Pants! NOW!

*Quick, tell me what movie that's from!*

I watched the SAG awards last night.  It's so weird!  SAG stands for Screen Actor's Guild, but it's really a great excuse for me to make more immature boob jokes.  What?  We all like boobs, don't we?  Of course, I'll be composing a report on the awards show, because that's what I do: watch the awards, so you don't have to.  You're Welcome!!

Meanwhile, I am STILL fighting with laundry.  What the crap???  Are we really that dirty?  Depending on which way you want to see it... We're either the dirtiest people or the cleanest.  Glass half empty, glass half full.

I am behind on replying to emails.  I'm shamefully behind on phone calls, and pray my friends won't give up on me. My horses look bored.  Damn you Laundry, and your nasty sidekick, Dishes!


So.
The Pants.

My sister Sweetie gave me a gift card for Christmas.  Today my daughter and I ventured into the store with the intention of getting me a new pair of pants.  I have two pairs of jeans that fit: one for riding, one for being seen in public.  There was no way I'd go into that store without my teenager.  No way.  I hate shopping for Pants.

Pants are a problem.  I'm not proportionate.  All these stores claim to have innovative pants features like "No-Gap waistband"  and "Curvy fit"  but apparently I am some weird shape that manufactured pants do not understand.  This is why me and Pants have a problematic history.  We just don't always get along.




It's really hard to buy clothes when you're shaped like me.

Right???

Anyways, I was ready to bolt after trying on one pair (Yeah, Curvy Fit my ass!)   and not trying on a second pair when I saw the price tag.  Hold me down, I want the heck outta there.  I was lamenting my waist-to-butt ratio when darling Annyong, the girl who looooves to shop, brought out one last pair... size 6, 30 length...and did they fit?  Hmmm.  Not awful.  A belt will be necessary but that's normal.  Maybe a little on the snug side but these new meds seem to be taking some weight off me, so...

I GOT THEM.

They're sort of a muted grey plaid which sounds awful but they're--- wait for it--- nice.  Which will make Sweetie proud.  She's so well dressed and I suspect my wardrobe  of shlumpy old track pants and band T-shirts and hoodies might embarrass her just a little bit. Maybe not embarrass.  Maybe just inspires her to help!  

I mean, a girl can't wear evening gowns every day.

Not practical for cleaning out the barn.

The Cat is CRAZY

Lucy The Feral House-cat is not quite right in the head.

She lived in this house for like, a year before she discovered that the water jug has BUBBLES IN IT!

Since then, her life has been consumed by those evil bubbles.  She's gonna get them some day, even if it means she has to get right in there between the water cooler and the wall.  Maybe she'll climb into the jug through the taps.

Sure she looks all cute.  And furry and soft and cute. 

So CHARMING!  So ADORABLE!

Awwwwww!

But then...

You notice the One Eyed TWITCH.

Do NOT touch this cat when her eye is twitching.  

(Unless you didn't need that hand.)  

Within seconds of shredding you, she's suddenly all, "I'm so cute.  Oh look, a bug."

Did I mention that this cat caught a BAT? You know, flying mammal?  Flies all zigzaggy not straight like a bird?  Yeah.  One of those.  She caught it.

She can ignore you, while drawing you in... it's a real skill.  It's like flirting by excluding.

"Oh, I'm not noticing you.  But you notice me!"

"I'll just be over here sleeping adorably."

But.  With no warning, she'll be gone.  All that's left will be the frying smell of shorted out wiring and a few fluffs of tabby fur.

What is going on in that little head?

Maybe I don't want to know.

She's got me wrapped around her little needle-sharp claws.  Darnit.

TRUCKSICLE. Now with 100% More Heat!

Maybe I can survive winter now...

Winter and I might have to break up.

It's just too cold for me.

I claim the right to complain.

My nose is frozen.  Seriously - the snot is freezing inside my nose.

The horses actually want to come into the barn in the evening - and STAY there.  No more of the usual chewing down the grain and then gazing out the barn door, waiting to get out.  They sigh with contentment and spread the hay all over the clean shavings in the stall.

Cars don't want to start.  When they do start, the gear shift coldly and reluctantly moves into place.

My truck lost the ability to produce heat inside the cab a couple weeks ago.  Only today I have had the ability to pay to have it fixed.

The water tap in the barn froze.  I cannot even tell you how much I HATE that.

The Pug doesn't even want to go out.

The inside of the screen door is frozen.

I can't take this anymore, Winter.  I could stand it when it was just cold, but this is too much.  Once the temperature falls into the minus-double-digits I start feeling abused now and I won't stand for this abuse. I've often doubted our compatibility but I have just had enough of the cruelty.

Thaw out my water tap before you leave.

Don't let the gate hit you in the ass on your way out.

(And let the Winnipeg people go too, you polygamist torturer! Seriously, they are so much nicer and easy-going than us Ontarians.  Minus 50????  You are cruel - no, sadistic!  Stop this now!)

I am gross because of the title I was thinking of writing.

My daughter wrote that title for me.

She won't allow me to put up my original title.

She has better taste than me.

And she's smarter.

She uses words like HYPOTHETICAL and SEGUE ( not "segway") in everyday conversation.

No Johnny Photos today, just because I totally Depped out this week and he deserves a break.  Man, I love when The Famous dress up and try to act civilized.

In other news: did you know that horses survived thousands of years by themselves, with no barns, no blankets to wear, no nice green hay to chew on all winter, no clean water in buckets?  Also: snow sits on top of the fuzzy puffed up winter hair and actually insulates their bodies.  Humans see snow on horses and feel cold.

My toes are cold.

This house is old.

You have been told.

(wooooah you jus' got tooooooow'd  that's how it would be said if you were a gangsta.  Or something. From Annyong.)


My kid is the least gangsta person I know.  And that's the way I like it!

Dude.  I'm reading LIFE by Keith Richards.  That guy should be dead! He's got more lives than a cat!

My cat is insane.  No really.  She's nuts.  She turns her head sideways and twitches.  You can smell the faulty wiring smoldering between her ears. Craaaaazeeeee.  Spooks at her own shadow.  Buzzzzzz.  She can be all sweet and cute, but then it's like a breaker gets flipped and she spazzes out... then ends up on the other side of the room with huge pupils, looking like she can't figure out how she got there.  Yep, we named her Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.  LSD.  Hmmm.




It's Friday, it's cold outside, and my brain is scrambled.  HAVE A GOOD WEEKEND!

When Laundry Procreates: A Horror Story

I accidentally left some fertile dirty clothing languish in the hamper.

Now I've got an overflowing, overwhelming mountain in the corner of the bedroom.

It's just so hard to tell the males from the females.

(Golden Globes coverage is done- over at my other blog!)

Golden Globe and Blue Monday

 Yep, I pigged out on awards last night.  Tomorrow I will recap it for you, as only I do.

Today, I'll be at "work" with Jethro, tidying up the studio and, well, his desk.  Wish me luck.

Apparently today is...(dramatic pause)...Blue Monday.  Wasn't that a song by some new wave band in the 80s?  Help me out here?

Somebody determined that today, January 17, is The Most Depressing Day Of They Year.

This kind of bums me out.  Haha.  See what I did there?  Bummed out about a depressing day?  I don't know about this.  I might have to call BS on it.  It's just a day.  If you're going to be depressed, you're not going to pick a day.  I can tell you one thing: right about now I'm totally over Christmas like it never happened, and I've got two more months of winter, then I've got April, which for some reason has been my worst month for the last few years.  I've got snow and cold followed by mud and misery.  So today?  Pffft.  Whatevs man.

If January 17 makes you want to hang around in your room and cry, remember this: today can't last forever.

Besides if you really want something to get all bent over...

NOBODY WORE A SPARKLY GOLD DRESS WITH STOOPID CLEAVAGE LAST NIGHT.

No immature "golden globes" jokes! Darnit.

Instead, just Ricky Gervais making a lot of people uncomfortable and Johnny looking fidgety (but gorgeous) and Angelina looking distracted.  Me, on the couch, taking notes.  I wish I was kidding.

fidget squirm adjust squirm fidget.  Like a kid in Gade 4 watching the clock and waiting for the bell to ring.  Poor guy.

Awards Show Season Whhooooooo! (Geekin' out on Famous People)

I refuse to be ashamed or embarrassed by my fascination with The Famous.  They're just doing they're job, which is to entertain.  I am being entertained by them.  Therefore, all involved are satisfied.

I LOVE SHOWBIZ!

I kind of HATE IT too.  I'm complicated that way.

I finally finished my 2010 Awards.  I know, 2010 was like, SO two weeks ago.  It was SO last year.  Snort hahaha!  Anyways.  I put a lot of work into it.  Could you just slip over to my other blog and have a read?  I tried to make it funny and there are pictures too.  See, I'm reduced to pleading here.  Help a girl out?

I'm REALLY EXCITED ABOUT THE GOLDEN GLOBE AWARDS ON SUNDAY!

Reasons why:

-Johnny Depp is nominated!

-both movies and TV are awarded, which is kind of weird.  I like it.

-It builds Oscar frenzy

-Johnny Depp has two nominations this year!

-three words: Ricky Gervais hosting.

-Angie might win and lean her head back in a victory cackle, shouting, "The world is mine now, all MINE!"  It would be very dramatic.  Brad would stand back with his new eyebrows-up-unconcerned  face, or maybe his super-cool-other-half-open-collar persona, being all cool yet supportive.  Wouldn't that be great?

...and we'd all laaaaugh about it.


















-Johnny will be up against HIMSELF for an award!

I wonder if he'll be happy for himself if he wins.
















-Somebody will wear something totally ridiculous, which will set me giggling because I secretly love ridiculous clothes.  Well it's not a secret now...

-The Famous sit at round tables, there is alcohol served, and sometimes they drunkenly stagger to the stage and it reminds us that The Famous are really Just Like Us.

And most of all... a big reason why I love the Golden Globe awards...

-Hopefully an actress will show up in a bright glittery gold dress with an extremely plunging neckline and I can crack jokes about Her Golden Globes.  I know.  I'm totally immature.  C'mon Anna Paquin!  Is she nominated this year?  C'mon Halle Berry!  Sofia Vergara?  Help a girl out here?

And as usual, you don't have to watch it, because I will.  And I will report it... MY WAY.

Also I hear the zodiac chart has been all messed with.  Does this affect my life?  Nope.  I'll always be a stubborn old goat.

If you are a writer of fiction, you will understand this.

It's happening again...

Somewhere in the regular work in my day,

between loads of laundry,

trudges through the snow with the Pug,

lugging hay bales,

pushing wheelbarrows full of manure,

sweeping, sweeping, always sweeping,


my Fake People are talking again!

They are having conversations in my head, spontaneously instead of with my prompting.

I'm discovering cool things about my characters and their stories; these things stumped me a year ago.

IT'S HAPPENING!

Now I can leave my silly little one paragraph writing exercises or boring stories I'll never do anything with, and WRITE.

(All I have to do is sit, put down the book I'm reading, and unplug the internet!)

Also... I finally got my 2010 awards done.  Wanna check it out?

STUFF

Why do I have all this stuff?

This week I plan to go through a few boxes taking up room at the end of the upstairs hallway.  I'm tired of walking past the stack of stuff to get to the sewing room, which is the room with the closet I keep my clothes in, and is also stuffed full of boxes.

Do I really need it all?

And when we do find a home of our own... do I really want to lug all this crap into a cube van and into the house?

It amazes me that last year when I was packing up our belongings from our old house, I gave away, sold, junked, and otherwise got rid of, literally truck loads of stuff.  And yet it continues to lurk.

Maybe I'm just getting better at setting priorities when it comes to material possessions...

Ouchie

Warning: this post contains blood.

Phoenix, my Appaloosa gelding, got hurt just before Christmas.  I hate when one of my critters gets hurt, but this was even worse because I was sick and had to go out there and clean him up and wait for the vet to come out and stitch him up.  I think I might have figured out what cut him.  A piece of eavestrough fell off the north side of the barn, and I didn't notice.  We pulled it out yesterday but I don't know if it's got a sharp enough edge that could have done the damage.  My daughter looked around for blood on the snow, the scene of the accident, but there wasn't anything in that spot.  Well, let's face it, a horse can run pretty damn fast...

There's good news though.  The wound is deep but it didn't harm any tendons!  By next week Rob the Vet will have to scalpel off some granulation (proud flesh) but the edges have healed together, and the swelling has gone down.

For the first two weeks we were wrapping both his hind legs.  You know how when you sprain your left ankle, your right knee takes the abuse?  That.  Jethro and I took the kids outta-town for a few days, and Rob the Vet came out to change the bandage and wrap Phoenix's legs again.  I love my vets.  And I was so thankful for that horse's good natured attitude.  Most horses would see the Vet coming and think, "Uh oh.  It's Medicine Smell Guy" and decide to be totally uncatchable.

Oh my gosh he's been so cool about it.  I had to twitch his lip two days ago when Dr Rob took the stitches out, but otherwise, he just stands there with his hoof lifted.  Tolerating.  Last week Annyong stood beside his shoulder and petted him while I wrapped up his leg... and we hadn't put a halter on him. He just stood there for us in the stall.

I love this horse.

This is going to cost me an arm and a leg and an ear.  I've got at least one more vet visit.  I'll have to buy more gauze rolls and padding.  (Good thing I got Vetrap for my birthday eh?)  It might take a few months to pay off that vet bill... but I'll do it for Phoenix.  I want this wound to heal correctly, to keep him sound and moving freely, and not look like he's damaged.  He's the horse I put beginners and little kids on, because he just plods along and never scares anybody.  He's so chill and friendly, and darn it, he's the cuddliest horse I've had since my second pony - I put my arms around his neck and he leans his jaw on my back!  He hugs back!

He deserves the best care I can give him!

Now just to give you an idea of what I'm up against: in this photo you can see the blood running down the inside of his hoof.  The cut is right above that (fetlock area) and it's not really easily accessible.  Notice his other leg and his tail.  In order to get a close look at the wound, I'm basically putting my face right where he could knock me out if he lifted his leg suddenly.

Yikes.  I know I shouldn't trust him so much (I truly don't trust any of them 100%).  He just makes it so easy.  Well, you'll also notice the gauze squares in the shavings... truth is, he jiggled around some.  Can't blame him.

So that's what I've been up to so far this year.  I still intend to blog about Last Year In Entertainment, even though we're almost a week into the new year.  Hey man, I lost a whole week there, what with the skin-crawly-sick-ache flu, plus the amateur horse doctor thing. Keeps me busy and keeps me out of trouble, I guess.

2011 and I are cautiously proceeding with our new relationship.

I'll say this right now though: if 2011 screws with me like 2010 did, we are OVER.  I'll skip straight to 2012, I don't care how much begging 2011 does.  I ain't puttin' up with that kind of crap again.

I'm willing to look at the positives though.

2010 gave me a few brilliant exceptions amidst all the monumental stress.

My god-daughter became the mother of a gorgeous baby boy.

My kids had a great year in the school bands.

Our house sold quickly and above asking price.

I started off the year with no students and ended the year with five.

A cute little red Quarter Horse mare came to live with me.

Does that make up for a devastating fire, the physical and financial aftermath?  Or the loss of a family member, with the legal and emotional aftermath?  The worry about the health of loved ones?  The constant stress of wrangling with debts?

Do the positives make it easier to live in a house with four adults, two teenagers and one bathroom?

Got no answer for that.

2011 is well aware that we intend to get some serious accomplishing done.  We have projects to finish and yes, more moving to do.  Those life altering changes will continue.  We have goals to reach.  By this time twelve months from now I want my husband and I living under the same roof and he won't be staying in the city five days a week.  Those debts of ours aren't really so monumental, and they're shrinking.

Therefore I have advised 2011 to stay alert, cuz things are going to happen.

And the blogging will be happening as soon as I find my iGadget so I can hook it up to the computer and get internet.... so yeah.  It's hard to find a cell phone when it's either dead or the ringer's off.  Yeah yeah, I know, way to start off the new year all organized and stuff.  I'm still ME okay?????