Year 20

Its been forever since I've gotten on Blogger and Blogged.  I tried to start some different blogs to see if I could actually blog about something else, but it never worked.  I eventually fell short, and stopped even responding or checking blogger for updates.

This would have been a great way to vent some frustration throughout the year, because this year was hard.  In Febuary, my beloved Uncle Kenny passed away.  It devastated me.  Kenny was such an old soul, a wonderful man that hadn't quite played his cards right.  He started out as a punk kid turned Carpenter, and worked on many great homes throughout his life, including my Dad's.  I look over the house my Dad now lives in and see his spirit still thriving in the wood, breathing like he once did in the moments that he sweat, cried, and broke down over the extreme physical labor involved in rebuilding a house. His demons got the best of him, years and years of alcoholism and drugs had brought him to his resting place, decades before his time was due. 

I moved out on my own from my Dad's house a few months later, in with my sister.  Being out on my own isn't the easiest task in the world, and its difficult living a few dollars above minimum wage and needing the commission to carry you though the week.  A month or so after I left my Dad's, my best friend Kendy introduced me to a guy named... lets call him Joseph.  Joseph was young, three years my junior, but was adorable in my eyes.  He said all the right words, did all the right things, and he made me weak in the knees.  After being devastated by the death of Mr. III's  and I's engagement, I finally felt my heart was ready to beat again.  But due to the fact that he was heading into the military, and fast, after his high school graduation, he left me because it was too much to bear.  Broken hearted, I had to deal with my Grandmother's death a few days after. 

I haven't been able to fully accept that my Grandmother has left this earth.  I haven't quite yet walked into the little house behind my Dad's to feel the emptiness in it.  My Grandmother was a beautiful, smart woman that did her best, but just like her son, had fallen short.  She had to bury three of her children, another Uncle I never met named Allan, and my Aunt Cindy along with the obvious. But she had her own demons that left her the way she did.  After years and years and years of smoking, she developed COPD (basically chronic bronchitis) which left her unable to breathe in a lot of ways.  It took everything for her to walk 10 feet without stopping to catch her breath.  I thought I was able to accept her death because I thought "She now can breathe!" but really I had to snuff the emotions I felt deep down so that I could fix my self esteem and mental issues due to the breakup with Joseph. 

I turned to friends.  My sister wanted to turn to me.  I wasn't there for her, and because of my lack of care, a rivet in our relationship happened as loud as the crack of a whip in dead night air.  I walked into a war zone whenever I went home.  I was terrified of her being awake, terrified of her hurtful words that left me sobbing myself to sleep.  So, I stopped going home. 

A few months later, in a ditch effort to get me out into the dating world again, my friend Kelsey got me on Plenty of Fish.  I went on numerous dates before I met Beefcake.

Beefcake....

240 plus pounds of pure muscle, he stands at 6 foot tall, with blonde hair and green eyes.  He is originally from Germany, but the only accent that flavors his lips is that of his homestate of Mississippi.  I first met him at the dog park with Lady.  I was nervous, afraid he would look at me and immediately tear my self esteem down by saying I was chubby or something (I am a thicker girl).  But what I didn't know is that he had an attraction for dark haired, glasses wearing, fair skinned girls with tattoos.  I am all of these things. 

At first, I didn't think anything of it.  I met about 5 to 7 guys (I really can't remember) on this website, and numerous more I talked to for lengths of time, before I met him.  But then we saw each other again, and again, and again... and finally one day, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and announced "I'm going to kiss you".  He answered "Mhmm..." and it felt like fireworks bursting in my chest as I leaned in and kissed his lips. 

At that moment, my head was over Joseph, and my heart was ready to take the next step away from the stupid boys I've dated, and into the arms of a real, true man. 

I'll admit, at first I was attracted to his massive muscles, but there was something better than his bulging biceps or his perfect pectorals.  He had a huge heart, one I hadn't seen in many men, and rivaled only by me, or so Kendy says.  He dropped his fear of being hurt again, and began the road to letting me in.  We spent a few weeks back and fourth, battling the feelings we felt with the knowledge of past relationships grown sour, and finally fell in love.

This is love?

I want his babies.  Yes, someone who doesn't really want kids wants babies.  I want to make him a happy man.  I want to grow old with him.  I'm crazy.

Tell me I'm crazy.

I'm so crazy.

Haha.

Anyway, He's pretty spectacular.  I won't lie.  And I am super excited to see where things go.  We both say we couldn't take another heart break.  He won't cheat, he won't lie. I won't cheat, I won't lie.  Looks like this might actually work. 

I hope it does.

I'm the worst friend ever

I really am.  My word means nothing.  I can't keep a friend to save my life.

It has to be something wrong with me.  It can't be consistent from the time I was young to now. 

Eff it, i'm going to join the army.

Series of Questions for Horse People. Number one.

I'm still planning on posting to this one about relationship stuff, but I'm also going to blog on this one.  I wanna get fit.  I wanted to type that one about horse and exercise/riding stuff here.  This is more of a personal blog, and that will be my career blog.

Mr III and I broke up.  I'm keeping his info up, but changing it and removing his picture.  I'll also be removing my friend's picture.

Some crazy stuff has happened in the last two weeks.  I left Mr. III for a few reasons, moved back home, and am progressing forward in my professional career.  I'm trying to get to Meredith Manor by June.  I'm sending off my enrollment papers tomorrow and getting ready to spend the money as a down payment. 

It'll be awesome. I'll move forward as a horse person.  But I've had a bump in the road, and I am looking for guidance.

And, if you could, please let your horsey friends know about my question, so they can answer it for themselves.

There's a lot of different questions to give, and some are kind of long, so forgive me if it may be ridiculous.

Okay, so here we go. 

I had a great horsewoman as a trainer for the past two years.  But, I've moved about 2 hours away from her location, which makes it hard for me to take the time out to go see her.  I wanted to try and make it so I could do lessons, but I ended up not having a single day off in the week, so I ended up warning her I couldn't do it, or at least, I thought I had. 

She says I hadn't, which truthfully, at this point, I'll take her word for it. 

I asked her if I could get a lesson from her this weekend  not realizing she had a clinic going on, so she ended up sending me some messages with a very strict and angry tone to them.  I did tell the Lady I'm helping out closer to my location that my previous instructor is someone else I've worked for, but she called at a bad time for my previous instructor, and my previous instructor was upset about it.

I asked if there was anything I could do to make it up to you, but her answer made me feel like I had burned a bridge.  I want to be serious about riding, and I want her to respect me as a rider.  I was thinking of finishing a quilt that I was going to make for her and sending it for Christmas, a long with a note of apology.

 Is this a good idea?  Can I get her to forgive me?  I really appreciate her for all she has ever done for me.  She's been so good to me in the past, I just want to be a friend to come in for a lesson every once in a while as a refresher, and I want to help her business.  What can I do?

I can't believe it

It has been a while since I've last blogged, and Its mainly due to the fact that I just haven't had the time, or Mr. III has taken up a lot of my time.  But this blog isn't about that.  This is about a kid that was in my Spanish class my senior year in high school.

He passed away in august, and I just found out today.  He was speeding down a road, lost control, and hit a tree.  He wasn't wearing a seat belt.

What kind of makes me angry, is that he saw me when I got in my horrific accident.  I told as many people up and down that I wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for my seat belt.  But I still feel for his family and friends.

It brings me down to earth on my car accident.  It really does.  How fragile humans are, and how easily it is to kill us.  How close I was to death on that day.  I was a lucky one.

Rest in Peace, Travis.  I didn't know you very well.  I talked to you a few times in class, maybe, but many people appreciated you for your talents and your wit.  I hope you'll keep them laughing up in heaven.

Hard times

I hate not being able to blog.  But, Mr. III reads everything that I write, so this is no longer an outlet for my feelings anymore.  I have to consider that he'll read it, and be irritated about the fact that I can't tell him what's on my mind.

I DO tell him.  I tell him until I'm blue in the face.  I explain as much as I possibly can to him, but still it's like he has to read it on my blog for it to sink in.  Which can be a good thing, but for the most part, I've devised this blog to be something private, that I include specific friends (like my follower, Mary) and outsiders that I don't know, for my own selfish reasons.  I write about things I'm bothered about, and it IS an outlet for me.  Its like a journal that I don't mind people reading. 

I look for advice mostly, outside of the box, when i'm writing in my blogs.  Or, to see if I have some people who have common ground. 

It's been two years since I got my job where I kept Jimi.  Around this time, my ranch boss hired me on as a 5 days a week stall cleaner and all around barn-girl.  I miss that job.  I'd take it back in a heartbeat, if money wasn't an object, or if I had time.  I miss horses.  I miss the ranch.  I need to find a new place to ride.  But I need not only a trainer, but a therapist.  A hippotherapist, who can work my through my fear of large horses, and help me excel in my riding.  I miss Jimi.  August will be two years since I took him home. 

I want to go see a psychic.  I want to ask them two questions: 1. Will I ever see Jimi again, and if so, 2. how will I know it's him. I think he's somewhere out in the world as a cute little yearling, somewhere out there waiting for me to find him and take him home again once more.  He's waiting for me to be stable enough to afford to give him the life I wasn't able to give him in his previous life.

As well, we have a ghost in our house.  More about it later.

The Art of Racing in the Rain

I started this book by Garth Stein around 4 o'clock.  It is now 8 or so, and I have to say, it was the most refreshing read that I've had.  Well, I haven't read a book in a while to my dismay, but this one was a great book to break the bad habit of TV.  I really needed a good cry, and this book was full of them.  I recommend this book to any Dog Lover out there. 

The reason I liked it so much, was it was put in the perspective of an Airedale/Lab mix that was picked up by a guy who was looking for a companion dog.  It goes through the life of this amazing dog and his master, and the terrible things his master is submitted to one after the other.  A weaker man would have killed himself, is all I have to say.  What a rewarding book, and an amazing finish.  Take a few hours out of your busy schedule, and check this book out.  I strongly recommend it.

It was actually recommended to me by my Father and Step-mother, and they gave up their copy to me so I could read it.  I'm home alone after working a morning shift, and Mr. III is working the evening shift and won't be off for another 10 minutes.  Then, he has a 30 minute drive home, at best I believe.

Things have gotten better, way better, and I wanted to apologize to my readers for my sudden outburst resulting in possible break-up-ness.  Truthfully, I was at my wits end with him and didn't know any other way of going about it.  Or, at least that's what I'm thinking went wrong.  I still don't know, and we're still trying to work through it. 

My head hurts from crying.

I wish you'd unclench your fists... and unpack your suitcase

This has been a hard past couple of days.  But, after an explosion of emotions (and no yelling...)  I think Mr. III and I have finally come through, together.