Dear Wal,
I'm sorry my posts have been so splotchy lately. My life is splotchy.
Back on subject.
Why could I die tomorrow? The answer is quite elementary, my dear Watson. I've decided to take Buzzy to a horse show. Buzzy, who is obsessed with plastic. Buzzy, who is afraid of suspicious looking trunks and storm drains. Buzzy, who is fascinated with mules (I need to tell that story someday...)
Hopefully, this experience will be constructive and fun and ridiculous (at first I typed...ridididiculous *sigh*) and not a horribly-scared-for-life kind of experience. Both of my instructors are coming, and my parents...and so I won't be freaking out and totally alone. Plus, Buzzy and I have come through like champs in this kind of environment before. My 4-H camp experience this year was actually fun, instead of traumatizing and depressing like all the previous years, largely because I actually knew what I was doing for once. I wasn't the idiot who can't swim floundering around in the deep end. Don't let people tell you it's a good idea to just throw people who can't swim in the water. You have to teach them to float on their backs first...or else they might die. Anyway.
Tonight I did all of my show preparations, not entirely unlike my camp preparations, except that they would have started three days earlier. Unfortunately, school makes that impossible or near-impossible. It's times like these I wish I was Kryptonian. I would have been finished two hours ago. Anyway, I foolishly didn't wash Buzzy first and instead did everything else first, so that I was finishing up his clipping and giving him a bath in near-darkness. Florescent lights just don't measure up to a sunny day with horses. It just doesn't work. Another problem I had was that I had never clipped a horse, ever. In my entire life. I wish there was really a collective human consciousness, because then I could have sucked clipping skills out of someone's brain. Let me just say I did a really bad job, especially on his ears. Whoever came up with the idea to shave all the fuzz out of a horse's ear obviously never owned a horse in his entire life. Maybe he had a fake horse, that wasn't afraid of large buzzing things in its ears. (Maybe it was a robot horse...haha) Honestly, I can't blame them. I wouldn't want someone shaving the insides of my ears, if I had fuzz on the inside of my ears. Which I don't.
Anyway, it looks kinda bad...but who cares? I'll be too busy concentrating on keeping both of us emotionally sound to care about what his ears look like. I know all I really have to do is get him into a nice gait in order to got people looking at him. He's amazing.
Dad is going to take lots of pictures...but I don't know when I'll get them from him, so I may end up posting the followup to this post tomorrow with no pictures. So. Sad.
/endrant
P.S. I have kindle minecraft. Fear me.
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