Testosterone/Estrogen poisoning.

I'm sure I've used the term testosterone poisoning before, and I just used estrogen poisoning over at AD's blog in a comment on his post about how he's not gonna turn into a totally sappy blog but might get sappy once in a while.

It just occurred to me that some of my readers might not understand these phrases, so I decided to explain them. If you knew them already, well, I hope you get a kick out of it anyway.

Testosterone Poisoning: 1. That condition in which a male does stupid things, simply because he is a male.
Some examples of this kind of testosterone poisoning include: Dumb bar fights, dumb shooting competitions, any contest or activity which begins with the phrase "hold my beer," and any activity, the idea for which originated somewhere in the bottom half of a bottle.

2. That condition in which a female is surrounded by males, smothered in testosterone, and then a) does something stupid herself, or b) gets fed up with all of them and goes to seek the company of women.

Estrogen Poisoning: 1. The condition of a male when he is acting somewhat "girly." This includes, but is not limited to, writing sappy poetry, crying during chick flicks, and giving his significant other nicknames such as "pooky," "schnookums," or "snuggle boo."


2. The technical description for the state of mind of a "tomboy" when she is fed up with being eyeball deep in the bull pucky of her own sex. This condition can cause her to use phrases such as: "Good God! Grow a set and get over it!" "What the hell is this? Fashion hour?!?" "Boo freaking hoo, you broke a nail, stop gluing big fake ones on and man up, you little pansy woman!"


So now you know.

Why can't people get it?

Had a nice visit with my good friend R today. She's my hairstylist and fashion consultant, best friend for many many years, and just all around good gal, most of the time.

Unfortunately, she thinks I need to be "hooked up" and she always picks the absolute worst person.

For example... the first guy she tried to hook me up with... well, he was in love with her. No really, the guy loved her... and he and I turned into good friends, I took him to the one prom that I attended, and shook my head as he mooned over her and she was oblivious.

Second guy... same deal, except that he showed up after two months of nada, never even called to say hi howareya, knocking on the door at two am... wanting to get all friendly with me. Ugh.

So yeah, she has a bad track record for picking men for me... she's not allowed to hook me up anymore, and she knows this... she just ignores it a lot of the time.

Today, she asked me when I was gonna give it up and just go out with T.

I laughed until I hurt.

When I told T about it tonight, he said "People just don't get us, do they?"

Guess not.

I love T to death, and he's a little (little, ha, he's a giant, but he'll always be little to me) hottie, but as far as a sexual thing? Nahhhhhh, its just not there, for either of us.

I'm lucky enough to have a few "best" friends. R, and T's big sister are two of them... we've stuck together most of our lives, in spite of being separated in recent years by much distance. T is another.

T is a very special person, he's one of the best men I know, even if I do call him a guy or a boy most of the time, that's just because he'll always be that slightly chunky little smartass that I knew all those years ago, in my mind.

But as far as he and I having a relationship?

The world would implode. No really, the combined force of that much snark having sexual relations would cause a quantum reaction that would end life as we know it. The entirety of the universe would wink out and be replaced either with a big Don't Panic button or a big artistic rendering of the middle finger being given. It would all depend on which one of us was having more evil thoughts at the end.

I can't believe people really want that, and yet, they keep encouraging us to get together... I just don't know why they can't seem to get it?

YAY!!!

Got my phone, tv, and internet hooked up.

And whooo-eeee this internet is fast. It makes me happy.

I do need a longer phone cord, though, since for some gawdawful reason my phone has to be plugged into the back of my modem.. I don't know, don't really care. Just gotta get a phone line long enough to run to like the side table instead of having the phone base on the floor by the desk.

But I have TV!!! No more insanity!

Ok, so no more than usual.

Procrastination

So, J has put me off again on whether or not to bring ol' Red up, but the plan at this point is bring him unless J tells me otherwise. He showed me the list and he's *been* counting me so unless he gets someone that insists on bringing one more than he needs up, then both of the boys come.

Still don't have a feed crew list, but oh well, we'll figure it out.

If too many people don't get their horses in Saturday and insist on spreading themselves out (jeez, people, we're gonna fill the barn up anyway, might as well let 'em get used to having neighbors) I'll stall the two boys next to each other. Double checked with the instructor and she's for stalling buddies together, so that's good. Some trainers want buddied-up horses stalled separately, they say it helps them get over having to be around each other *all* the time. So I wanted to double check.

So that's the plan, Stan, since I know Farmdad will be reading this at some point today, and if I don't get ahold of Farmmom while she's going to lunch then he'll be able to tell her. And if I get a call not to bring Red I'll call right after.

(Kinda nice, being able to just leave a note here.... :P )

Early Mornings

I've gotten into the habit of sleeping in till six am, or six thirty. Feels nice.

Of course, that also means that by nine thirty, ten o'clock at night, I'm ready to pass out. So, the nightlife isn't much, but then, I haven't had much of a nightlife, other than a rare outing with T for quite a while, so I'm used to it.

In exchange, I get these peaceful mornings. I can hear my neighbors' kids, and the rat dogs* they keep as pets, until ten thirty, eleven at night, but from six am to around eight, its quiet, its peaceful. There's a gentle glow of sunlight coming in my windows and the only sounds I hear are the few people who leave for work around this time.

I can think, in these still moments, about all of the things that are usually running around in the back of my brain trying to figure themselves out.

I can think about my friends, and how much I miss them, and I can plot on how I'm going to take over the world and make whining about something you did to yourself a punishable offense.

I can think about the great times I've had in the past and the better ones that are coming in the future, because I said so and I'm too stubborn to be wrong.

I can think about the difficulties that are coming, too, and depending on the state of my emotions that day I can worry about them, or scoff at how paltry they are.

I can think about my dreams, and most days, I think I'm gonna make it there. Just because I took one tiny step forward, going back to school, everything looks like its closer to falling into line.

Heck, if I'm lucky, I've even got a ginormous mare already knocked up, to possibly start down the path to my extremely long term and just for fun goal of breeding up a strain of horses similar to the medieval war horses, to sell to the folks who are in the Society for Creative Anachronism.

Besides, come on, who wouldn't want a huge freakin horse smart enough to learn plenty of cues and make it look like they're mean and nasty, and yet gentle enough that you can take them home and put your two year old on their back and never worry? (Thats my ultimate goal, dual purpose war horses :P )

But, thats way down the line in the future. This summer I'll probably be picking up horses cheap at the sale, prettying them up and slapping some manners on them, and taking them back to sell for more money, just because they look nice and have an impressive set of turns on them. And after next year, who knows? Maybe I'll continue that, and maybe I'll get an excellent internship and they'll love me and keep me around. Maybe.

But these quiet moments, the stillness before the day starts, while I have my coffee, is when I can think about these things, turn them over in my mind like a worry stone in my fingers and figure out the ones that need figured out, smile at the ones that need smiling at, and breathe a sigh that lets all of it go, and prepares me for the day.


* Rat dogs= Chihuahuas. Some days I swear they've got at least four of them in there, some days I think it's just one. I'm swiftly coming to the conclusion that these crazy people who have oversized bug-eyed rats running around their home and call them dogs have playdates for the little yappers.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow we have "safety demonstrations" at the barn, and tack inspections. I'll also find out if Farmmom needs to bring Red up with The Bay.

After that, I'm free till Farmmom brings the horses up Sunday morning.

Get the boys settled in and hopefully stalled next to each other, and then start riding Monday. Woot! We'll also find out Monday what the feed crews are, because J is a procrastinator.

I have no inspiration today, so this is all ya'll get. Sorry.

The Best Worst First Date Story Ever, Continued.

Ok, now where was I?

Oh yes, we'd just left for the festival.

Well, the drive up was fine, we talked and joked and listened to the radio and generally just had a good time.

About the time we were pulling into the ranch D tells me he had to do some work before we could go do the fun things. The ranch owner, who considered the ranch his hobby (jeez I wish I had that much money!) had decided to bring his secretary and her mother down to go horseback riding.

These women had never been on a horse in their lives.

So D saddled up his trusty old pony Sonny, explained the basics, and gave the-- rather large-- mother a leg up into the saddle. She walked around a bit and seemed to be managing things ok, and the Boss wanted to talk to D about some things, so they headed toward the house, while I stood around near the gate watching.

Good thing, too, cause Mother dearest managed to kick ol' Sonny up into a trot, against the horse's better judgment, and bounced herself right out of the saddle. Thud.

Not only did she fall off, but she managed, somehow, to fall and roll underneath the horse, so Sonny, being the well mannered horse that he was, tried his best not to step on her, and gave a little jump.

It wasn't his fault that she picked her head up just as his back feet were going over her.

Sonny freaked, the mother was unconscious, I hollered out and brought everybody running.

Of course, me being me, I took off running too... but I was trying to intercept Sonny before he ran through the fence.

What? I didn't have a clue what to do for the woman, and I did know what to do with the horse.

Well, I didn't catch Sonny before he hit the fence, he cut his nose and chest a little, nothing major but in spots that bleed pretty good, so he had some dripping going on. Especially from the nose cut.

I grabbed his reins and braced myself for him to pull back, a typical reaction when a horse is freaked out and someone runs up to him, so I wasn't prepared for Sonny to shove his whole head in my chest. Hard. Like, the only reason I didn't fall was because I grabbed his mane hard. Poor horse just knew he was in trouble.

Now, I was wearing a pair of Rockies jeans, very nice western women's jeans, make even the flattest butts look good... but anyway, one of their signature styles is vertical stripes, and I was wearing those.. Blue and white, vertical stripes... bleeding horse....

So at this point I had spots of horse blood down one leg of my jeans, and I was trying to calm him down enough to get him back over to where the lady was, to see if there was anything I could do there, and he wouldn't lead. He kept hiding his face in my chest, and at one point, while I was turning him in a circle to try and get him moving, he stuck his head over my shoulder and nuzzled my cheek, looking for reassurance.

So, quite logically (to me,) I threw a leg over him and rode him back over. He was fine with it, once I was in the saddle.

When I got there I got a couple of funny looks from people, the lady was still out like a light, and someone had called 911. This being out in the middle of nowhere, we had to meet the ambulance at the start of the ranch road and lead them in, and D and I got volunteered for that.

But first, I had to take care of the horse. I unsaddled him and left the saddle sitting on a trailer, since I didn't know where it was supposed to go, put him in the pen and took off his bridle, and then raced him to the gate, since he was still feeling insecure and had latched on to me as his security blanket.

Sitting on the bed of D's truck while waiting for the ambulance to arrive, I managed to give D a bit of a shock.

"You've got blood on you."

I looked down at my jeans and sighed.

"Yeah, I know. It's from the cut on Sonny's nose. Hopefully it will come out."

"No, I mean you've got blood on you."

"Huh?"

"Your face," D pointed to my cheek, and I reached up and touched it, coming away with blood on my fingers.

"Oh, that's Sonny's too..."

"You're the strangest girl I've ever met, you know that? Most girls would be freaking out about all of this, and here you are, smeared with horse blood, acting like it's no big deal."

"Well it's not, I wash just fine, I don't shrink or anything!"

D just shook his head.

We got the Mother to the ER, hung around long enough to make sure she was ok (I think she just had a mild concussion and a broken nose from the fall and Sonny's foot) and went to get some lunch. I wanted Pizza Hut, so that's where we went.

'Course, I got funny looks when we ordered, because by this time I had forgotten all about the blood smeared on me, until D busted out laughing after the waitress left and asked me if I was gonna clean it off or not.

Went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and I had a streak about three inches wide from my cheekbone to my collarbone. No wonder she was looking at me funny!

After lunch it was off to the local park there to kill time before the dance. We'd missed most of the during-the-day activities, because of the trip to the ER, so we were just waiting for the dance to start, and decided to feed our leftover breadsticks to the ducks that live in and around the pond there.

Poor D, the one big gray goose that was there decided that D was the greatest thing since sliced bread, that is, until we ran out of breadsticks.

Then the thing attacked him. And he squealed like a girl. No, really. I thought I was gonna hurt myself laughing so hard.

The rest of the evening went pretty well, aside from explaining the reddish-brown smears and spots on my pants, and me delaying leaving to go home until the very last possible second.

D was terrified we'd find Farmdad up waiting for us, and drove like a crazy person to get me home on time. Of course, I knew that Farmdad would already be in bed, and I was right.

Fed D a cup of coffee and off he went to drive back up there, poor guy.

D and I never went on another date, but we did become good friends. When he was dating the woman he's now married to, he told me "You have to meet her! She's just like you, only better!"

Gee, thanks D.

The blood did come out of the jeans, thanks to Farmmom, even though I did get a lecture the next morning about not saying things like "its blood, the guy at the ER said to use this brand of cleaner on it..." when Farmmom asked me what the stain was....

* Author's note; Since I pounded the first version of this out in between classes, (because AD called me a tease) it was fairly rough. Edits have been made to improve the reading experience.