I haven't had a haircut in three years

I have nice hair. I didn't get the big boobs and long legs combo but I have been blessed with thick curly hair. The shortest it's been since age 4 is shoulder length, maybe twice.  I've had 'em so long I was getting tangled up with my back pockets. I'm lucky to get quite a few Good Hair Days.

But there are difficulties. Like, if I get a haircut it better be a good one. Curls and waves don't sit well with cheap haircuts.  This is why I don't fork out the cash for regular trips to the salon. I'd rather pay more and get it done right, but I'm cheap, so I don't do it often. And summer is brutal. Last year my hair was damp all summer. I'd go out to ride and work, sweat like a horse, jump in the pool, take a bath... I'd braid it to keep it out of the way, and rarely gave a chance to dry.  Sometimes I feel like buzzing it all off. Last summer I was on the verge of taking the clippers to my head, but hey, a year ago today I was not thinking right so... Anyways. A haircut is a really BIG DEAL in my world. It's right up there with the MMVAs (omgbiebs) and a Wallenda crossing the falls a on a tightrope -- although not quite as monumental as the Queen's jubilee -- but a Big event for sure.

Sigh... I used to get my hair dyed pink once or twice a year.  It made me feel vibrant.  I'd look in the mirror and see FUN as opposed to fledgling wrinkles and a couple whiskers that nobody told me I'd get after I'd hit 30.  With pink hair I felt like I was not grey and dull.  I loved it and wished my hair would just grow in pink.

But I'm on the other side of 40 now, and haven't sprouted any grey hairs.  So maybe I'll just save my money and be a contented brunette.  Anyways, the well water out here is so rusty we're all turning into redheads.  (ha I wish.  Rust heads?)



 Of course today my hair looks friggen fabulous and I'll probably come home mourning the two inches I got taken off. I predict next week when the sweat is dripping down my neck, I'll be glad my freshly thinned out mane is more manageable!


 Besides I will always be surrounded by somebody else's horse hair.

The world didn't end! Great! On with previously scheduled barn chores, pirates and rock stars. As usual.

WARNING: This blog post contains regular digressions and subject changes which may be unsuitable for some.  This blog post will include pirates, legal drugs, and Beyonce.  Reader discretion is advised.



I'm feeling wretched these days due to a medication adjustment.  Why is it that the drugs meant to make one feel better can make one feel slightly better yet also not quite right, and which will certainly make one feel ABSOLUTELY AWFUL during withdrawal?  I don't want to move, just in case the persistent low grade nausea turns into something urgent  If I hold real still the dizzies won't git me.

There is one upside to this situation. I can hold real still with a Mac in my lap.  WRITING.  And this is very, very good.  I feel super guilty about the work I'm not doing.  But I can give the brain-movies more attention.  I have like, two novels and a Hick Chic Guide on the go.  ADHD anybody?

Damn anti-depressants.  Can't live with em, can't be a rational human being without em.  Oh well.

Here's something else that makes my life bearable: I have teenagers!  Man I'm telling you, teenagers can be so helpful and useful!  They can be trained (if started early enough) to do various household chores like laundry, cooking (yay!) floor sweeping, and sometimes, putting away of stuff.  They can also carry out barn chores, which is wonderful.  They can operate the big lawn mower.  Best of all, they can be taught to drive!  Yes, I have MY OWN DRIVER!

My girl Annyong (Hello!  Annyong!  Hello!) took me out on Friday evening.  We ate ice cream cones while sitting on the wheel humps in the truck box.  While talking to two teenage boys.  It was like history repeating itself and was fun but strange.  (Do othermothers eat ice cream cones in the truck box with teenage daughter and boys she goes to school with????)  Then she drove me to the movies.  Actually before that she drove me all over town, put gas in the truck, and parked it in several locations.  Good little country girl.

We had to go see our beloved Captain Jack.  See what kind of trouble he's causing now.

Oh Jack.  You ARE trouble.

So was it good?  Pffft yeah!  You know I'm not gonna hate it.  The kid and I laughed all the way through it.  We cheered when Blackbeard showed up with his beard all lit up and smoking.

We squealed when Cap'n Jack got a talking to from his ol' man!  

We whispered to each other about the awesomeness of the unstoppable Captain Barbossa.

Also I have two words for you: KILLER MERMAIDS.

Vicious eh?

So that was fun.  We stuck around for the credits like we do.  Did you know this story is loosely based on a novel of the same title by Tim Powers?  Years ago I read another of his novels called The Stress Of Her Regard.  Freaky heavy.  Blew my brain.  Let's hear if for novels.  Yaaaay!




On Saturday I totally forgot about the whole world-ending thing.  Not that I was worried.  I figure if/ when Jesus wants me he'll come get me.




When he's darn good and ready.


Not when I am.


Have I mentioned The Corral Project?   We got some rain, which drained nicely through the gravel, followed by a good solid day of sunshine to dry everything.  Sunshine has been rare this year.

Just a couple squishy spots left, but that's understandable considering the weather.  My ol' man's lived here all his 68 years and says he's never seen it this wet.

I'll be describing in great detail the whole story of this Project.  I'm thinking a whole series of posts.  Those of you who are thinking about what your horses are walking around on will want to be in on this. I hope you like dirt.  I like dirt.


For the rest of you, how about some Beyonce?

(I got these pictures from Go Fug Yourself)




The Billboard awards happened last night.  Beyonce got some kind of Best Everything Of The Millennium award, and who can argue?

I mean, she's the girl from your high school that you would have, could have, should have hated because besides being drop dead naturally gorgeous, she's also super ripped fit, she can dance, she can act, she sings like an angel, as well as sings like the devil when she needs to,

she's totally sexy without being skanky, and she's smart.  She's no dummy.  Hate her yet?

Well you can't because she's also a cool chick.  She's actually kinda nice.  But not too nice.  Just nasty enough to be fun and get the dirty jokes, but probably wouldn't tell them because she doesn't use swear words.  So you can't hate on the girl out of jealousy, because she's not using all her talent and skill to make you feel like crap in comparison.  She just IS.

Also she works her ass off so you can't even chalk it up to luck.  See?  Unhateable.


After her performance, which had something to do with women running the world,  I said, "Wow.  I feel so empowered."  Jethro said, "Yeah, I feel... something...  too."





The rest of the show was weird but we made ourselves sit through it.  Annyong and I missed the first twenty minutes, which Jethro said was the best EVER because Britney and Rhianna did a thing and apparently it was the best thing EVER on TV.

I looked up pictures today.  It looks like there was a pillow fight involved and what's with men and pillow fights? We women don't pillow fight with each other in real life.  It's just in your heads, guys.  Sorry.



Rhianna is so beautiful it's like she's not from this planet. She can even show up in an outfit like this and still look pretty.

Later Ke-dollarsign-HA did a strange and slightly disturbing thing with red-clad male dancers with horse heads and machine guns, and then a big cannon with handlebars which she rode and blew confetti out of.  Also instead of pants she was wearing hot pants and fishnets.  Why are all these young pop stars afraid of pants?  I'm getting bored with crotches.


Also boring: Black Eyed Peas.


Later will.i.am declared that many new artists are "born in the studio" but can "barely perform live" which almost made me choke.  Instead I laughed bitterly.

Let me also mention that this is the guy who, in an acceptance speech at this show, thanked technology, and programmers, computers, blippy things with cool flashy lights, etcetera, or something like that, while at home in our living room with questionable furniture left over from the house we had to sell sold, we yelled at the TV, "WHAT ABOUT THE RECORDING ENGINEERS WHO RUN ALL THE BLIPPY THINGS AND ACTUALLY MAKE YOUR DAMN NOISE INTO SOMETHING THAT CAN BE LISTENED TO IN A RECORDED FORMAT?!?!?!?"

Or something like that.  While I chuckled bitterly.

Then he introduced U2 as his friends and inspiration.

Also he was wearing one of his awful Ken-doll robot helmet-wigs.




Britney was sitting with her outlaw-looking boyfriend and looking shocked and befuddled by everything.  Eyebrows up, mouth open.  Girl, I know it.  I looked and felt the same.  I just didn't get it.

Dude, CEE LO GREEN.  Love that guy!!!!  Just love him.  The giant rhinestone cloak, the silly sparkling fake piano, which floated and flipped, and man, his voice.

Is he the best?  Yeah he's the best.

Speaking of sparkly: Taylor Swift wore something sparkly.  Again.  I still hope that kid stays real and as long as she keeps on taking the high road she can spend her entire career in sparkly evening gowns and I'm okay with it.


You could tell who was singing live by the bad notes.  Hey man.  Props for singing live.  Lady Antebellum sounded genuinely great.  Mary J Blige was excellent as always.

Nicki Minaj, who I think is absolutely adorably cute (I LOVE HER HAIR)  was live but I generally don't get rap so I have no comment.  Although Britney got trotted out again to do a thing with Nicki and sounded... just like she does on the radio!!!!  Hmmm.

Here's the thing about Britney: she can schlump around in rubber flip flops, looking like she's been on the couch eating cheesies for two months, then show up to one of these with glowing skin, flowing hair, her body all fit and slammin' and I don't know how she does it.

Maybe she doesn't either.

I hope she's okay.  She seems like such a nice girl.



OH.  Then Neil Diamond.  Yes.  I have a soft spot for the man for several reasons.

1.  My Cool Young Auntie used to looooove him so I played her Neil Diamond records at Grandma's house.

2. Aging nicely and gracefully.

3. His voice, decades later, is as rich and perfect as ever.

So what did we get?  Singalong with Neil?!?  NO kidding... there he is grooving along to a totally unenthusiastic karaoke track, doing his best to bring the energy cuz he's a PERFESHNUL while the audience waved their arms and tried to stay excited about Sweet Caroline.  Gawd.  Robot music.  Doesn't Neil deserve better?  The man used to wear sparkly jumpsuits for crying out loud!  He's an ICON!!!  Actually that's what the award was for.  For being an ICON despite him saying he wasn't quite sure exactly what that meant.


So all bummed out about Neil being so great but the robot music sucking so bad, we got ready for bed.  Watched the lightning outside, the horses being loopy in the corral, and then gaped out the windows at the SIDEWAYS RAIN.  Thinking about Bucky who was camping with the youth group.  He's got an air mattress... maybe he could float... I hope those boys escaped their tent and hung around in a trailer.   And then there was hail.  And then by the time my teeth were brushed, all was reduced to chilled out little raindrops.


And the world did not end.

We're still living with the grandparents.... still not sure if we'll have work in a few months... don't know if there will still be a music industry by then, or if it will rain all summer and nobody will want to ride horses... never know when nature will take out your whole township.... but the world didn't end.

So.  I'll be taking my fuzzy head and pukey belly out to pick up horse poops in the corral eventually today.

You know what? I think I'm BACK.

To be honest, I kinda feel like I've been phoning it in lately.  I could trot out plenty of excuses: too busy hauling junk to the dump, eighteen loads of laundry a day, horses need to be massaged, really wrapped up in staring at the wall thinking about my next novel, catching up on sleep, really frickin' bummed out about whatever.  That'd all be pretty much true.  It's been Blog Lite around here for way too long.

However.

I might be getting my groove back.

I'm feelin' it people.  I don't know why -- the meds are working?  summer?  -- but something's slowly clicking into place... nothing visible, nothing drastic.  The last 12 months have been a hard slog.  Like walking through mud every day.  The last six months in particular have been ridiculous, in a "When is this going to END" kind of way.  Just one crappy thing after another.  And I'm tired.  

But I survived. I'm surviving.  Still breathing.  Got all my appendages and teeth.  Sometimes it comes down to that, the simplest of gratitudes, and that's good enough.  

I can't afford to celebrate by dying my hair pink (man I would love to dye my hair pink right now, wooooo hooo) but I could shake things up here at Hick Chic.  

Thinking of a little redesign.  

I'm so fond of the clean white background and pink headings, but I'm considering something different.  

What do ya think?

I have no idea why it's so important to me that people I may or may not know should read all my rantings.  But I like it.  

Holy heck I'm leaving in like, three days!!!!!

Jethro and I are going to Newfoundland for the Juno Awards!!!

I better start packing!!!!!

We really should book a hotel room!!!!!!!

I get to meet a blog buddy when I get there!!!!!!

No seriously I need to get crackin' on the packin' and I'm not even sure what house all of our fancy clothes are in.  This is kind of an awkward time to be going on a big business trip/ awards thingie.

Hey - guess what I'm doing to my hair for the Junos.  Guess.

Ready?

Here's a hint: I'm doing something completely different from any other time we've done the Party With/ In The Same Building As Rock Stars Event.

Okay - this is what I'm going to do with my hair....

NOTHING.

Absolutely nothing.

Not even my semi-annual haircut.

I know.  SHOCKING!  Really going in a different direction this time.  I'm so daring.  (And cheap.)

Gotta run- that load of stuff for the dump ain't gonna jump into the back of my truck by itself, y'know.

Hick chic, hippy chic, geek chic, shabby chic... BIKER CHIC?

These pictures were taken at the Little Valley about three weeks ago (when the grass was still brown.)  I almost forgot about my little motorcycle adventure!  I'd been out cleaning the barn when somebody insisted I trade four hooves for two wheels...

Have I ever mentioned I'm not very good on two wheels?  My fellow farm girl and Mother of the Little Valley, Susan, totally gets it.  "We grew up riding ponies, not bikes!"

But after a few close moments (notice how many trees there are out there???)  I got the whole throttle/ brake thing mostly figured out and it was getting to be kinda fun!

And that machine is just my size!  How cute is it?  It's a 1968 Honda.  It ended up at the Little Valley last fall with two others, in need of some repairs.  Some people just loooove their projects.  

I think the helmet makes me look like the Great Gazoo.

 

Y'know, I think I could get used to this.  With my tough pink bandanna, and my artificially coloured hair, and super slick barn jacket.  And my SNEER.  I've definitely got the Don't Mess With Me Sneer.  
 And dude, like most situations in life, the BOOTS totally make the outfit.  

Technically, I don't stalk the "famous" people, but just end up near them, honest..

First of all, THIS is what happens after a black tie banquet, after I've pillaged the centrepieces of their roses, stuffed them into the front of my dress, and have been returned to the hotel room...

...and forced to wait for Jethro to finish iPhoning and texting and emailing all of his peeps and buds and dudes, arranging where we're all going to meet up later.  I suppose I could have headed out on my own but there were, like, people I don't know out there, so I stayed in.

BORRRRRRRING.  Although I do think he's kinda cute when he's all studious like that.  

It was a very nice bathroom.  It magically cleaned itself while we were out for the day.  Mine at home don't do that.  

Eventually we decided the fancy hair was worth showing off so we went out for a beer.  Just one.  At the freakin' Fairmont.  I tried to pretend it was normal, and that we often go out for a beer with me wearing more face paint than usual (which is usually none) and flowers in my hair (which really depends on what's growing outside).

The next day, our big RED CARPET thing, promised some good Famous-people watching.  Here's the thing though: the red carpet is scheduled very carefully.  They don't send Jethro and Heidi out anytime near the carefully appointed Nickelback walk.  You see, that's because half the crowd is there for Nickelback.  Not us.  If the show starts at 5 pm, they want us showing up at 3, no kidding.  Of course, I'm always late for everything, so I got to sneak in on two folks from a funny TV show called Corner Gas.

Oh look! Here's me in a picture with Brent Butt and Nancy Robertson, being interviewed by Ben Mulroney aka Nicest Guy in Television!  Seriously, he's even nicer than Seacrest, and has a similar skin colour.  Are all TV host dudes that colour?  He's a nice, friendly dude.  Not that I'd know personally.  

I like Ben's silver hair and I think Nancy might be tiny, tiny tiny in real life.  I have no idea what Brent is pointing at.  Maybe, "Heck, this carpet's red. Huh."

During the show, we were THISCLOSE to the presentation stage, which meant that I could almost reach out and look at Russell Peters.  He is one funny dude.  

Nickelback started the show and I didn't take pictures because their pyro nearly melted my face off.  They really can claim to be a face melting band.  Seriously, have you ever seen them live?  I have twice now and both times I lost a couple of eyelashes.  They have awesome pyro.  And CHAD'S guitar is very sparkly.  By the way I have decided that the name CHAD must always be typed in uppercase.  And that's all I got to say about that.

Favourite performances?  Loved City and Colour.  Loved, loved!  Gord Downie (Tragically Hip) joined in to sing his verse in "Sleeping Sickness" as well as some harmonies and you know what?  Lovely.  Then Dallas whipped out a note perfect guitar solo- not face melting, just perfect.  Dallas was dressed like a dorky Grade 10 history teacher.  Looked good with his armful of tattoos.  He is adorable!

Serena Ryder- perky, perfect, awesome!

Kathleen Edwards and Bryan Adams - not expecting that!  Wow!  He's sort of been the guy singing all out and stomping a foot, but this was sweet.  It was just him with an acoustic, her with a fiddle, and some gorgeous harmonies.  Then, she made him forget the words - has he EVER forgotten words? - and he shook his head and chuckled.  She's just that charming.  It was lovely.

Great Big Sea/ Eccodek/ Hawksley Workman - Okay, really not expecting this... How do I explain?  They played Zeppelin's "Gallows Pole" only not the way you've heard it.  It was like, four guitars, a bunch of drums, turntable, what the heck all???  I mean, I could pick out all kinds of flaws, but... it kind of .... rocked!  Hawksley got to unleash his inner Page.  

I wish you could have seen Beast from the night before.  Oh my gosh, they're so awesome!  They sat at our table afterwards and what a bunch of sweet, expressive Quebecers!  I would also highly recommend that you catch young Nikki Yanofsky if you get the chance.  

AND our own Molly Johnson is the Jazz Vocal Album winner!  I love Molly.  

For some great concert shots, cute commentary and informative links, go check out the awesome Nanaimo Blahg, because Dilling had it covered from the other side of the stadium!

If you don't know who these people are, there's this cool tool called the internet, go look 'em up!  

There's also a cool invention called AFTERPARTY.    Often, free drinks are served along with weird things on toothpicks.  It's okay, it's yummy even if you don't know what it is.  Be brave.  Afterparties are great places to accidentally on purpose walk past many famous people.  

It's also a good excuse to let your friends take ridiculous pictures of you and your mate.

Oh, here's me "with" a guy called Nardwuar.  He's amazing.  He knows everything about every band that every musician has ever been in.  I'm not kidding.  It's heroic.  That's him in the plaid beret and maroon velvet jacket.  That's me holding my groovy Nardwuar pen.  
If I hold the pen upside down, Nard's Canada flag shirt falls off, exposing his Austin Powers-esque chest.  hahahaha!  Hours of fun!

Now let's make this clear: I am not stalking this man.  I'm not.  We just always run into each other at these events.  
He sees us, we all grin, he does the ol' handshake & man-hug with Jethro (it involves back patting of the most strenuous kind) and then I line up for my squeezy hug.  With that look on my face.  Oh my gosh, solid bass player and pro hugger.  We chat, the guys talk music, then I jiggle up and down on my tiptoes and ask for another hug, then I ask for a picture for PROOF that I got a hug.  That's all okay, right?

(He noticed my hair!  Said he liked it better when it was pink streaks all over, like last year, cuz it had more IMPACT but this is good too. Good enough for me too then, buddy-pal!)

I do stalk this guy though.

I follow him EVERYWHERE including to his hotel room and onto airplanes.  

He took this picture of me at crazy-o-clock in the morning, for a joke.

Then when I got home I did laundry for a day.

It's fun to go do the big rockstar thing but after five days in the city I gotta run.  Doesn't matter how beautiful that city is- and Vancouver is beautiful.  I just can't take it.  I'm glad we had to stop at the farm before heading home.  I flung a bit of horse manure and snuffled some horse muzzles just to keep it real.  

But Vancouver... (and you, Dilling!) I'd love to come back and see you again in the future!

Black tie PICTURES awards gala PICTURES Jethro and I cleaned up PICTURES

SPOILER ALERT:  Jethro did not win the Juno award for Engineer of the Year. It went to the awesome Kevin Churko, who also won last year.  (I think Jethro's relieved- he hates being the centre of attention.)

That's what he's got me for.  I can't help it; I tend to do stupid things regardless of where I am.  Here I am  ironing my VINTAGE dress.  I know- my talents are far reaching, eh?  Meanwhile, Jethro had a hard time picking between his black shirt, and his black shirt. 

He took pictures and then I freaked out that I had to put on my face and everything, so... he finished ironing the ruffle.  He is awesome.  

OH look, here we are!  This is the first time I've worn a black dress to one of these things.  I used to always wear black (like twenty years ago at my prom!) but then a few years ago my brain rearranged itself and now I like pink.   

Hence pink roses in my hair and pink shoes.  TELL ME YOU LOVE MY SHOES.  I know you do, don't even try to be all cool about it.  You totally love my shoes!

Oh look, our Bubba finally got to leave the studio for a weekend!  Here he is, all cleaned up and showing off his lovely little lady, Starla!

 
Starla rocks.  She and I like to see who's taller depending on what shoes we're wearing.  You should tell Starla that you like her shoes too, okay?

Starla took me shoe shopping yesterday.  We are a truly awesome shopping team, because we both like to pick things up and touch them and whisper about how much we love the item and how cute it is... and then not buy it because it costs too much. 

Hey- look what I found at our table:

  

This is so funny!  Just think about it: Cougars for Kroegar.  What?  Are we voting?  Am I old enough to be a cougar?  Is there a Best Belt Buckle award that I didnt know about???

But wait- it gets better.  Halfway through the night, after I'd passed them around to the rest of the table, a security jarhead came along, you know, with the little cord behind his ear and everything, to scoop up the last of them.  Turns out, these little buttons were "unauthorized" and caused a "security breach."  Come on, that is some funny stuff!

Also funny: the fact that when I tried on my 20-year old dress, I did not sit down in it.  It got reeeeally tight.  Ooof.
And yet, I smiled for the camera.  So did Jethro.  He was not, NOT inebriated in this picture (or at all this evening), he simply does not like having his picture taken.

I like this one...
...except for my forehead vein.  And my evil red eyes.  I'll have to fix that later.  Unless I pop a vein later. 

Darnit, we always look drunk in these pictures, and we're not!  I don't get it.  Weird. 

So like, they put white roses all over the tables, and by the end of the evening, I am doing this:

I cannot be trusted.

Holysmokes, airplane, hotel, rockstar, Jethro, two days from now, Holyjeepers

I AM LEAVING IN TWO DAYS.

I HAVE NOT STARTED PACKING.

I AM NOT SURE YET WHAT I AM GOING TO WEAR WHEN WE DO OUR RED CARPET WALK

HANG ON... MY BIGGEST PROBLEM RIGHT NOW IS THAT I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I'LL BE WEARING WHEN WE WALK THE RED CARPET.  

My life is actually kinda  pretty much okay, I guess.

I've known about this little trip for long enough that I should have been able to get it together, but I've been thinking about other stuff.  Other stuff can really take up a lot of brain room.  

I made a packing list.  Well, I started a list.  That counts, right?

I got my hair done... that definitely counts.

Here's the strange thing about me:  I usually get the straight male hairstylist.  And I like it.  

This time around, it was Stavros, and I'm thinking he's a keeper.  Not only did he do an awesome job of layering my thick mess of wavy hair, and sneak some groovy cherry-red highlights in there, but he's also 22, Greek and gorgeous!  He's got those big dark brown eyes, curly hair, a perfect forehead (Yeah I notice everything) and those big pretty lips.  Nice arms too.  Just a lovely young fella.  

I took Jethro's car up to the salon (not saloon) knowing that he'd trade it around for the truck when he had to leave for work.  This is what Jethro told me later, when I phoned him:

"I looked in the window but I didn't see you.  I was thinking of coming in to say hi, but I figured you were having such a nice time looking at Stavros while he had his hands in your hair, you didn't need me pokin' my hairy mug in there and ruining it for ya!"

Jethro is awesome.  

Speaking of which, I think it would be kind of nice if he won a Juno this year.  He's in a category with a few guys he's really looked up to over the years.  Get that - he admired them, and now he's one of them.  There could be 20-year olds who are admiring ol' Jethro right now.

I know I do.

I gotta cut off this incredibly random, rambling, aimless blog post now... I should really wash some dishes before my Mom comes up here to hang with my kids and dog and house.  Also I should do some laundry.  And look at my hair one more time.  

more things I gotta say, but real quick

-hate the city!  Okay, it's fine if somebody else is driving and I can look at all the funky shops and weird people and cool old buildings.  But man, who's idea was it to put railroad tracks in the pavement?  Way to go Toronto.  Now I don't know where to put my tires.  Like, whether it's a huge boat of a truck or a little german car, I still don't know what side of the %^$^* tracks to drive!  I hate it!  

-Jethro's gig this week is in the city, by the way.  Him and Mac White.  I think it's funny that the machine I use for blogging and pictures and poking away at my novel(s) is running an entire afternoon of bands performing.  Ha, things you didn't know about the music biz, eh?

-winter needs to kiss my butt.  

-I'm tired.

-I think the huge red pills are working -I'm surviving this yucky time of year- but after a while, how can anybody really tell if they're sane or not?  Really, how do you know?

-I'M GETTING MY HAIR DONE TOMORROW.  This is long overdue.  Maybe now I can look in the mirror without thinking "Blahhhhhhhh...."

-Believe it or not, sometimes I don't feel like riding.  It's cold, it's grey outside, I'm tired.  But then I get on that horse and I kind of want to stay there all day.  Until my toes get cold.  Then I'm done.

-there are days when I fear that I will be editing this darn book for the next three years.  

-there is no such thing as "good enough" when it comes to my book.  I need it to reach out and grab the reader by the throat and give it a good shake.  Can that be done with words?  It's gonna have to.

-I really gotta get outta here.  

-What is it you gotta say?

Paula Abdul wearing FEATHERS and a dog who snores while awake

Here's the news from my world:

-Yes Paula was wearing something feathery on American Idol tonight, which made my daughter and I both shriek with happiness.  Oh she makes me so, so happy, with her wacky outfits and choked up teary voice and perfect eyebrows and fluffy hair.  She is the Queen of Unicorn Land, and my 14 year old is the Grand Presidential Princess.  Paula got talking about all the colours of somebody's voice or something, and people, I frickin LOVE IT when she gets all colourful like that.  (Also, damn you Simon Cowell for having such an adorable grin.  Stop making it hard for me to dislike you. )

Last week, for the record, Paula wore PINK LEOPARD PRINT which had me damn near on the floor rolling in the crazy magnificence.  I want pink leopard print.  It would look perfect with my ratty old brown chaps and my John Deere hat.  I could totally start a new trend, I'm sure of it.

Every time the camera got her, that scarf was tied in a different configuration.  It was nuts.  

-This reminds me that I MUST get my hair dyed pink.  It's that time of year.  I hate looking in the mirror and I need a big jolt of fun.  

-I'll forget about the hair thing until I'm sitting on a horse and can't call to make an appointment.

-My project this week is to tune up Bo, aka the Grumpy Ol Gelding.  What a piece of work.  I love him irrationally.  How can I love such a crusty horse? I just do.  He got ornery during a lesson, and that's not like him... we suspect he's just been getting away with laziness and other misbehaviour.  It's my job now to remind him that he's gotta behave.  I need to get him collected and moving forward.  I'm also making him stand there like a gentleman during grooming and tacking up.  It may be only a tiny step to one side but dammit, it's that kind of passive-aggressive &%&& that ends up with me on my ass and him bucking and farting away from me.  Not that he's ever done that to me.  I'm just saying, it theoretically could happen.  I'm fixin' to prevent that!

-My dog can snore when he's awake.

-My husband can fall asleep in any position, for any length of time, even mere seconds.  

-He can also parallel park a full size GMC pickup truck on a busy street in downtown Toronto.  I have photographic proof!  Full report later!

-My cat is still alive!

-Jethro is heavily involved in this event called Canadian Music Week.  In order to do the gig, he needs to take Mac White here along with him.  I must not complain, since it is technically his computer and this is what he bought it for... not for me to blog and write novels and email, the Tribble Girl to play Howrse and Bucky to play Redline.  It was meant to be a music making machine.  So, it'll be Blog-Lite this week.  Sorry.  I'll sneak into his office and see if I can make the Big Machine work for me.  

-My "new" saddle fits Phoenix!  Yay!  Pictures of newly improved tack room coming up later!  

-Tribble got 93% in Science.  I just wanted you all to know that.

-I started a new book and then got all tangled up in my um, current book, and now I can't stop thinking about those darn kids.  It's okay.  I have to tell their story.  The 33 year old horse trainer with multiple tattoos and nomadic musician boyfriend can wait.  

-I hate the time change.  It messes me up for days.  I'm TIRED.

-past my bedtime.  Gotta go.

No really.  I'm tired.  Seriously, I can hardly type.  Let me go to bed already, please I beg you.  Thanks.  Go chill in the comment section and I'll be back when the crotchety horse looks happy again and the whole world is swathed in pink leopard print and lions and lambs and all that stuff.  Later!

I have almost forgotten that I was the girl with the pink hair...

I'm trying hard to avoid hittin' the wall, crashing, having a meltdown, losin' my marbles.  Sinking into a Deep Blue Funk.  Sure the medication seems to be working, and the dog is reeeeally excited about going for walks in the sunshine.  Yes, we have had sunshine this week.  You'd think that would lift me, but I'm in danger of becoming a blob of apathy.

I am so sure that I'm black & white in a world of washed out colour.  I'm having a hard time looking in the mirror.

Oh, don't look.  I'm hideous.  Really, avert your eyes.

But you know what I think would really make a big difference?  

I need to dye my hair pink again. 

I'm thinking of getting some highlights.  

Just right there, y'know, just to kind of "frame the face" as the hairdressers say.

I think that would make me just a little happier every time I look in the mirror.

Dolly Parton was on American Idol last night. I'm getting my haircut today.

She's the girl next door...if you happen to live next door to an amusement park!  And I didn't come up with that, she did!

There's only one Dolly, which is probably a good thing because I don't think the world can handle more than force of nature like this.

What amazes me about Dolly is her authenticity.  Even with the fake nails and hairpieces and... well everything, she's still so down to earth.  She'd be the first one to tell you that it takes a lot of work to look as outrageous as she does.  I believe she's even compared herself to a show dog!

She's so over the top, she's for real.  But it's just wrong when anybody else tries this.  Only Dolly Parton can look like THIS and not look stupid.  Because she is Dolly Parton.  

And you, my friend, are not Dolly Parton.  Nope, you are not. No big yellow hair and sparkly gingham shirt for you, uh uh!  Sorry!

But I'll tell ya, I suddenly very much want a yellow pickup truck and a giant pink dress. Why is it illegal in Ontario to ride around in the back of a pickup truck?  Why?  It can't be because it'll wreck your magnificent up-do.  Dolly would find a way around it.  I love the title of her newest record.  BACKWOODS BARBIE.  That is awesome.   That is so Hick Chic.  She is my hero.

But let's not forget the whole reason why she is a superstar.  It's her talent.  She has written, like, a gazillion songs.  At least.  Seriously, twenty-five number 1 hits.  Her songs have been covered by everyone from Whitney Houston to the White Stripes.  You know her voice the instant you hear it.  

And I, my friends, am not Dolly Parton.  Not in any way shape or form!


I've got a noon appointment for a cut and colour.  I'm trying a new place.  The salon has a name I can never remember and nobody flinched when I told them I'm a year overdue for a little trim.  When I said I want some pink highlights, she nodded her head and told me they could do that.  Yessss!  Although I'm feeling kind of burned because a girl named Avril totally jacked my pink hair thing.  Okay, she doesn't know me from a hole in the ground, but I'm just saying, I was totally doing pink hair two years ago.  Imagine running into her at a party.  It would be awkward.  I'm just saying.  

And then I'm going to do laundry and pack.  Pictures to follow.  Of the hair do, not of the suitcase.  

And IIIII eeeIIIIIIIIII

will always 

love youuuuuuuu.....