit with the converter on it that they put on her, which she just ran away from, anyway. She also had pitiful turn out -- her mane was too long and on the wrong side, her whiskers were long, her coat was dull, everything was just a mess. She and I didn't form an immediate bond, but I was persistent in getting her to soften up a bit, which isn't easy for a nutso thoroughbred mare. We switched to a snaffle bit, which might as well have been a wet fish in her mouth, and then I put a happy mouth 2-ring elevator on her and a figure-eight bridle which I thought worked really well. She didn't run away from that bit, so I barely had to touch her mouth anymore. She had strange ways of behaving, sometimes, like hating walking and wanting to trot everywhere. She also spooked at almost anything, including flower boxes she had seen 50 times. On the other hand, I remember her stopping at jumps very rarely, and usually because she spooked or because she didn't see the jump, or because it was too high for her (I thought she might be able to jump past 3'3", but I was way wrong...). In the end, it was a really fun pair up for me, even though it wasn't without its problems, but what riding pair isn't. I have a really bold eye, so it was fun to have the horse version of myself underneath me. She was a bit too small for me, though, given her light frame and dainty bone structure.
Cappuccino has been fun and a different challenge for me. It's hard to me to keep an even, hunter pace and literally go with the flow. Everybody thinks jumpers is harder because of the intricate courses and tight turns, and maybe it is, but it's also challenging to keep an even rhythm and make everything look effortless when, in fact, it's not. Some of Cap's odd behaviors include looking out of the ring when he's not focused, swapping from right to left leads (because he's not strong enough yet), and being a bit difficult to steer. All of those problem have gotten better, though, and they're really not that much of a hindrance, anyway, if I ride like I'm supposed to. The main problem is his photosensitivity, which I had never even heard of before I had ridden him. He tosses his head because he's essentially allergic to the light and it causes him pain. The cause isn't exactly determined and there's no cure, right now. I put his fly mask on every time I ride and a hair net over his nose, which for some reason comforts him and minimizes the headshaking. I also put him on Chinese herbs which supposedly help. Eventually, I want to see if accupressure will help alleviate the problem, since the equine chiropractor has already helped, I think. As for his strengths, he's very willing and he covers for me when I ride like a moron. He is really pretty to watch and he is definitely gorgeous, too, with the bonus of having an awesome coat, mane and tail. I'm working on figuring out if I can afford to buy him, which will be easier to do if I can make payments over time since obviously I don't have thousands of dollars at my disposal, and mommy and daddy aren't willing to fork over the dough for me at this point in my life.
Boots was the last horse I had, when I was 14. I went up to Ontario with my mom and Cathy, my trainer, and tried 5 or 6 horses before we found Boots. He was a beautiful Belgian Warmblood/Thoroughbred cross, and I was extremely intimidated by him. He had a bit of an aggressive personality and he didn't like anybody, it seemed, but his owner/rider, who was also the trainer at the barn. The first time I got on him, it was a shock to be on a grey horse at first, and then it was odd that when we trotted our first vertical he didn't even know what to do, because clearly all he had ever done was gun it at big 3'6" or 4' jumper courses. When he came to Michigan, though, we made him a hunter because he had absolutely beautiful movement and he pointed his toes really nicely. He eventually came to like me, even though the first few weeks were extremely difficult. He would rear if my back was anything but completely vertical, apparently because he didn't want any weight on his forehand. He also would bolt, occasionally, especially when we would ride in our grass field. The first show we took him to, Cathy rode him in the second year green classes, and he was an absolute nightmare at the in and out gates. He wouldn't want to go in the ring and he would throw a fit before going in. Cathy decided to use a dressage whip on him during schooling and drop it before going into the ring. After a course, we would quickly reward him with peppermints, since he always did well when he actually was IN the ring. He also started to bond with me, Cathy and my mom, but that was about it as far as the horse-human relationships went. Little kids were always in awe of him and wanting to come pet him, which I warned them wasn't going to work well, and true to form, he would charge them with his ears back and nostrils flared. One of the dads of a girl I rode with jokingly said "you think you're so tough, eh?" and he bit his upper arm so badly that his arm had a softball-sized bruise, but I didn't feel guilty at all, since it was well known that Boots was aggressive with people other than the three of us. That year, Cathy was champion of the second year greens and I was sixth place in the 15-17 large juniors, so I was really proud at how far we had come. I definitely miss him a lot, and I'm sad that we had to end our partnership when he got a calcified front right coffin bone which made him utterly useless in the show ring and incapable of riding on his right side.
Anyway, I just miss owning my own horse, so I'm hoping it will work out with Cappuccino, but who knows. Maybe someday I'll be a lawyer or a stay at home trophy wife and I'll be able to ride until my heart's content and fill half the barn with my mounts, but until then, I suffer. I suffer in silence. And yet I never complain! (joke :-P).
The main priority in life is to find a job, get accepted into a good law school, and ride (I'm looking at the Dispute Resolution program at Pepperdine, which is actually the program BEFORE you can get a law degree). Booyah. Wish me luck.
Feeling the need to write in here again, mostly because I don't have a reporter job at the moment, so I'm feeling unfulfilled. Ah, yes, unfulfilled by the insane amount of research and interviewing/transcribing tapes/taking hours to write a simple 500-word article...all for an absurdly, laughably low slave wage. My fellow Journalism major/communications people know what I'm sayin'. In particular, there's not much respect for young writers -- not from sources and not from coworkers. Apparently we're too young and inexperienced to know anything about life or have any ability. It's depressing. And right now I can't even work at The Acorn, the paper where I interned two summers in a row and then had a freelance job for one year. The economy sucks and it KILLS me that I can't do my thankless and yet, paradoxically, rewarding job. I know that I'm good at what I do, too (yes I am tooting my own horn), so it just kills me.
One of the trainers at the barn where I ride mentioned that I should ghost write a book he wants to publish, but I'm not really sure how serious he was. I should probably encourage/push him to start so I can have something to do with my time until I get a real job. Also, he wants to write a biography, which is right up my alley. I've done a bazillion personality profile articles, so this would be a fun challenge. It's difficult to write about a source that you haven't had the chance to meet, but I've even done THAT before. So, my plan is to see if I can get that ball rolling in the near future.
I'm already in a tremendous amount of debt with the parents because I've been freeloading by riding again, starting since I've been back from Spain. What I'd really like to do is just buy my own horse, but obviously that's unrealistic when I'm unemployed and living off daddy's dime (AND mommy's -- she got a new/better job!). Now I am so much more aware of how much everything costs than I was as a junior when it was all just left to the trainer to tell my mom how much a new saddle or a new horse blanket and show entries/hauling/braiding/etc would cost. And the costs are higher in California than they were in Michigan, but equal with what it cost me to ride in New York. Actually, I find that you get much better bang for your buck at the barn where I ride in California than where I rode in Ithaca. Also, it's nice to have a training staff that is more courteous and doesn't have the "oh, Meg, you ride better when you're pissed off at me!" mentality. Sheesh, that drove me nuts. I still find myself pursing my lips and getting highly irritated when I think about it, and how I rarely would say "you're being a jerk and I'm not going to stand for you treating me like a bratty 13 year old." #$)t^*$#%*$# I know, I know, I should just let it go...but I feel like venting. It's my own effin' blog, after all.
What else? Well, I miss my east coast friends horribly. I miss cynicism. I miss hanging out with my own age group and laughing til my face goes numb. Somehow I'll be able to find a new social network, I know, but it's difficult when you're unemployed and not in school.
Which leads me to yet another topic. I am applying to LAW school. That's right. A lot of people are saying "but why? I never heard you mention law before," and to that, I say that no, I've always maintained an interest. I love crime dramas and literature...NOT that I'd go into criminal law, but the whole process fascinates me. Something along the lines of corporate law would appeal to me -- something where I can do what I love, anything that includes doing a lot of research and presenting the results (and HELLO, that's what a journalist does). Yes, I was that dorky kid who looked forward to oral presentations and was meticulous about essays in high school. I was also in the drama club and choir to complete the trifecta of dorkery.
OK, I'm wiped out. I've been awake since 6 a.m. for traffic school after a whopping 3.5 hours of sleep. Yes, I am an insomniac and no, I can't make it through a day without a nap, because I get a "second wind" at night where I can stay up literally all night even on very little sleep from the night before. People give me a lotta flack for being a lazy mofo for my effed up sleep habits (well, that's partially true), but the Ambien I have prescribed to me would beg to differ with those assertions. Sidenote: when I take Ambien and I still can't fall asleep and I decide to do stuff, I behave like I'm intoxicated and sometimes I don't remember what I did the night before until I rack my brain...creepy. I would suggest not taking sleeping pills if possible.
And with that, I will pick up my book and then pop an Ambien and head off to dream land. Buenas noches.
Last night, I was willing to put my skepticism aside to watch Katie Holmes do Judy Garland's classic "Get Happy" routine for the 100th episode of "So You Think You Can Dance." After all, I knew KH as nothing other than Tom Cruise's beardwife who used to be on "Dawson's Creek."
For those unfamiliar with it, "Get Happy" is from the 1950 film, Summer Stock.
From all the hype leading up to KH's appearance on the show, you'd think she was legend-worthy, like Judy. Supposedly, she trained for months to be in the routine. Also, it was implied that she would perform live, and why wouldn't she, when SYTYCD is based on live dance?
What happened was a tape was played with KH in a white retro blazer and skirt, going into a studio. At this point, I thought maybe it was just an intro to her live performance, but nope, the tape just kept playing, to reveal a routine on par with Britney Spears' "Gimme More"' routine at MTV's video music awards in 2007. I should give more credit to BS, though, cuz at least she performed live, despite looking a mess and possibly drugged. Another comparison: they both lip-synched -- that's to be expected in a recording, but I was still so disappointed that it wasn't LIVE. I will say that KH is looking pretty great, especially given the fact that she's always in her husband's shadow and praising Xenu or thethans or whatever they are. But her singing was horrendous, not to mention autotuned, and her dancing was nonexistent. I mean, utterly pathetic. If she did anything remotely dance related, let me know, because it looks like nothing more than some flashy poses and getting raised over the heads of the back up dancers. I'm curious what those months of training consisted of, exactly...
Ugh, I have nothing else to say, just watch this ridiculous tripe, already:
Let's see a side-by-side comparison, shall we?
Original version....
Granted, there wasn't much to the dancing in the original version (back up dancers aside), which makes me wonder why they even picked this particular routine, to begin with, if the goal was 1) promoting a dancing scholarship foundation, or 2) to air on a DANCE competition. Even so, Judy Garland clearly has rhythm and training. She had been dancing and singing since she was a little kid, though, it just wasn't as prominent in this song. If they wanted a flashy Judy dancing number, they should've pulled something she did with Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly. As for the singing - comparing KH and Judy's singing is a joke, so I won't even go there. Points go to KH for flashing her undies, I guess, and for having better legs. That's about all I got. But that smug smile at the end makes me want to punch her in the teeth.
Here's some clips of real dancing from Judy:
With Gene Kelly in For Me and My Gal
Meet Me in St. Louis
With Fred Astaire in Easter Parade
With Gene Kelly, again, in Summer Stock (wait until 1:45 for the impressive stuff -- and yes, Judy was way heavier at this point of filming since she was on some major uppers and downers all the time)
In A Star is Born
Also, listen to 12 year old Judy, it's simply incredible --
Now that I'm back on US turf, I'll morph my expat blog into my...patriated blog.
I'm itching to travel again, too. I was thinking "hmmm, I still haven't gone to Mexico and Tijuana is only a few hours away..." Must stop. Must prioritize.
Right now, now that I'm back from my trip to Iowa, I'm really cracking down on finding a job. Today I did probably 15 applications, and let me tell you, it's a drag. Luckily, my cover letter can be tweaked pretty easily for a variety of jobs. Also, Spanish fluency is a huge asset in Southern California...or so I'm told. I have yet to reap the benefits of it. So far, my only Spanish speaking is at the barn where I ride. Word must've spread that hablo español, because everybody always says "hola" to me. Oh, and I've been watching a telenovela here and there. But now that I'm back in the US, I get all nervous and think my Spanish is crap and clam up. I'm thinking I need to sign up for a Spanish lit course or something along those lines so I don't get out of practice.
Another thing I'm working on is grad school applications. I was reading a NY Times article today about how just having a bachelor's degree these days is the equivalent to just having a high school diploma 20 years ago, and it's true. Talk about depressing: CareerBuilder.com has been sending me emails about my potential job matches, and among them are electrician, bartender and handyman. Yikes. And the newspaper where I interned/reported for 3 years in a row isn't accepting any applications -- they're firing not hiring. Sigh. It's such a Debbie Downer situation -- so I am going to focus on getting grad school app's out in the meantime so I can get a better job in the future.
Another problem: I have no clue what I want to study. Lately, the thought of law school seems highly appealing, possibly because I'm a Law & Order junkie (not that I would want to do criminal law). I also am in the process of signing up for a paralegal course, too. I figure I might as well do something to give me a bit of a leg up while I work on prepping for law school application. For one, I'd need to do the LSAT, which is semi-horrifying. I absolutely loathe standardized tests, it's the worst. I'm pretty good at those logic questions, though, which is one of the reasons why I am so attracted to law school. I love debate and I can be highly convincing and I like to lead other people....right now I'm just trying to decide what I want to do, because sitting at home is rapidly turning my brain into Swiss cheese and I get depressed when I can't be productive.
Other stuff I have in the works is riding again, which has always been what makes me happiest. I've been riding this little 6 year old German warmblood gelding named Cappuccino and he's adorable. Pretty different for me, after riding the ridiculously speedy thoroughbred mare last summer, too. He has the biggest stride probably of any horse I've ever ridden, even though he doesn't feel particularly fast -- he just covers a lot of ground. He is really, really sensitive, though -- I haven't been wearing spurs because he has a big motor without them. He also has a distinctive "launch," as I call it, and I usually get "left behind" (equestrian term), because he jumps before I think he'll leave the ground. He must have a really long neck, or something, because I always see another stride. Then again, that reach he has takes up a whole lot of ground. Either way -- he's really cute. Weird thing: he has been wearing a fly mask when I ride him because apparently he throws his head a lot. I'd like to get some fly spray on his face and see if he'll quit that -- I think it looks pretty weird. Small complaint, though. He's so cute and he seems to like a lot of attention, which is also different from the other horses I've ridden who have either seemed pretty indifferent or downright hostile (although they eventually all warm up to a particular person, this one is just dog-like in his eagerness to make friends). Anyway, the riding has definitely played a role in keeping me sane, here.
That's what's new here. Hopefully better updates in the future.
My press pass/lanyard
A few weeks back, I wore the splint over my gloves
Here's where the screws are, exactly, holding the break in place and realigning the displaced metacarpal bones.
Elton
I have to wear my splint while I ride to protect my hand from further injury
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