Saturday, April 23, 2011

Yep, I'm Gonna Talk About Plaid...

I am known in certain circles for my plaid jacket. I've been spending time in more agricultural circles lately and as a result, I'm just wearing a jacket instead of being that girl in the plaid jacket.

It is so, so freeing.

My original plaid jacket (And hot damn, I wish I had a picture) was a gift from the Berry Queen. She was about eight months pregnant with her fifth Berry Baby and angry about her size. She projected these feelings of size onto my birthday gift and as a result, she gifted me with a men's size XL plaid jacket. I loved that jacket, and as time went on, Mal grew to love it as well.

About three weeks ago, I decided to play the role of the good Samaritan. I was driving down the road and there was a woman standing beside a dog that had clearly been hit. I felt bad, swore up and down, and stopped my car.

The woman was also a good Samaritan because she hadn't even hit the dog. The person who hit the dog had driven away. The dog was still alive and was quite docile and quiet and I couldn't see anything visibly wrong with it. The woman went to question the two houses nearest us to no avail.

I decided to make a quick call to the vet's office (Three years of owning an accident prone horse taught me to keep the vet's number always at hand) and asked if we could bring the dog in.

I was standing on the side of the highway with an older woman who had her hair and makeup done and who was wearing heels and a nice outfit. I had no clue as to how to get the dog into her car.

I noticed that the dog was not bleeding or really even dirty at all, so I thought, I know! And I grabbed my plaid jacket, rolled the injured dog onto the jacket so that I could use it as a sling/stretcher. The dog was placed in the back of the car and driven to the vet's office.

Unfortunately, the injuries to the dog must not have really set in until he was transported. Upon getting to the vet's office, myself, my clothing, and my jacket were thoroughly coated with blood.

I fear the worst for the dog as he was in much worse shape when he got to the vet's than when I first saw him on the side of the road. The lady from the vet's office asked me if I wanted my jacket back and said that if I did, i would have to wait as they were working on the dog.

I left without my jacket and spent the rest of the day feeling terrible because someone's dog was hit on the road. I can't imagine how I would feel if my Dixie was hit in such a fashion.

Now my search for the next plaid jacket begins. It has to be a men's XL, it has to be the perfect flannel, it has to have the right color, and it has to be able to endure years of bonfires and other types of redneck debauchery.

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Friday, April 15, 2011

Oh, Right... My Dating Hiatus...

Well, my dating hiatus began on December 21st. I am now roaring into month four with only a little bump in the road.

It was a small one.

And I was more enamored with that bump's tractors and cows than I was enamored with him, but hey, sometimes green tractors and big cows can get the best of a girl.

I simply can't be blamed for the affinity I have for tractors and riding on them in the moonlight with the person who owns them. You would have climbed right up as well. You know you would. Because the tractor was green and the cows needed to be fed and what girl can resist the words "Well, looks like we need to take a little tractor ride."

Luckily, this individual and I never went on a "date". So I'm still good with my dating hiatus. Had anything involved dinner and movies and hand holding and that sort of thing, I would be sunk.

All I did was milk some cows in the company of an individual who happened to own cows.

No dating.

Which is good, because if I had gone on any dates in the past four months, my beloved Joomy would be disappointed in me.

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Thursday, April 14, 2011

Should I Post?

What should I write about? My mother's puppy named Lucy, who torments me but who I am trying every day to love? About my new car that is not an SUV but that does have very sexy tires? Should I write about the fiasco that was procuring them? The boy I had to flirt with shamelessly to get those tires?

Should I write about how my mother broke her toe underneath a horse? Should I write about the vacation I took from riding when my hopes and dreams began to fall apart at the end of February? Should I write about how, when my vacation from riding horses turned into a hiatus, I decided not to return to riding?

Should I write about how I feel like I'm missing a leg without riding but at the same time I'm so very, very happy about my decision? Should I write about how, every time someone asks me if I've quit, I feel like screaming "Yes, I've quit, because my fucking horse is dead!" Maybe that would be overkill, but maybe it would get people to stop asking.

Maybe instead I should write about the little boy I used to work with, and how I fought and fought to be allowed to still visit him every week. Maybe I should write about how every now and then, when I'm on one of those visits I fought to get, he looks into my eyes and the entire world is cured of its ills because he smiles at me. That's all it takes.

I could write about work but it would bore you to tears, so I won't even go there.

Should I write about my beautiful guitar that hung on my wall for about four years never being touched? About how I quit touching that guitar due to a burst of stage fright I had one night, which was when I quit playing and singing?



Maybe I should talk about getting back on stage again. How my anxiety is more related to fixing my hair before a performance than the performance itself.



I could equally write about how I've begun to sing and write music again. I've been playing my guitar until the unfortunate souls I live with have begged me to please, please shut up so they could have a moment's peace. I could write about the vocal lessons I've signed up for and the record label my vocal coach has recommended me to. I could write about the band I auditioned to sing with last week and how they emailed me again for a call-back. (Or is it a callback?)

I honestly think about writing on this blog every single day. I've no idea how to start or where to start.

I figure that a good place to start would be a picture of me doing what has currently captured my soul.

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