Props to Mignon for supplying the idea for the title.
Surprisingly, my so-called indentured servitude was not as bad as I'd imagined it would be. It was a few degrees under sweltering with humidity about 10% under sauna level, but at least we weren't hit by the severe thunderstorms forecasted.
The "paintball" group turned out to be a spin-off from D&D. We were greeted by a "witch" in some none-too-appealing garb, who politely informed us they'd be running around the property wailing on eachother with foam swords, but to just ignore them because we didn't exist in their world...unless we were monsters trying to attack them (which I rather fancied the idea of).
Ms. Witchy was actually an alum of my University, which seemed a slight embarrassment to Ms. Ditz. She threw a few satchels of birdseed at us ("spells") and was ready to depart when a Knight in Shining Armor strode up. We heard the clanking from a ways away and one of the girls commented, "Wow, he looks hot." She'll never live that down, even though the man was likely more than twice her 18-years-of-age and she meant "sweaty in all that armor" not "wow his sword is long."
Sir Knight allowed us to wail on him for a bit with his foam sword, saying it was good practice for his upcoming "duel to the death" against two ogres. Nothing personal, but my money would be on Shrek & Fiona. Especially if Donkey was there.
The majority of my group (apart from the 2 instructors) are 18-year-old freshmen who were a little harsh with comments about how they "wouldn't be caught dead running around with a foam sword fighting Ogres in their forties." I was a little pissed that the instructors didn't back me up in my comments of, "everyone has little quirks and odd hobbies - it's not like they wear that garb to work. They've been very nice to us and not been disrespectful to us in any way (with an unvoiced 'we should return the favor')" Matter of fact, Ms. Ditz was among the girls making comments about "crazies" and "weirdos."
Everyone has their own thing they do for fun. I wasn't about to make snide comments about a group of people who had been perfectly nice to us, even let us wail on them with swords. Although I will say this, I had an unresistable urge to quote Monty Python. In particular, "We are the Knights who say NI!"
So psyched about my trip up to Pittsburgh to see Spamalot, but that's a story for another night.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
New Student Disorientation
Or maybe it was orientation? Only thing I'm sure of is I took the long way back to my car and didn't even realize until turning back to the short cut would've been longer than the scenic route.
Today I learned the Alma Mater. It was lead by the head of the English department, who will probably end up being my advisor. She's a jovial woman with a wonderful singing voice and a bright red mullet. In fact, two of the professors who spoke today sported a Mississippi Mud-Flap. Doesn't do much in the way of my attempts to convince dormers that we local commuters are not inbred hicks running through the woods with guns in lieu of any better pastime because inebriation has left us impotent.
Speaking of hicks with guns. (what a segue) Tomorrow we're volunteering to clean up a local girl scout camp. That is, we're being forced to volunteer, so I think it counts more as slave labor, but it gives us one of the 16 health credits we need to achieve before graduating.
My FYS instructor is a tad ditzy. I'm not sure what her exact role at the University is, but I have gleamed they don't find her competent enough to teach a real class. She may be an alum.
Anywho, Madame Ditzy was speaking quite exuberantly about our forced-volunteer work tomorrow. (as a side note, I have nothing against volunteering, I do it quite often, but I prefer to choose when and where - I was supposed to be at work today and yesterday, but Thursday I stumbled upon the knowledge that all First Year Students must be present Fri & Sat....or suffer the horrid consequences...I guess) (sorry, went off track again - back to the point-) Apparently, she imparted, "there is a group of locals who have rented out the site and will be running through the woods trying to shoot eachother." Anyone seen Deliverance? I could nearly hear the banjo pickings in my classmates' imaginations. Not to worry, however, because they'll be in a different area than us. One suddenly pasty freshman asked if we would be provided protection against stray bullets. "Oh, no!" Madame Ditz assured her, "They're not using real guns....oh, wait....no....the guns are real....but the bullets aren't? Something. It's a game - that's why they're shooting eachother."
As much as I was enjoying the looks of terror, I didn't want to be the only one from my class to show up for Egyptian Slave Labor tomorrow, so I supplied "paintball." *sigh* "What fools these mortals be."
Today I learned the Alma Mater. It was lead by the head of the English department, who will probably end up being my advisor. She's a jovial woman with a wonderful singing voice and a bright red mullet. In fact, two of the professors who spoke today sported a Mississippi Mud-Flap. Doesn't do much in the way of my attempts to convince dormers that we local commuters are not inbred hicks running through the woods with guns in lieu of any better pastime because inebriation has left us impotent.
Speaking of hicks with guns. (what a segue) Tomorrow we're volunteering to clean up a local girl scout camp. That is, we're being forced to volunteer, so I think it counts more as slave labor, but it gives us one of the 16 health credits we need to achieve before graduating.
My FYS instructor is a tad ditzy. I'm not sure what her exact role at the University is, but I have gleamed they don't find her competent enough to teach a real class. She may be an alum.
Anywho, Madame Ditzy was speaking quite exuberantly about our forced-volunteer work tomorrow. (as a side note, I have nothing against volunteering, I do it quite often, but I prefer to choose when and where - I was supposed to be at work today and yesterday, but Thursday I stumbled upon the knowledge that all First Year Students must be present Fri & Sat....or suffer the horrid consequences...I guess) (sorry, went off track again - back to the point-) Apparently, she imparted, "there is a group of locals who have rented out the site and will be running through the woods trying to shoot eachother." Anyone seen Deliverance? I could nearly hear the banjo pickings in my classmates' imaginations. Not to worry, however, because they'll be in a different area than us. One suddenly pasty freshman asked if we would be provided protection against stray bullets. "Oh, no!" Madame Ditz assured her, "They're not using real guns....oh, wait....no....the guns are real....but the bullets aren't? Something. It's a game - that's why they're shooting eachother."
As much as I was enjoying the looks of terror, I didn't want to be the only one from my class to show up for Egyptian Slave Labor tomorrow, so I supplied "paintball." *sigh* "What fools these mortals be."
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Hard Riding for Hardly a Rider
Horse Lover's Camp is over. Can I get a *woot!*? It's almost odd not having the little ratkins scampering all over this week. No teary-eyed pre-teens coming up to me and stuttering, "Um....Cody caught a baby rabbit."
File under "Reason's I'm going to hell" - I did get slight enjoyment over telling the girl it was probably too late to do anything for the rabbit. Don't get me wrong, I felt bad for the baby bunny, but the girl was an irritating brat.
The volunteers have been persistently asking me if I'll be returning to my dream job of hit-woman now that I'm going down to part-time at the stables. I can only assume they have work for me by the frequency of their curiosity.
Last Sunday, to celebrate the end of camp, we had a party for the three staff members and ump-teen-something volunteers. We were supposed to chill out, eat some food, play horsey games (like stable style Jeopardy). Instead, I nibbled some snacks, then was dragged around by an exuberant 11year-old as we played a trivia scavenger hunt game. We're given a note card with a question on it, which will lead us to another note card with a question on it, which we need to look-up the answer to (if we don't know it) so we can receive another note card with a question on it. I wasn't thrilled with the cycle of running back and forth across the acreage when this was supposed to be a day off.
After the savager hunt, we went riding. I love riding, but I'd been told we wouldn't be riding that afternoon, so I wore a cotton tank with a bra built in, ala-WalMart. Not the best support option for a double-D girl riding a horse who likes to trot.
As much as I do enjoy riding, I don't get to do it very often, and I rode hard for someone not accustomed to it. My boobs hurt. Every woman there came up to me afterwards and said I was a braver woman than they. Bravery, stupidity - funny how often those two can be confused. I also feel like I've been doing splits. No more cantering for me for a while. I did go down trail today, although I think I lost my kneecaps somewhere out in the woods.
Got me thinking how people think they're in shape, even people who exercise every day & stick to a rigid diet. If you're not accustomed to certain things, your muscles will let you know the next morning. Muscles you didn't know you had, and had certainly never thought of working out before. It's been a while since my thighs have had a good pounding, but I guess now I'll just be in better shape for the next time I get into some rigorous sex. Or cantering. Whichever.
Any muscles you were recently reminded of that you rarely use?
File under "Reason's I'm going to hell" - I did get slight enjoyment over telling the girl it was probably too late to do anything for the rabbit. Don't get me wrong, I felt bad for the baby bunny, but the girl was an irritating brat.
The volunteers have been persistently asking me if I'll be returning to my dream job of hit-woman now that I'm going down to part-time at the stables. I can only assume they have work for me by the frequency of their curiosity.
Last Sunday, to celebrate the end of camp, we had a party for the three staff members and ump-teen-something volunteers. We were supposed to chill out, eat some food, play horsey games (like stable style Jeopardy). Instead, I nibbled some snacks, then was dragged around by an exuberant 11year-old as we played a trivia scavenger hunt game. We're given a note card with a question on it, which will lead us to another note card with a question on it, which we need to look-up the answer to (if we don't know it) so we can receive another note card with a question on it. I wasn't thrilled with the cycle of running back and forth across the acreage when this was supposed to be a day off.
After the savager hunt, we went riding. I love riding, but I'd been told we wouldn't be riding that afternoon, so I wore a cotton tank with a bra built in, ala-WalMart. Not the best support option for a double-D girl riding a horse who likes to trot.
As much as I do enjoy riding, I don't get to do it very often, and I rode hard for someone not accustomed to it. My boobs hurt. Every woman there came up to me afterwards and said I was a braver woman than they. Bravery, stupidity - funny how often those two can be confused. I also feel like I've been doing splits. No more cantering for me for a while. I did go down trail today, although I think I lost my kneecaps somewhere out in the woods.
Got me thinking how people think they're in shape, even people who exercise every day & stick to a rigid diet. If you're not accustomed to certain things, your muscles will let you know the next morning. Muscles you didn't know you had, and had certainly never thought of working out before. It's been a while since my thighs have had a good pounding, but I guess now I'll just be in better shape for the next time I get into some rigorous sex. Or cantering. Whichever.
Any muscles you were recently reminded of that you rarely use?
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Beautiful and Terrifying
Today is the one year anniversary of my Gram moving into the house we now occupy. I remember how beautiful I thought the house was...and how terrified Gram was about the decision she had made.
Today, by no design but chance, I found myself in quite a similar situation.
I'm going back to school. After a few years of sitting on my tush ho-humming over my options, some magical little motivation bug flew by and stung me in the ass.
I've been sloughing through Financial Aid forms for the past few months. I wanted to be certain I could afford college before I registered for classes. Now that I'm home from vacation, my summer job is winding down, and I awoke to the shock of crunch time. Classes start in less than two weeks.
Yesterday I called Financial Aid, who did not return my call. Today, I got through and was told it's not too late to finalize for the fall semester (that shivering, wide-eyed child in me was hoping I'd passed the deadline by *accident*) (because I feel less lazy if I qualify lack of motivation as an accident of timing).
After work, I drove down to the University campus for a few hours. I paid my deposit - the last step I'd been putting off - because putting forth my own money finalizes things in a way signing forms doesn't. A chipper young girl in capri's walked me to the dean's office to meet with her in lieu of an academic advisor.
Bouncy little sunshine tried to make conversation. I tried to breathe. The summer campus overcomes you with a warm-brick heat from the surrounding buildings. Trees bloom lush and vibrant while grass wilts under co-ed picnics. I couldn't help but think how beautiful the campus is, and what a monument this journey I'm embarking on is, and cripe if my heart wasn't about to burst through my chest. I don't recall the last time I was so nervous. Probably on a roller-coaster, except in that case I had the assurance of a safety bar and the knowledge if I hated it, the ride would be over in under five minutes. Not to mention the cost of that particular adventure ride is a drop in the bucket.
The dean was very nice, and oddly complimentary. Not that she was sucking up, just that I felt edgy and uncomfortable as she commented, almost to herself, how good my SAT scores were. I smiled meekly and bit my tongue to hold back from saying that was years ago. She wanted to put me in calculus, my god! I do enjoy math, and I'd like to take calculus...eventually. But the last time I took a math course was half a decade ago, and it was only pre-calculus. I could use a refresher.
Calculus is waiting a semester, while I get used to learning again. I'm enrolled in some honors English course with a focus on professional writing. I told her she can dump me in as many English classes as she can find if I can skip the History class. I also made a bid for 21st century history, but was stuck with just 20th century.
All in all, a very productive (while still terrifying) afternoon. I have a shiny new photo ID which will never see the light of day because the picture makes me look like I have black eyes. I have a $216 voucher for books I'll try to pick up tomorrow. Also tomorrow, I need to make an appointment to get my college shots. Not looking forward to that.
Class starts the 28th. I'm an English Major until I decide otherwise. I'll keep you updated as soon as the nervous breakdown subsides. Gram and I are celebrating tonight with a bottle of Champagne: to new beginnings when most people think they're too old to take the chance.
Today, by no design but chance, I found myself in quite a similar situation.
I'm going back to school. After a few years of sitting on my tush ho-humming over my options, some magical little motivation bug flew by and stung me in the ass.
I've been sloughing through Financial Aid forms for the past few months. I wanted to be certain I could afford college before I registered for classes. Now that I'm home from vacation, my summer job is winding down, and I awoke to the shock of crunch time. Classes start in less than two weeks.
Yesterday I called Financial Aid, who did not return my call. Today, I got through and was told it's not too late to finalize for the fall semester (that shivering, wide-eyed child in me was hoping I'd passed the deadline by *accident*) (because I feel less lazy if I qualify lack of motivation as an accident of timing).
After work, I drove down to the University campus for a few hours. I paid my deposit - the last step I'd been putting off - because putting forth my own money finalizes things in a way signing forms doesn't. A chipper young girl in capri's walked me to the dean's office to meet with her in lieu of an academic advisor.
Bouncy little sunshine tried to make conversation. I tried to breathe. The summer campus overcomes you with a warm-brick heat from the surrounding buildings. Trees bloom lush and vibrant while grass wilts under co-ed picnics. I couldn't help but think how beautiful the campus is, and what a monument this journey I'm embarking on is, and cripe if my heart wasn't about to burst through my chest. I don't recall the last time I was so nervous. Probably on a roller-coaster, except in that case I had the assurance of a safety bar and the knowledge if I hated it, the ride would be over in under five minutes. Not to mention the cost of that particular adventure ride is a drop in the bucket.
The dean was very nice, and oddly complimentary. Not that she was sucking up, just that I felt edgy and uncomfortable as she commented, almost to herself, how good my SAT scores were. I smiled meekly and bit my tongue to hold back from saying that was years ago. She wanted to put me in calculus, my god! I do enjoy math, and I'd like to take calculus...eventually. But the last time I took a math course was half a decade ago, and it was only pre-calculus. I could use a refresher.
Calculus is waiting a semester, while I get used to learning again. I'm enrolled in some honors English course with a focus on professional writing. I told her she can dump me in as many English classes as she can find if I can skip the History class. I also made a bid for 21st century history, but was stuck with just 20th century.
All in all, a very productive (while still terrifying) afternoon. I have a shiny new photo ID which will never see the light of day because the picture makes me look like I have black eyes. I have a $216 voucher for books I'll try to pick up tomorrow. Also tomorrow, I need to make an appointment to get my college shots. Not looking forward to that.
Class starts the 28th. I'm an English Major until I decide otherwise. I'll keep you updated as soon as the nervous breakdown subsides. Gram and I are celebrating tonight with a bottle of Champagne: to new beginnings when most people think they're too old to take the chance.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Pandemonium
Okay, yes, I'm sorry. I know I've been sorely remiss in posting lately. Part of the reason is I'm busy, I haven't had a day off since my vacation - not that I'm complaining, although getting stomped on my Cappy wasn't anything worth celebrating. The other reason is, having my foot trampled and being shit on by a baby chick are about the two biggest news headlines in my life at the moment.
SO, to make up for the lack of drama, I'm posting a story of mayhem from my trip to the RWA conference in Atlanta about a week back.
On the last day of the conference, a luncheon was held with Christina Dodd as the keynote speaker. She was nice enough to set a bundle of 2 of her books and a cute little notebook on each seat. My bag was already stuffed to seam-stretching capacity from book signings, so I had to carry these three latest conquests.
Immediately after the luncheon, I had a workshop, and the luncheon ran a little late. I had to pee more than a woman in her final trimester & flew to the women's bathroom before my workshop, but there was a line out both doors.
I fidgeted, squirmed, and maybe whimpered a little, because I caught the attention of the man standing in the intersecting line for a book signing. He suggested I run across to the men's restroom which did not have a line. I said I'd love to if he'd pop in & make sure it was empty. Which he graciously agreed to as long as his space in line was saved.
So, I scamper over to the men's room with two other ladies from the line. Our hero in the pink shirt informed us there was a man in the bathroom, but I told him to just let us know when he was done. A lamenting look crossed his face as he said, "He has a newspaper in there with him - I think he's in for the long haul."
I cracked the door just enough to call in, "Excuse me, sir? Could you please hurry up a little, or pinch it off or something? We really have to pee!"
The hero in pink doubled over & turned red, my two co-conspirators from the line to the ladies room almost bailed from shock and embarrassment, but my straining bladder didn't afford me tight lips.
After a moment, we sent the man in pick back into the restroom to ask the man with the Times if he'd mind us coming in to use the stalls. Despite my somewhat snide comment, he kindly said he wouldn't mind (or call hotel security on us).
There were two stalls still available, which meant one woman was standing at the sink talking to the other two when a man waltzed in to use a urinal. (there were two doors into the bathroom & the hero in pink was standing guard at the wrong one, apparently) I was in the stall, but story is a look of terror blanched his features & he turned tail in a hurry. I just hope he realized we were women & hadn't thought we were drag queens or something. You'd figure a man would be curious about women in the men's room, not terrified to a point of paleness.
Business done, we thanked the man with the Times & I ran to my workshop (barefoot, because my feet were quite unhappy over my choice in footwear of the previous day).
Bundling up my belongings as the workshop finished up, I realized I was missing the Christina Dodd books I'd received at the Luncheon.
In a hotel brimming with 2200 women, it's damn hard to find a man who isn't busy. I finally grabbed hold of a bell hop & asked, "Excuse me, could you please do me a favor?"
"Sure, what do ya need?"
"I need you to go get some books out of the bathroom for me."
*look of skepticism*
"No, no - the MEN'S bathroom!"
*look of skepticism deepens, blends with confusion, and just a hint of fear*
Good news is, I got my books back - bad news is, the bell hop had to tell his friends, plus - some of my roomies saw me thanking him for bringing me books out of the men's bathroom and had to ask.
Also, this same bell hop just happened to be standing around the luggage rack the next morning as I was checking out & felt it necessary if I'd managed to "stay out of trouble - and men's bathrooms" which of course was overheard by his buddies.
I seem to have acquired a certain reputation at the Atlanta Marriott, among other places. Good thing con won't be back there for a while yet.
SO, to make up for the lack of drama, I'm posting a story of mayhem from my trip to the RWA conference in Atlanta about a week back.
On the last day of the conference, a luncheon was held with Christina Dodd as the keynote speaker. She was nice enough to set a bundle of 2 of her books and a cute little notebook on each seat. My bag was already stuffed to seam-stretching capacity from book signings, so I had to carry these three latest conquests.
Immediately after the luncheon, I had a workshop, and the luncheon ran a little late. I had to pee more than a woman in her final trimester & flew to the women's bathroom before my workshop, but there was a line out both doors.
I fidgeted, squirmed, and maybe whimpered a little, because I caught the attention of the man standing in the intersecting line for a book signing. He suggested I run across to the men's restroom which did not have a line. I said I'd love to if he'd pop in & make sure it was empty. Which he graciously agreed to as long as his space in line was saved.
So, I scamper over to the men's room with two other ladies from the line. Our hero in the pink shirt informed us there was a man in the bathroom, but I told him to just let us know when he was done. A lamenting look crossed his face as he said, "He has a newspaper in there with him - I think he's in for the long haul."
I cracked the door just enough to call in, "Excuse me, sir? Could you please hurry up a little, or pinch it off or something? We really have to pee!"
The hero in pink doubled over & turned red, my two co-conspirators from the line to the ladies room almost bailed from shock and embarrassment, but my straining bladder didn't afford me tight lips.
After a moment, we sent the man in pick back into the restroom to ask the man with the Times if he'd mind us coming in to use the stalls. Despite my somewhat snide comment, he kindly said he wouldn't mind (or call hotel security on us).
There were two stalls still available, which meant one woman was standing at the sink talking to the other two when a man waltzed in to use a urinal. (there were two doors into the bathroom & the hero in pink was standing guard at the wrong one, apparently) I was in the stall, but story is a look of terror blanched his features & he turned tail in a hurry. I just hope he realized we were women & hadn't thought we were drag queens or something. You'd figure a man would be curious about women in the men's room, not terrified to a point of paleness.
Business done, we thanked the man with the Times & I ran to my workshop (barefoot, because my feet were quite unhappy over my choice in footwear of the previous day).
Bundling up my belongings as the workshop finished up, I realized I was missing the Christina Dodd books I'd received at the Luncheon.
In a hotel brimming with 2200 women, it's damn hard to find a man who isn't busy. I finally grabbed hold of a bell hop & asked, "Excuse me, could you please do me a favor?"
"Sure, what do ya need?"
"I need you to go get some books out of the bathroom for me."
*look of skepticism*
"No, no - the MEN'S bathroom!"
*look of skepticism deepens, blends with confusion, and just a hint of fear*
Good news is, I got my books back - bad news is, the bell hop had to tell his friends, plus - some of my roomies saw me thanking him for bringing me books out of the men's bathroom and had to ask.
Also, this same bell hop just happened to be standing around the luggage rack the next morning as I was checking out & felt it necessary if I'd managed to "stay out of trouble - and men's bathrooms" which of course was overheard by his buddies.
I seem to have acquired a certain reputation at the Atlanta Marriott, among other places. Good thing con won't be back there for a while yet.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Return from Hotlanta
For those of you who have been waiting on the edge of your seats, I'm alive.
Yesterday I returned from the Romance Writers of America yearly conference. Atlanta is fun, but so damn hot most of the buildings have enclosed walkways between them. I'm convinced all the humidity is produced in the MARTA (Metropolitan Area Regional Transit Authority...or something like that) & then pumped up to the city via secret tunnels, because cities that large always have secret tunnels.
ANYwho, the con was a blast. I met a lot of famous authors, and a lot of soon to be famous authors, and a hot guy in the elevator who hit on me when I was dressed up for the awards ceremony.
To give you an idea of the size of this con, I made up a list (ala-Mastercard commercial style):
Baggage on departure: 1 checked bag, 1 light carry-on
Baggage on return: 1 22lb checked bag, 1 87lb checked bag, and 1 carry-on weighing in at "ugh"
Blisters: 3
Bruises: 2
Cumulative of hours slept in Atlanta (Monday thru Sunday): 37ish
Souvenirs bought for me: 4 (not counting books)
Souvenirs bought for others: 2
Books acquired to replace unsigned favorites: 9
Hardcovers acquired: 8
ARC's acquired: 3
Books with a heroine sharing my name (albeit spelled differently): 1
Books I realized I'd received two of when unpacking yesterday: 3
Anthologies: 9
Paperbacks: 93
New Authors to read: 91
Total number of books brought home, not counting the 3 I took down with me: 101
Knowing I'll never reach the end of my TBR (to be read) Pile: PRICY!
Great news is, in addition to an ass load of books, I also came home with an ass load of new ideas, and more importantly, the know-how to properly develop them. *woot!*
More later, when I have time & energy. I have some great pictures, but Blogger is having a snit & won't let me upload any pictures off my new Digital Camera. Anyone with tips, ideas, suggestions, etc. is welcome to comment - I'm really bummed about not being able to do anything with the 200+ photos I uploaded onto my comp.
Yesterday I returned from the Romance Writers of America yearly conference. Atlanta is fun, but so damn hot most of the buildings have enclosed walkways between them. I'm convinced all the humidity is produced in the MARTA (Metropolitan Area Regional Transit Authority...or something like that) & then pumped up to the city via secret tunnels, because cities that large always have secret tunnels.
ANYwho, the con was a blast. I met a lot of famous authors, and a lot of soon to be famous authors, and a hot guy in the elevator who hit on me when I was dressed up for the awards ceremony.
To give you an idea of the size of this con, I made up a list (ala-Mastercard commercial style):
Baggage on departure: 1 checked bag, 1 light carry-on
Baggage on return: 1 22lb checked bag, 1 87lb checked bag, and 1 carry-on weighing in at "ugh"
Blisters: 3
Bruises: 2
Cumulative of hours slept in Atlanta (Monday thru Sunday): 37ish
Souvenirs bought for me: 4 (not counting books)
Souvenirs bought for others: 2
Books acquired to replace unsigned favorites: 9
Hardcovers acquired: 8
ARC's acquired: 3
Books with a heroine sharing my name (albeit spelled differently): 1
Books I realized I'd received two of when unpacking yesterday: 3
Anthologies: 9
Paperbacks: 93
New Authors to read: 91
Total number of books brought home, not counting the 3 I took down with me: 101
Knowing I'll never reach the end of my TBR (to be read) Pile: PRICY!
Great news is, in addition to an ass load of books, I also came home with an ass load of new ideas, and more importantly, the know-how to properly develop them. *woot!*
More later, when I have time & energy. I have some great pictures, but Blogger is having a snit & won't let me upload any pictures off my new Digital Camera. Anyone with tips, ideas, suggestions, etc. is welcome to comment - I'm really bummed about not being able to do anything with the 200+ photos I uploaded onto my comp.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Crawling Back Out Into the World
Life has condensed itself for me lately. I wake up, eat breakfast, head to work, come home, shower, watch Jeopardy! and go to sleep.
I don't get online for a few hours every night like I used to. I'm lucky if I get on at all. I don't get to read much, either. A book I could finish in two days now takes me two weeks. It's good to have a job that's hard work and wears me out. I actually love the stables, I arrive early and stay late. I don't say "I'm working today," it's "I'll be at the stables today." Still, I miss the other lazy activities which had been so much a part of my life. I feel as though I'm falling out of touch with my internet friends. Although it's NOT Mignon's fault (as far as I know), my blog has slipped into disrepair, which bothers me because although I do it for fun, I do see it as a responsibility.
What this all comes down to, is time management and motivation. I'm actually excellent and managing my time. My downfall is I need to be motivated enough towards a goal to fit it in. This applies to many areas of my life. Anything without immediate results (such as a guaranteed paycheck, or not gagging on the smell of the litter box) falls low on my list of achievements. Not that I don't want to accomplish the task, just that I prefer to schedule based on return.
So how do you push back things you know will give you immediate rewards or satisfaction for the long-haul project you know will give you the most joy? I always say if they bottled and sold motivation, I'd buy it, but until then I just have to keep forcing myself to make time. Read later, write now!
As a closing note, I give you a picture of the Budweiser Clydesdales which will be staying at our stables this coming week. Tomorrow I'll be moving all our horses to the back stables and cleaning out the front stable for the Clydes. A useless effort, in my opinion, since no matter how clean our stable is, it'll still seem like a ghetthotel compared to their usual accommodations. Think Hilton, for horses.
I don't get online for a few hours every night like I used to. I'm lucky if I get on at all. I don't get to read much, either. A book I could finish in two days now takes me two weeks. It's good to have a job that's hard work and wears me out. I actually love the stables, I arrive early and stay late. I don't say "I'm working today," it's "I'll be at the stables today." Still, I miss the other lazy activities which had been so much a part of my life. I feel as though I'm falling out of touch with my internet friends. Although it's NOT Mignon's fault (as far as I know), my blog has slipped into disrepair, which bothers me because although I do it for fun, I do see it as a responsibility.
What this all comes down to, is time management and motivation. I'm actually excellent and managing my time. My downfall is I need to be motivated enough towards a goal to fit it in. This applies to many areas of my life. Anything without immediate results (such as a guaranteed paycheck, or not gagging on the smell of the litter box) falls low on my list of achievements. Not that I don't want to accomplish the task, just that I prefer to schedule based on return.
So how do you push back things you know will give you immediate rewards or satisfaction for the long-haul project you know will give you the most joy? I always say if they bottled and sold motivation, I'd buy it, but until then I just have to keep forcing myself to make time. Read later, write now!
As a closing note, I give you a picture of the Budweiser Clydesdales which will be staying at our stables this coming week. Tomorrow I'll be moving all our horses to the back stables and cleaning out the front stable for the Clydes. A useless effort, in my opinion, since no matter how clean our stable is, it'll still seem like a ghetthotel compared to their usual accommodations. Think Hilton, for horses.
Monday, July 03, 2006
4th Post a Day Early...and a Game!
Token Fireworks Image.
Happy Forth of July to my American blogees, and for the Canadians, Happy Blow-Things-Up-to-Make-Noise-which-Represents-Your-Masculinity-Via-Decibels-but-Try-Not-to-End-Up-in-the-Hospital-with-Third-Degree-Burns-and-Missing-Part-of-an-Ear-Ala-Mike-Tyson Day...they do that in Canada too, don't they? I've always kinda hoped the stupidity wasn't limited to the US.
In other news, I've decided not to leave everyone completely unoccupied until Saturday. You've been loyal and visited me daily, I should repay you for your kindness. SO - I'm going to put up a game to entertain until my next post this weekend.
Today's game is sort of a "get-to-know-everyone" deal. I'll start by asking a question, a personal question. Whomever feels up to answering can chime in, and as a reward for answering gets to post the next question. The questions should be designed to find things out about bloggers you may not get to learn on their blog. You can be funny or serious, but your questions must pertain to the anonymous blogger who comes in next, no random, "Why do fish smell?" questions.
Ready? Go!
Starter Question -
What three things are you most afraid of?
Happy Forth of July to my American blogees, and for the Canadians, Happy Blow-Things-Up-to-Make-Noise-which-Represents-Your-Masculinity-Via-Decibels-but-Try-Not-to-End-Up-in-the-Hospital-with-Third-Degree-Burns-and-Missing-Part-of-an-Ear-Ala-Mike-Tyson Day...they do that in Canada too, don't they? I've always kinda hoped the stupidity wasn't limited to the US.
In other news, I've decided not to leave everyone completely unoccupied until Saturday. You've been loyal and visited me daily, I should repay you for your kindness. SO - I'm going to put up a game to entertain until my next post this weekend.
Today's game is sort of a "get-to-know-everyone" deal. I'll start by asking a question, a personal question. Whomever feels up to answering can chime in, and as a reward for answering gets to post the next question. The questions should be designed to find things out about bloggers you may not get to learn on their blog. You can be funny or serious, but your questions must pertain to the anonymous blogger who comes in next, no random, "Why do fish smell?" questions.
Ready? Go!
Starter Question -
What three things are you most afraid of?
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Today at the Stables I...
~Watched horsies play in the water through.
~Skidded down a hill & got my ass covered in dirt to put the hose back in the trough after Red took it out to squirt Clyde with it.
~Learned how to groom.
~Learned how to pick a hoof.
~Learned how to squeeze a horse's tendon so he'll pick up his leg...in theory.
~Learned how to tack up (put the saddle, bridle, etc. on).
~Led WAY too many pony rides on a stubborn pony who wanted to do nothing but eat. The kids didn't notice, but Rain was walking forward, but had her head facing off to the right with a longing gaze that was unmistakably, "I want grass! *pout*"
~Got sunburn on my shoulders from WAY too many pony rides.
~Got a hideous tan line from wearing a bandanna (but at least my scalp didn't burn).
~Burned my boobs (damn low-cut tank tops!).
~Almost got peed on by a fussy pony because I wasn't letting her eat (see above)...(I swear that horse was laughing at me!).
~Stepped in mud.
~Stepped in poop.
~Stepped in pee (see above.).
~Fed horsies grain.
~Watered thirsty horses.
~Watered myself, because I was hot & muddy.
~Realized watering myself had been relieving, but ultimately a bad idea because the ass of my jeans took hours to dry.
~Came home for lunch.
~Realized I was too tired to eat & showered instead.
~Realized how red I was & decided I could go without a shirt inside the house.
~Tried to nap but was prevented from doing so from noisy kitties.
~Did laundry.
This was my day off. This doesn't look like a "day off" list. The highlights of my day were a little girl on a pony ride telling me she has a little brother. "He poops. He poops big." (Little brother is 2 months old.) Also, a woman who told me her first job was leading pony rides. She paused, and I saw a dawning realization on her face. "I'll bet that's why I have trouble with my foot now!"
Down Sides ~ I got stepped on by grumpy grass-less pony, but luckily she only grazed my foot with hers. Also - cleaning hooves is the second worst chore at the stables. I'm pretty sure all the horses know I'm inexperienced & enjoyed taking advantage of me. Bastard equines.
Still, I love it there & can't wait to start riding when we aren't as busy this fall.
~Skidded down a hill & got my ass covered in dirt to put the hose back in the trough after Red took it out to squirt Clyde with it.
~Learned how to groom.
~Learned how to pick a hoof.
~Learned how to squeeze a horse's tendon so he'll pick up his leg...in theory.
~Learned how to tack up (put the saddle, bridle, etc. on).
~Led WAY too many pony rides on a stubborn pony who wanted to do nothing but eat. The kids didn't notice, but Rain was walking forward, but had her head facing off to the right with a longing gaze that was unmistakably, "I want grass! *pout*"
~Got sunburn on my shoulders from WAY too many pony rides.
~Got a hideous tan line from wearing a bandanna (but at least my scalp didn't burn).
~Burned my boobs (damn low-cut tank tops!).
~Almost got peed on by a fussy pony because I wasn't letting her eat (see above)...(I swear that horse was laughing at me!).
~Stepped in mud.
~Stepped in poop.
~Stepped in pee (see above.).
~Fed horsies grain.
~Watered thirsty horses.
~Watered myself, because I was hot & muddy.
~Realized watering myself had been relieving, but ultimately a bad idea because the ass of my jeans took hours to dry.
~Came home for lunch.
~Realized I was too tired to eat & showered instead.
~Realized how red I was & decided I could go without a shirt inside the house.
~Tried to nap but was prevented from doing so from noisy kitties.
~Did laundry.
This was my day off. This doesn't look like a "day off" list. The highlights of my day were a little girl on a pony ride telling me she has a little brother. "He poops. He poops big." (Little brother is 2 months old.) Also, a woman who told me her first job was leading pony rides. She paused, and I saw a dawning realization on her face. "I'll bet that's why I have trouble with my foot now!"
Down Sides ~ I got stepped on by grumpy grass-less pony, but luckily she only grazed my foot with hers. Also - cleaning hooves is the second worst chore at the stables. I'm pretty sure all the horses know I'm inexperienced & enjoyed taking advantage of me. Bastard equines.
Still, I love it there & can't wait to start riding when we aren't as busy this fall.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Horse Sense-less
To my loyal blogees - sorry I've not updated lately. The new job has me busy and when I get home, I pretty much have enough energy left to shower and eat before passing out in bed. I may end up doing Saturday and Sunday posts instead of weekday posts. Basically, whenever I'm awake and not at work, I'll post.
SO, I owe everyone a catch-up for the week past at the Stable.
Monday - A new week of Horse Lover's Camp, which equals new kids and rampant craziness.
Tuesday - I was put in charge of feeding lunch to the horses, which entails climbing up the thin worn ladder steps (I'm not a ladder-person) into the hayloft. On Wednesday, I learned the left side is used to being fed first. One of the volunteers told me when I was half finished with the right side, but I'd already sort of figured it out by the left side horses neighing, stomping, and generally having a conniption while I fed the right side. By Thursday I'd remembered to bring scissors with me to cut open new bales of hay so I didn't have to run back down to the office.
After everyone has a flake of hay, I get to lug out the hose & water. Not bad until I'm done and have to roll the hose back up and get covered in mud (I try not to dwell too much on the fact that it isn't just mud).
Wednesday - I'm in the lounge and Rikki brings in half the day camp kids to wash their hands before going up to the outdoor arena. I see Burke, one of our horses, walking by outside. I think, "Someone has to be leading him - they're probably just standing on the other side where I can't see them."
One of the day camp kids, looking out the windows, plaintively exclaims, "Um, the horses are running away."
Behind Burke follows the two other horses who had been in the field with him. Rikki turns to me, jaw hanging open, and asks with a note of panic, "How'd they get out?"
"If I knew that, they wouldn't be out!"
Rikki & I head onto the porch, kids in tow until Rikki shoos them back into the lounge with a warning, "Okay, this is an EMERGENCY! Stay in here no matter what, and behave while we round up the horses."
The stables are just off of Rt 88, which is a main road and stays somewhat busy. There's a sign warning of horse & rider crossing, but most people don't notice, or don't heed it. So, Rikki & I are faced with 3 unbridled horses trotting through the parking lot towards 88, and only the two of us to stop them. If they make it across the road, they pretty much have free reign of the park. We'd need golf carts and lassos to hunt them. Okay, probably just other horses and some carrots, but I like the image of lassoing a horse from a golf cart.
Luckily, something spooked the horses & they went galloping away from the road, past us, and into the stable. Rikki ran after them through the breezeway to shut the doors behind them. I ran through the lobby (and massing children watching with glee) to cut them off before they ran through the wash room door and up the hill into the woods. (There are down sides to keeping horses in a 1700acre park)
On another stroke of luck, 2 horses ran into Troubles stall (hoping there was good food in there) and the third headed for the next stall down (Doc's). As Rikki came in through the breezeway, one of the horses ran from Trouble's stall into Doc's & I slid the door shut on both of them. Rikki headed off the third horse & tracked down bridles so we could lead them back to the meadow.
I got to be the one to stand calf deep in horse shit with a horse at each hand while Rikki went to get the final escapee. Damn brats kept running back up to the gate.
So, the question is, how did three horses get out at once? Certainly all three of them didn't jump the fence at once. And no one would have been forgetful enough to leave the gate open. That leaves us with one option, the bastards opened the latch themselves!
As you can likely imagine, this left us jumpy all day. At one point while sweeping the lobby, I looked up & saw Guiness's ass headed out through the washroom. I dropped the broom with terror-filled thoughts circling around, "Oh, no. Not again!" Turns out Guiness's own was taking him up to the pasture on the hill, wish she'd have told me! Every time I heard foot steps, I looked for the horse in the parking lot, which always turned out to just be a customer on the store porch.
Rikki and I knew we were just edgy, and as soon as the day ended, we'd be fine. Sadly, however, our fears did not go unconfirmed. Less than an hour after the three horses escaped the meadow, Jen called from the top of the hill on her cell phone saying one of the campers had let a horse get loose.
Rikki went running up the hill to help round up Flash. Elizabeth headed down the hill to lock him in if he ran into the stables. Flash headed for the tree line.
Flash is our cute new pony we got last weekend. Cute, but a pain in the ass. He ended up getting spooked by something in the woods (probably a squirrel) and veered down the path to the stables, right for poor little Elizabeth (a 13year old volunteer at the stables). Liz dove for cover and avoided getting trampled, even managed to recover in time to lock Flash in his stall when he came running through the stable.
By lunch, everyone was ready to call off day camp.
Thursday - Blessedly uneventful!!!!
Friday - The Budweiser Clydesdales are coming to visit in 2 weeks. (6 clydesdales, and the donkey) In order to accommodate them, we need to move some of our horses to the back stables. Jeanette told me to take the hose out to the back stables and fill the water buckets after I finished watering all the horses in the stables.
She said something about "unattach that and connect it to the green hose." I took that to mean unattach the hose. I rolled our 100ft hose over my shoulder to lug it out to the back stables, thoroughly soaking my right side. I find the green hose, and realize it's not attached to anything. I walk around the back stables & can't find any spigot. This is when I realize Jeanette meant to detach the nozzle attachment and connect the white hose to the green hose.
Much lugging and rolling later, every bucket in the vicinity was full, I was wet with both sweat and hose water, and I swear the damn horses were laughing at me!
Saturday - My day off! I didn't get out of bed until nearly noon. I've been behind on my reading and was looking forward to catching up today. The only item of interest today is the dream I had last night.
We've been having trouble getting the pool in a condition that is swimmable. Mostly because we know nothing about pools, and all the companies that could come help us are booked until about now. A man is coming Monday to hopefully open our pool, but that's not soon enough to keep my subconscious from acting up.
The frogs are back in the pool. I'm hoping for more spermzillas before the man comes to fill the pool with chemicals. In my dream, I was netting out the pool and going through the muck and leaves I was sifting out looking for tadpoles. I managed to catch two or three tadpoles. Then an octopus. Some squid. In no time there were seven-foot-long black catfish swimming around in our pond, fighting the 8ft squid ala-2000 Leagues Under the Sea.
When I'd finished netting out the pool and headed in for dinner, Gram was serving calamari. I asked her when she got calamari & she said, "Well I didn't want to waste all the squid and octopus you've been fishing out of the pool." I didn't want to hurt her feelings, because I love calamari at Red Lobster, but Red Lobster doesn't stock their kitchen from our back yard.
Soon various eels and jellyfish had joined the fracus. My two year old brother came to visit and was almost eaten by an 8ft squid I'd fished out of the pool & laid on the deck.
I told Gram, "I have no idea how we managed to get all these creatures in our pool! I mean, tadpoles are one thing, but I don't know of any local octopus population."
Gram replied, "Well that's just what we get for filling the pool with city water."
Tomorrow, I will be mucking stalls, and *possibly* riding a little. Look for another post from me next Saturday if I don't manage to sooner. Have a happy 4th! Look out for the jellyfish if you go swimming.
SO, I owe everyone a catch-up for the week past at the Stable.
Monday - A new week of Horse Lover's Camp, which equals new kids and rampant craziness.
Tuesday - I was put in charge of feeding lunch to the horses, which entails climbing up the thin worn ladder steps (I'm not a ladder-person) into the hayloft. On Wednesday, I learned the left side is used to being fed first. One of the volunteers told me when I was half finished with the right side, but I'd already sort of figured it out by the left side horses neighing, stomping, and generally having a conniption while I fed the right side. By Thursday I'd remembered to bring scissors with me to cut open new bales of hay so I didn't have to run back down to the office.
After everyone has a flake of hay, I get to lug out the hose & water. Not bad until I'm done and have to roll the hose back up and get covered in mud (I try not to dwell too much on the fact that it isn't just mud).
Wednesday - I'm in the lounge and Rikki brings in half the day camp kids to wash their hands before going up to the outdoor arena. I see Burke, one of our horses, walking by outside. I think, "Someone has to be leading him - they're probably just standing on the other side where I can't see them."
One of the day camp kids, looking out the windows, plaintively exclaims, "Um, the horses are running away."
Behind Burke follows the two other horses who had been in the field with him. Rikki turns to me, jaw hanging open, and asks with a note of panic, "How'd they get out?"
"If I knew that, they wouldn't be out!"
Rikki & I head onto the porch, kids in tow until Rikki shoos them back into the lounge with a warning, "Okay, this is an EMERGENCY! Stay in here no matter what, and behave while we round up the horses."
The stables are just off of Rt 88, which is a main road and stays somewhat busy. There's a sign warning of horse & rider crossing, but most people don't notice, or don't heed it. So, Rikki & I are faced with 3 unbridled horses trotting through the parking lot towards 88, and only the two of us to stop them. If they make it across the road, they pretty much have free reign of the park. We'd need golf carts and lassos to hunt them. Okay, probably just other horses and some carrots, but I like the image of lassoing a horse from a golf cart.
Luckily, something spooked the horses & they went galloping away from the road, past us, and into the stable. Rikki ran after them through the breezeway to shut the doors behind them. I ran through the lobby (and massing children watching with glee) to cut them off before they ran through the wash room door and up the hill into the woods. (There are down sides to keeping horses in a 1700acre park)
On another stroke of luck, 2 horses ran into Troubles stall (hoping there was good food in there) and the third headed for the next stall down (Doc's). As Rikki came in through the breezeway, one of the horses ran from Trouble's stall into Doc's & I slid the door shut on both of them. Rikki headed off the third horse & tracked down bridles so we could lead them back to the meadow.
I got to be the one to stand calf deep in horse shit with a horse at each hand while Rikki went to get the final escapee. Damn brats kept running back up to the gate.
So, the question is, how did three horses get out at once? Certainly all three of them didn't jump the fence at once. And no one would have been forgetful enough to leave the gate open. That leaves us with one option, the bastards opened the latch themselves!
As you can likely imagine, this left us jumpy all day. At one point while sweeping the lobby, I looked up & saw Guiness's ass headed out through the washroom. I dropped the broom with terror-filled thoughts circling around, "Oh, no. Not again!" Turns out Guiness's own was taking him up to the pasture on the hill, wish she'd have told me! Every time I heard foot steps, I looked for the horse in the parking lot, which always turned out to just be a customer on the store porch.
Rikki and I knew we were just edgy, and as soon as the day ended, we'd be fine. Sadly, however, our fears did not go unconfirmed. Less than an hour after the three horses escaped the meadow, Jen called from the top of the hill on her cell phone saying one of the campers had let a horse get loose.
Rikki went running up the hill to help round up Flash. Elizabeth headed down the hill to lock him in if he ran into the stables. Flash headed for the tree line.
Flash is our cute new pony we got last weekend. Cute, but a pain in the ass. He ended up getting spooked by something in the woods (probably a squirrel) and veered down the path to the stables, right for poor little Elizabeth (a 13year old volunteer at the stables). Liz dove for cover and avoided getting trampled, even managed to recover in time to lock Flash in his stall when he came running through the stable.
By lunch, everyone was ready to call off day camp.
Thursday - Blessedly uneventful!!!!
Friday - The Budweiser Clydesdales are coming to visit in 2 weeks. (6 clydesdales, and the donkey) In order to accommodate them, we need to move some of our horses to the back stables. Jeanette told me to take the hose out to the back stables and fill the water buckets after I finished watering all the horses in the stables.
She said something about "unattach that and connect it to the green hose." I took that to mean unattach the hose. I rolled our 100ft hose over my shoulder to lug it out to the back stables, thoroughly soaking my right side. I find the green hose, and realize it's not attached to anything. I walk around the back stables & can't find any spigot. This is when I realize Jeanette meant to detach the nozzle attachment and connect the white hose to the green hose.
Much lugging and rolling later, every bucket in the vicinity was full, I was wet with both sweat and hose water, and I swear the damn horses were laughing at me!
Saturday - My day off! I didn't get out of bed until nearly noon. I've been behind on my reading and was looking forward to catching up today. The only item of interest today is the dream I had last night.
We've been having trouble getting the pool in a condition that is swimmable. Mostly because we know nothing about pools, and all the companies that could come help us are booked until about now. A man is coming Monday to hopefully open our pool, but that's not soon enough to keep my subconscious from acting up.
The frogs are back in the pool. I'm hoping for more spermzillas before the man comes to fill the pool with chemicals. In my dream, I was netting out the pool and going through the muck and leaves I was sifting out looking for tadpoles. I managed to catch two or three tadpoles. Then an octopus. Some squid. In no time there were seven-foot-long black catfish swimming around in our pond, fighting the 8ft squid ala-2000 Leagues Under the Sea.
When I'd finished netting out the pool and headed in for dinner, Gram was serving calamari. I asked her when she got calamari & she said, "Well I didn't want to waste all the squid and octopus you've been fishing out of the pool." I didn't want to hurt her feelings, because I love calamari at Red Lobster, but Red Lobster doesn't stock their kitchen from our back yard.
Soon various eels and jellyfish had joined the fracus. My two year old brother came to visit and was almost eaten by an 8ft squid I'd fished out of the pool & laid on the deck.
I told Gram, "I have no idea how we managed to get all these creatures in our pool! I mean, tadpoles are one thing, but I don't know of any local octopus population."
Gram replied, "Well that's just what we get for filling the pool with city water."
Tomorrow, I will be mucking stalls, and *possibly* riding a little. Look for another post from me next Saturday if I don't manage to sooner. Have a happy 4th! Look out for the jellyfish if you go swimming.
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