A Thousand Words Thursday

"All horses deserve, at least once in their lives, to be loved by a little girl."

In this picture, I'm sitting on the ground waiting for our next class to be called. Magic was standing there, originally sleeping, as I stroked his muzzle. My cell phone rang, and he perked up. So he started nibbling on my helmet because he wanted me to pay attention to him.

Note: It is EXTREMELY  dangerous to sit on the ground in front of a horse. They are unpredictable. I, however, trust Magic completely. I've had him since he was 1 (he's now 4); I can read his moods better than I can read my own. I was perfectly safe.

Leader or enemy

At 7:20 this morning, the loudspeaker crackled. I was in my classroom sucking down a large iced coffee in order to combat the exhaustion of my 4-day weekend.  The principal's voice whined over the intercom.

"There is a mandatory meeting for all staff in the library, beginning immediately." His voice was grave, and I felt the flutters of panic. This Labor Day weekend had been tragic in our area-- several young people had gotten into horrific accidents. A friend's younger brother was crushed by a train when his car stalled on the tracks. I hoped that none our staff or students had been injured.

The assembled throng of staff wore the same expressions of sleepy dread, exchanging looks, mentally taking attendance of faculty and staff. Our principal rushed to the podium, cleared his throat, and began to speak.

"As many of you know, President Obama will be speaking to the nation's students this afternoon. Under no circumstances are you allowed to show this speech to students. As a school, we are comitted to remaining poiltically neutral. That is all." He walked away, leaving all of us to stare around the room in shock.

It has been on my mind all day. As my fellow teachers know, teaching is more than just the curriculum. Teaching is about "teachable moments," those unplanned events that open a possibility for meaniful discussion and applied curriculum: the hatching of a chrysalis in a classroom window, a story in the room that fits into your curriculum. Today's speech by Obama was a teachable moment. Instead of teaching our students about respect, we instead reinforced the message that authority figures should not be respected. In a time when parents are being usurped by children and teachers are being considered no more than glorified babysitters, to show students that the highest elected official in our country does not deserve respect is more damaging than we know.

Our students, despite their age, do know what is going on. They have an access to current events that we cannot fathom. They know about the controversy of Obama's speech, from Tweets, news updates, or even dinner time conversation. What message are we sending our students?

My administration, like many others around the country, refused to show the speech in order to appear neutral. What they did, however, was make a different political statement.

I admit, that I am a Democrat and did vote for Obama in the election. I know, however, that my personal political feelings would not change my feelings about this. I did not appreciate President G.W. Bush's decisions. However, he was my President, and elected by the majority of this country. Therefore, I would listen to what he had to say.

I talked about narcissism several posts ago in relationships. This narcissism extends now into the political arena. Many people now believe that "because I didn't vote for him, I shouldn't have to listen to or support him". This attitude is so different from that of our forefathers, parents, and grandparents. I'm concerned about what this means for the future of our country; this saying keeps repeating in my mind: united we stand, divided we fall....

Rock Bottom

You know hit rock bottom when you scroll through your phone and there is not one single person you could call to hang out with at the social event of the season. I walked around the fair with some of the younger girls who ride at the barn.

You know you hit rock bottom when there is no one there to wipe your boots, hold your horse, or cheer you on the rail on one of the best days of your life. My trainer and barn friends don't count.

You know you hit rock bottom when you walk around the fair, and have to control yourself from crying every time you pass a place that you "made a memory" with your ex-- the grass in front of the grandstand where you danced to "your song" while Lonestar played it for you live, the midway where we went on the Tilt-a-whirl. The First Aid booth that your ex worked at during the fair. The empty place at the rail where he would have been smiling, making you relax as you came around the ring.

You know you hit rock bottom when what should have been the best day of the year, the day you showed and was in the ribbons with your horse, you cry all the way home because you miss him so much.

You know you hit rock bottom when you have no desire to meet or date anyone else because there is this huge cavernous hole where your heart is. 

You know you hit rock bottom when your ex "fuck buddy," who you had the most amazing sex with, propositions you and you decline because you just don't feel like dealing with another guy's bullshit. And you still feel like you are "with" someone, and therefore not free to date.

In a mopey mood. Will update about the fair tomorrow.

It's a small world after all

There's a theory out there that if a person is one step away from each person they know, and two steps away from each person who is known by the people they know, then everyone is, at most, 6 steps away from anyone on earth. Also, known as six degrees of Kevin Bacon.

I met Trevor at a party. He was there with his cousin Jeff, his cousin's girlfriend, and this girl--let's call her Amy. I thought Trevor and Amy were together.. turns out they had just met that night. Trevor "took one for the team" and called me the next day. We were together from that day on.

Amy, as you can understand, was not too happy about this. Trevor and I would run into her at different places around town. It's a small town, there's not alot of places people our age hang. At one point, she accused me of "stalking" her (she was working at Blockbuster's).

Fast forward three years.  I start coached middle school softball this past spring and one of the parents helped me coach. I had her daughter, Lela, in two of my classes. Lela's mom friended me on facebook today. When I was looking through her profile, I noticed something. She has an older daughter: Amy.

Awk-ward.

Drive Myself Crazy

So I gained 0.8 this week. Why? Not sure... I had a pretty good week OP, with the exception of Sunday. I ended the week with Flex Points left.  I am however, riding alot more than normal and my legs hurt-- I usually gain a bit the first week I start to work out. At the hospital Tuesday,  they gave me three tabs of Prednisone, which may have something to do with it.

Plan for the fair: I bought FiberOne bars, WW muffins, water, and eggs to hardboil for breakfast. I am planning on picking up some fruit, low-cal bread, and cold cuts tomorrow after I drop off the cats at my parents. It's a trial run for when I move back in; Dad is not exactly happy about having three cats in his house in addition to the dog.

So we will see..

I'm going to be obviously away from my computer this weekend. I hope everyone has a great Labor Day rest! I won't be resting, but I'll be having a great time!

...She got a divorce and a black horse...

This weekend is going to be both joyful and heartbreaking. Each year, in the next town over, there is a large county fair. It is THE social event of the season. As a child, the Fair was the weekend before school began, and you would beg your parents to show off your newest and coolest school clothes. As a teen, the Fair was the time when couples would stroll together, announcing their relationships to the world. As an adult, the Fair was my time to go with Trevor. We would walk around the fair, sampling the foods, playing the games, riding the rides, and looking at all the home improvement vendors and dreaming. It will be the first time since I was 19 that I will be walking around the fair without him.

For me, it's a huge deal. The Fair was one of the happiest times we had together, and I'm not sure how to deal with it. To add insult to injury, Jay will be there-- the Boy Scout troop he is still involved in works as security throughout the day. I'm sure DogFace, knowing I will be there, won't be too far behind. I've already given explicit instructions that she not be allowed NEAR my horse.

For me, the Fair also is the biggest horse show of the season. It is a four day event, and EVERYONE is there. This is the first year that I will be showing my own horse under saddle. After a summer of hard work, it will be a triumph for me to ride him past the judges' booth in front of all the people who told me it was crazy that an intermediate rider own a young horse of his caliber.

Trevor and I raised Magic together. Though my name is only on his papers, Magic is as much Trevor's as mine. I know that no matter how he feels about me, he would be amazingly proud that Magic is here doing what we both dreamed about doing.

I'm toying with the idea of emailing Trevor with an invitation to come down and watch the show, no pressure. However, he is still with his girlfriend, and I'm sure the invitiation won't be welcome.

Thoughts?

Who is your daddy, and what does he do?

Pull up a chair for another entertaining episode of American Stupidity.

When we last left our heroine, while applying her makeup in the rearview mirror, she discovered that her forehead suddenly had more acne than that of a pubescent male. Her co-workers, however, informed our fearless Aurora that she had a case of the dreaded poision ivy.

This evening, I was sitting down to eat dinner (WW past with low-cal meatballs and sauce), when I noticed that my tongue and the roof of my mouth was itching. My chest also had begun to feel tight. Since I had never had Poison Ivy before, and  I am susceptible to asthma episodes, my mother suggested that I go to the hospital to get checked out, in case I had inhaled the poison ivy oil somehow.

Now, I understand that triage nurses deal with hundreds of patients a day. But, c'mon, Poision Ivy is pretty distinctive looking. That didn't matter to her. In the span of five minutes, Miss Triage nurse diagnosed me with chicken pox and heartburn.

In addition, she seemed convinced that I was pregnant. She must have asked me 50 times if I was. Finally, I gave up, and told her a lie, and that I was carrying the son of Christ. She wasn't too pleased with my "mockery of the miracle of Immaculate Conception," but she didn't ask me again if I was pregnant.

I do have poison Ivy in my mouth so I'm a wonderful bout of prednisone. I felt so puny though. In the section next to me was a 9-year old boy who had fallen thorugh a glass table. He was screeching bloody murder as the doctor cleaned and sutured it. After, however, he started watching Animal Planet, and finishing his Happy Meal.  The resilency of children, physically and mentally, never ceases to arrange me.