Ruminations from a sleep-addled brain.

I tell myself I won't do it, but here, again, I find myself bleary-eyed, sitting in front of a screen. Really, what is there to say at 4:24 a.m, anyway?

It's my blog and I'll write about whateva I wan' if I wan'.

I set my alarm to a reasonable hour so I can wake my culo up and start getting some real work done on an Acorn story I'm writing. Cross your fingers for me, darlings, that it blossoms into something long-term! I used to write for them -- 3 summers intern/freelancing. This time it'd be for real, full time and bennies. Naturally, it sounds just like something I'd want to do. I'm already familiar with how things work and admire the team, and I'd have a lot to learn with their weekly goings on, but I can snap up a new routine easily. Had to do it every time I changed schools as a kid, for one, then moving off to Spain, of course. I like it, though. And I'd like how every day you get to research/write about a new topic. I get bored to tears if I'm stuck in a lather-rinse-repeat type job where I have no sense of self fulfillment or possibility to express myself creatively. That's my bread n' buttah.

Also, starting to get some stuff together for an Elvenstar newsletter. This excites me greatly. I always love throwing together newsletters -- when I was a kid, I put together a newsletter called "Meg's GWTW Mania!" and it was about Trivia/fact/info/polls/etc about Gone With the Wind. Yes, I was a very odd child, but I'm sure no one's shocked about that fact. In the end, my self-started newsletter than could got up to over 100, maybe up to even 200 members. Not half bad for 1998 when the internet was shoddy and finding those kinds of people wasn't as easy. I am relentlessly determined to find what I want, though, when I want it. I suppose that's what fueled the fire in my loins to pursue a journalism career? I've had some bumps along the way, first from going to Spain and then not finding many people hiring, then there's the on/off again nature of writing for Phelps, and Patch is freelance, so I do what I need ta do on that front. It would be awesome, though, to have a FULL time job with ***choirs of angels sing*** benefits!

I don't care about the money as much, because what am I gonna spend it on? Oh that's right -- that pesky cars, insurance, clothes (eek!), and *DRUMROLL* moving out of the parents abode! Not that I'm in a rush, but I enjoy my space. I like making my space the way I like it. After living on my own for 5 years and then regressing back to living at home, it's a buzzkill. Fear not, though, I shall emerge victorious in one form or another, if I have to resort to retail employment, insurance sales....ok, maybe not. *Dry Heaves*

What really takes the cake for burning through dollar bills like a lighter being hit with hairspray is riding horses. UGh....I've had it up to here, I tell ya. Needless to say, I'm po' fo' sho'. I have a mind to take a chunk of cardboard and I'd put "JOURNALIST WILL WRITE FOR FOOD" and I'll just hang out with it on the roadside.

Life's pretty good, though. Just anxious about job stuff, as ever, and trying to make the best of the stuff I already have to work on. The lease I have with Opus is ending next week and I'm going to lease Jim's horse, Lincoln, until he sells. As for the past lease horses I've ridden, my track record is they sell about 4-5 months after I start riding them, but who knows what will happen. I'm just excited to have the opportunity to ride what seems to be a fabulous up and coming hunter. Such a slow, round jump, and I love that he's totally unflappable. He's gonna make a very fancy hunter. I'm already jealous of his future owner. Now I'm just grateful Jim's letting me ride/train the 5 y/o imported warmblood. Those European ones, man, they get the job done. I now understand "workhorse" because that's what they ship in from Europe!







Henley riding Lincoln a few months ago -- check out that ROUND jump on him. You can't tell in the pic, but he's also very slow in the air, and rather high over the top of the jump. Makes for some nice photo op's.

Aaaanyway...it has now reached (Merciful Mary *signs the cross*) 4:50 a.m. Time to say Hail Mary's...those also put me to sleep.
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen (repeat 10 x and I'll be face planted in my drool-covered pillow).

Buonna notte, tutti!

Guess who's po' fo' sho?

This is one of the tests I had to take for a job as a proofreader at a financial firm: a typing speed test. I typed 101 words per minute; hence, I am awesome. And modest. Hey, I have to type fast to do phone interviews and type at about the rate of human speech (at least in shorthand if nothing else). I would've been an awesome stenographer back in the 1920s. Bahaha...I have lofty aspirations.

Now for something completely different, and amusing/or sad.



Well if it's at that bargain price, I'll take two!!!

...In what warped world is this considered normal? Maybe for the top .05% income bracket. Sigh.

One more unrelated thing, just to make this interesting: am I the only person I know who isn't engaged/or married at the age of 24? Jesus Christ on a bicycle, what's wrong with me? I mean, don't get me wrong -- I have absolutely no desire to tie myself down, nor do I consider myself ready, but it does give me pause. My mom was married and had a kid on the way by my age. My grandma had already had three daughters by the time she was my age, and two years later, she had her fourth.

On the flipside, I'm only 24 god-forsaken years old. There is no justifiable reason why I need some dude to put a ring on it, yet, especially if I'm not ready. For one thing, who wants to end up on the wrong side of the divorce statistic? Not I. I remember my dad said the one most important decisions a person can make is "spousal selection," so I wouldn't take that choice lightly. I think more people should focus on, say, the marriage instead of a wedding; however, I will admit this doesn't stop me from watching girly shows about weddings such as "Platinum Weddings" or "My Fair Wedding by David Tutera" or "Say Yes to the Dress," and even occasionally I'll watch "Bridezillas" if I'm feeling particularly like watching trash TV. It's all a circus. The "wedding industry" makes billions every year, and to me that's kind of pathetic. I wonder how much divorce attorneys make per year?

Oh, am I too cynical? *Shrug* I won't deny that claim. It's true. But here's a quote to cap off this "life is ridiculous" post: Behind every cynic is a disappointed idealist. Alternatively, I've heard this quote: Remember, beneath every cynic there lies a romantic, and probably an injured one.

A great mind never rests! ...or something

For reasons unknown, I feel the burning desire to write in my sadly neglected blog while I am deliriously tired and my vision is slightly blurred, but hey, them's the breaks.

Turns out my foray into the job search is a tricky, bumpy road. It's tricky when you are so obviously under- or overqualified for many of the positions you read about, it makes for some low morale in even trying to look. I even looked into training as a court reporter, which I would love. I'm a huge dork about any and everything Law & Order, and I'm fascinated by criminal justice. I'd love the chance to report about that, specifically, since it would give me access to all the nitty gritty things I want to learn. *Squee* Even the thought of being trained makes me feel like I'm some sort of demented hamster in a wheel.

The point, though, is that it's somewhat discouraging when you have to go back to school in order to get a job that isn't something I'm outrageously overqualified to do.. Good news is I souped up my resume, once again, so it looks mighty fine.


And she's lookin' like a beaut. Hire me? *puppy dog eyes*

What else is new - well, every time I write in here I wonder about the whole internet privacy thing. Like if someone reads stuff about me are they going to know more than they should and yadda yadda. Hard to say. I'd say for most people, their unique personality won't hinder their job performance, unless of course we're referring to drugs getting in the way, or party lifestyle taking away from their work ethic. Shrug. What bothers me more is sending an email to one person and then when it's on the other person's email account, s/he can control if anybody else is going to see it. Hmm...

Sometimes, no...often, I'll wish I was born in another era. I dunno when, precisely, I just don't quite feel like the age of iPods and flat screens and WiFi and over-medicating the world is the answer. Back to the point, the whole issue about internet safety just boggles my mind. It takes me back to kindergarten, when our counselor came to the classroom and put on a little show about not talking to strangers or getting into their car and such. Don't talk to strangers...hm...now I write a blog for all to see. Mwahaha! And is it narcissism? Well, I'd say not, seeing how while blogs ain't that old, there have always been feature writers, columns in papers, and the like. And, of course, books! "Primitive versions of the DVD" (Sex & the City). That's what I like to do. Read! I'm kind of crazy with reading, but sometimes I'll get in a slump where I don't read as much and I develop a bond with Netflix instant viewing, instead.

Makes me wonder what it would've been like to grow up in, say, the 20s-40s, where the main multimedia entertainment outlets were vaudeville at first, then radio or phonograph. Then the movies, usually black and white, but hey, the addition of sound was quite welcome (after some hiccups). TV still didn't even come around for a good 10 years. No cell phones, either. When I was a little kid, I remember having to stop at a pay phone and call somebody when you get some place or pull over along the way if you wanted to touch base. Now we're all spoiled with our texting and tweeting craze and BS.



This has left out another point I wanted to touch on -- clothing. I love retro 30-40s style glam. I've always loved clothes. And the body types of women were much different than they are now, too.


Jean Harlow really knew how to flaunt it to the max and was slick as can be. She was the original blonde bombshell before Marilyn, before Madonna, before all the other wannabes. Shame that she died in her twenties from uremic poisoning.

And geez, even in the past 15 years, attitudes have changed. Go rent "Clueless" and you'll see there has even been a change in what's a sexy body type since then. Alicia Silverstone definitely had some curves. Not curves in the "oh you're not fat you're curvy!" BS that makes all the real curvy and non tubs of cellulite women shy away from the term (ahem...myself), but literally, the flattering, and HEALTHY female frame. And let's be serious, the girl was probably a size 6. If only...



That body type would be one I'd aspire to have. Psh, I know I couldn't be a ruler of 10% body fat, so I'll set realistic goals. I'd rather aspire to those goals than resign myself to a slow descent into eventually becoming Jabba the Hutt.



Good Lord, only I could somehow segue from Alicia Silverstone to Jabba the Hutt. And it ain't gonna happen, the Jabba look, that is. No sir.

I feel as though I contradict myself now and again in here, but I chop that up to lack of sleep with a dash of delirium, so who's to say. In any case, I can be pretty fickle at times, what with being a libra. Oh I know, roll your eyes at the astrology thing. Hehe.

Not to mention the fact that this post started on an entirely different topic than how it ended. No, I don't have ADD, just a case of the sleepies. Time to hit the sheets, this is attempt numero....I dunno. We'll see if it's successful. Wish me luck in my noble quest.

Derelict of Duty

Should I cut my hair?

Resident of Blog Town, USA

Why hello, faithful readers (all 5 of you). Long time since I've posted a life update, from the looks of it, so here goes nothin'.

Life ain't half bad, these days. Although it has taken lots of effort to get writing jobs since I got home from Spain last summer, I'm pleased to say all that persistence paid off. The problem with getting writing gigs is you need clips to get a job and you need a job to get clips, so it's a catch 22 situation. Networking is the way to get noticed, too, because sending out emails to random people generally is a no-go situation.
Then, of course, the economy can bite you in the rear when you know you can contribute. Exhibit A: The Acorn newspaper, where I wrote for 3 summers in a row (2 as an intern, one as freelance) wouldn't take me back because they were firing not hiring. Sad face. But if there's one thing I am, it's stubborn, relentless, and unwilling to give up when I know I'm right. Geez, even if I think I'm wrong, I will go out of my way to prove otherwise. Debate skillz, I haz them. My plan is to go back to The Acorn office, brings my new clips, my updated resume, and have a chit chat with the managing editor or one of the editors I worked with, before, and hitch myself back to that wagon. I really enjoy writing the local stuff, and for the weekly newspapers, especially. The way I write, I like to let things simmer in the backburner of my brain rather than turn something around instantaneously. I mean, I can do both, but there's a method to my madness.

Writing for PhelpsSports.com has been a lot of fun. I've been going to Blenheim EquiSports events almost exclusively, and I just love their management.

VIP table (hehe!) at the last World Cup qualifier

A Blenheim banner in the Grand Prix field


It has been awesome getting to meet all these top riders, course designers, and trainers. Not only has it been great to write about what happens, but I've been using my inquisitive nature to pick their brains about just about anything. Lesson #1: people love to talk about themselves (exhibit A: this blog). I use that to my advantage when I'm talking to people and I try to form relationships where I can go back to the same people over and over again. Try, anyway. Yep. Certain riders, in particular, have been extremely helpful in helping me learn the ropes of how the Grand Prix are run, what the courses are like (I have a new-found respect for course designers), and just so many things that it would take a novel to discuss them all.

Olaf Petersen Jr.'s course for the $50,000 Orange County Register CSI-W Grand Prix


A nice side effect of covering all these events is all that I've learned has reflected in my own riding, because more insight about the sport and the horses themselves has been a huge help. Knowledge can't be underestimated in terms of personal improvement, is what I've found. I'm probably not ever gonna be a top rider (for one, lack of funds is gonna hold that dream back), but this writing stuff is at least a way to learn more, since I love horses. I can't see giving up horses even if I go bankrupt. What I may lack in talent I make up for as best I can with dedication.

Jennifer Crooks interview after she won first and second place in the $35,000 Spring Classic III Grand Prix

Susie Hutchison and Cantano, winning the $30,000 June Classic Grand Prix

A horse with a huge forelock from Hap Hansen's barn

Oh yeah, that's another thing. Trying to get more and more independent, which isn't always the easiest thing. My next goal is to move out of the 'rents house, which is gonna be huuuge overhaul into the way I've been living for the past year. It has been awesome not paying rent, mooching off the free food, mooching in lots of ways...but it really leaves me missing my independence from the 5 years I spent on my own in college and then in Spain when I was almost totally cut off from parental guidance in how I lived my life. I almost feel as though I've regressed from moving back in their house, like I'm willing to just slip back into being looked after, and I guess that's fine, but it's not as satisfying when I can live by myself. I'm also a really solitary person -- I like to be on my own, have my own space, decorate my own place, all that junk. So having my own place or at least sharing it with roommates will be a welcome change. I have to look into that soon, but I can't really afford crap right now since SoCal has to be the most expensive place in the US, which is another heap of discouragement. Bleh.

Hmmm, not the most uplifting way to end this blog entry, but nobody ever said I was a ball of sunshine. Life is good® overall, though. Hooray for that.

Eulogy for Grandma

My grandma was a strong willed woman, but she had a soft heart. That's something I'd like to say I've inherited from her. That, and her love of writing and reading anything she could get her hands on.

Anyway, let me begin -- In 1999, my grandma finally made it to Ireland, where her family is originally from. She was too nervous and thought it would be too bold to introduce herself to her relatives there, the closest being a first cousin once removed (in English, her father's cousin). Her name is Mary Daly, by the way, and she lives in Cahersiveen in County Kerry, Ireland, and I've had the good fortune to have met her. She has to be the sweetest woman anyone has ever met, so it's really sad my grandma never had the chance to meet her face to face, although they did correspond through snail mail letters once they did finally connect. Luckily, my great aunt Liz met her when she went to Ireland. And my grandma did get the chance to meet one of Mary Daly's children, Bernadette, who I have met, as well. Bernadette and my grandma are actually quite similar, in my mind. For one, they both use the word "lovely," which kind of makes me smile. "Lovely" is as common a word as "great" to Americans, in Ireland, is what I thought.

Let's go further back (ahem): my grandma's grandma (my great-great grandmother) was the one who emigrated from Ireland, in the late 1800s. Bridget Moriarty was her name, as a matter of fact. As a result, grandma grew up hearing about County Kerry, Ireland, where Bridget was born. My great-grandpa Parker, her son, was born in the USA, though, in the early 1900s. He married my great-grandma Elizabeth O'Keefe, then, in the 1920s. They were absolutely crazy for each other. They ended up having four children, and my grandma was the oldest. After her were Tom, Jerry, and Elizabeth AKA Betty Ann. Fourteen years separate the siblings.

Even though grandma was a caretaker, that’s not the only quality of hers that’s worth mentioning. She was a strong-willed woman, and I know she wouldn't want me to stand here and cry while I pay tribute to her, so I'm drumming up courage from her strength to help me.

Back to what I was saying, I met my Irish relatives in 2009. After my trip, I called my grandma long-distance, from where I was living, in Spain. I was a bit nervous to call my grandma, if only because I hadn’t spoken to her in months apart from the postcards I sent her whenever I could. I last saw her at my brother Patrick's wedding. Luckily for me, she was rather upbeat at the time and my spirits lifted to hear the excitement apparent in her voice by hearing my voice. She was thrilled to hear about my time in Ireland, and more than happy to give me her own details about the Parker family, seeing how I never got the opportunity to meet my great grandpa Parker and I barely remember my great grandma Parker, even though she lived to be 96 and she died only 6 years ago. She gave me the details about her current situation at home and with the family, but she seemed more interested in hearing about my life. She was equally eager to share with me any details I asked about the Parker family and her fond memories of her parents and her Irish grandmother. My Great Aunt Betty Ann was equally generous in providing details about the Parker family, I should probably add. Anyway, during that phone call, grandma and I ended up talking for a long time, and I remember even volunteering information to her about my life that she was open to discuss. That's one of the things that I loved about her, was you could springboard an idea off her and she didn't seem to be too fazed by much, she'd give her thoughts and even offer to say a prayer for me.

Sadly, that was the last time I got to chat with G'ma. That's literally how I referred to her when I'd write her, "g-ma," which she seemed to think was funny, seeing how she laughed at that on the phone when she brought it up. I never had nicknames for my grandparents like "nana" or anything silly, that was just what I wrote out of laziness and to fit "Dear Grandma and Grandpa" at the top of a postcard.

Well, that's a brief run through about my thoughts of my grandma. I know I didn't see her all that much compared to the rest of my aunts, uncles and cousins seeing how she lived in Chicago and I've been a rolling stone, but I did gather moss because I'm a member of this family that others may envy. In any case, we'll miss her.
Rest in peace, grandma. We love you.
1933-2010

Yawn/stretch

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.

Monthly update

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 & bad news

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.

I never know what to say for the blog titles.

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.

Bloggy McBloggerson

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.

Zebras

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.