I am the James Bond of the horse world!

(Pictures from this weekend's rodeo. Above: Little Britches Rodeo Mini Bull Rider)

FYI, If there were a CIA for decrypting horse ads and seller replies I'd totally be a secret agent. I'm just going to go ahead and say it like it is... put all humility aside and tell you frank....

I am James freakin' Bond of the horse world... oh yah!... only minus the suit... and the hunkiness.... Oh! Maybe I could be one of those skinny lingerie wearing secret double agents !... Only the plus size Spanx wearing version. *guileless blank stare*

No seriously though. I think I am going to write a book on how to decrypt horse seller jargon. It really is an art. And I'm not talking about the obvious ones either. Everyone knows that "gaming prospect" should be read as "hotter than hell" and "green broke" really means that Rocky is frequently used as late night entertainment by a seriously drunken Cousin Billy doing his best impression of a rodeo bronc rider.... or better yet, "was really good while been ridden around the field bareback with a halter and a lead rope by my four year old daughter!"... and by now most horsemen should know that ALL grade horses remain forever 12 years old.... even the ones so obviously ancient that my friend Nancy would see fit to remark (as she did once before) "Twelve years old my ass! Jesus rode that horse!"

To be continued.

(Another) Rant on the Cost of Horses

Hmm.... where to start.

I think I need to change my title back to "horse crazed".... it seems that I might have jinxed myself by pretending that I might not be as completely and totally obsessed as I once was.

What the hell is it with horses anyways? Seriously. Why do I resist it? I want to be normal. I want to spend my money on traveling, my home, my wardrobe, shoes, luxurious dinners, trips to the spa... I really do have other passions. But horses! The bloody useless hairy beasts! It's always freakin' horses that pull me back in time and time again.

So... it's a maybe but a pretty good chance that by this time next month I might have bought a new horse. It's a safe bet. But I am hesitating. Why?

Simple....

$$

$ for ferrier

$ for board

$ for vet

$ for new boots, blankets, pads, supplements etc. etc. etc.

Get this, I havent paid a horse bill in 20 months. Not a single one. Well... maybe just a tiny itty bitty one. I bought a halter because it was pretty, a soft pale pink, and a good brand on sale for $10. I couldnt resist. I took a handful of lessons and paid $200 for a lease. So whoopty doo! I've spent less money on horses in the past year and half than I usually spent in a week. I want another horse but having been out of the game so long I fear those blinders that keep horse people from realizing the total cost of horses have fallen off and the dollars and cents of it all is slightly terrifying.

I think horse people desensitize themselves to the true cost of horse ownership. Boarding and feed are just the beginning. Getting a horse shod these days costs at minimum $180. So a few grand a year there. A bottle of fly spray here, a tube of ointment there. Shots, teeth floats, maybe a new saddle pad, a trip to the chiro.... Blankets, fly sheets, coolers, the list goes on an on and it all adds up. And that's just your keep. You still gotta use the bloody thing. So then you think about hauling, entry fees, gas to and from the barn, lessons. And then soundness issues. Oh! Oh! Oh! The soundness issues! And only the best kind will do.... I especially love those sneaky bastardly types that pop up like mushrooms and only magically disappear once you've spent a fortune trying to get it diagnosed.

*gasps for breath*

Ok ok... I'll stop.

I really do want a horse. Really.

I'm just sayin' is all.

The Abominable Spinning Lady Results

I was shocked at home many of you thought this spinning lady "went both ways"! Har! Har! (*blank stare*) Ya know... both ways... *nudge wink* whatever.

So...

Of the fourteen respondents (country girl and oregonsunshine didnt actually give an answer:)

3-Started clockwise (then changed)
3-Started counter-clockwise (then changed)
1-Clockwise (no change)
2-Counter-clockwise (no change)
3-both ways

Add to that "clockwise (no change)" my vote. I can not make her change. No way, no how. I cant fathom how anyone can see her go any other way... however, if I scroll down so that just her feet are showing (below the knee) I can make her change direction for a half rotation.

What is it suppose to mean? Well, if you first see it go counter clockwise you are left brained and those who saw her first spin clockwise are right minded.

I found this website that listed common characteristics for left and right minded people. The most primary characteristic in everything I've read is the left minded tend to be "thinking" (logic) while right minded tend towards "feeling".

I found an article that I think really best describes the difference between left and right minded. Click on the links below to go the page (no penile extension products offered... promise.)

Left Minded

Right Minded

The Abominable Spinning Lady

Okay so... let's pretend to ignore my (obvious) blogger growing pains for a moment... *ehem*




I am very curious what you all have to say about The Abominable Spinning Lady. And no, The Abominable Spinning Lady is not a Stephen King book... nor a movie featuring projectile vomit. It's a rather simple little optical illusion that I've noticed in the advertisement "banners" of some websites... have you seen her? (btw, I gave her the name "The Abominable Spinning Lady"... dont ask why she's "abominable" okay? Let's just say I felt "spinning lady" lacked for a little drama)..... so, she is this ballerina-esque lady spinning around and around on her pivot foot with a link underneath that says, "Which was is the ballerina spinning?" and something like "click here and find out if you are a genius!!!"



I always figured it was some false lead in for a penile enlargement site (Oh! Oh! I saw a hilarious comedy sketch about penile enlargement the other day! I'll see if I can find it!)... and it probably is but every time I've seen that ballerina I've wondered it it is humanly possible for anyone to see her spin a different direction than I did... to the extent that I actually thought it was a trick question. In case you didnt know I often have far to much time on my hands....that combined with a hopelessly inquisitive mind leads me to "googling" and reading up on some seriously bizarre topics (Did you know that the sun makes up 99.8% of the mass of the solar system?... and that some mushrooms contain more potassium per pound than bananas? (I can hardly think the word Bananas without singing "It's bananas! B.A.-N.A.-N.A. S!").... and that watermelons are stir fried and pickled in China?...wikipedia and I are like this *holds up crossed fingers*....)



Where was I? Oh yes the dizzy lady.... So I decided to get to the bottom of that blasted ballerina once and for all! I found a blog with a long and in depth thread discussing the left brained vs right brained (hemisphere) and the personality/intelligence level of people who see her spin one way vs. the other vs. both. Without further prompting I have to ask... Which way does The Spinning Lady spin for you? *** DO NOT CLICK ON THE "CLOCKWISE/COUNTERCLOCKWISE" BUTTONS TO REPLY TO THIS THREAD PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT****

Grrr!!! Blogger!!

How anticlimactic is this?!?! All that talk of a new title and format and what do I come out with....a new header and some dark blue background!! *smile* Let's just say I am VERY frustrated with blogger and am disappointed in my header. As for the title I'll get in to that later.... I am running out the door now but will write more soon.

Hawkydog says HE has the best sandbox!

Paint Girl posted some adorable pics of her two dogs going nuts in the"biggest Australian Shepherd sandbox ever" (her new arena.) Hawkydog, never to be outdone, told me I had to post these shots of him going nuts on a stick in the biggest Australian Cattle Dog sand box ever (at the river).

Something tells me that Sadie, Bailey and Hawky would have one heck of a good romp if they ever got together:)

Drunken Behavior

(Finishing off the Lava Flow and already getting sassy)

I'm a drunk. A total slosh as a matter of fact. I have had (count them) 6 - SIX!!- whole drinks!! (in the past two months!) Which is about six more drinks than I usually have in a year. Good heavens! What has become of me! As a rule I don't drink. This being at least in part as a result of a total lack of ability to hold my alcohol. Where I come from that is not said as a point of pride. In fact, where I come from those who can refrain from drunk behavior after consuming copious amounts of alcohol are actually held in rather high regard. While those who cannot "hold their alcohol" are also appreciated in direct relation to how entertaining they are rendered by their drunken antics, such hilarity most often been had at the expense of said drunks self respect and personal safety.

I must say that as much as my family has been effected by alcoholism in the past, today my closest family members are all the best group of "drinkers" you've ever met in your life. They drink. They laugh. They laugh about drinking. They relentlessly poke fun at themselves, their spouse and their children (and in that order) but rarely, if ever (and never in most cases) have I ever seen any of them out of control, belligerent, puking, staggering, or exhibiting other symptoms of drunkenness gone to far. Jovially, responsibly, and mildly inebriated- that's how you'll find most of my family at the end of a get-together. And then there is me. The stone-cold-sober one who must endure their endless taunts, their teasing and endless attempts to peer pressure me in to having "just one". And should I give in I must endure their endless taunts, their teasing, and endless attempts to peer pressure me into having "just one more". And heaven help me if I show even the tinsiest hint that the first drink had any effect!

I can tell you, without a word of a lie that I have actually been drunk, (full out, over the limit drunk) less than handful of times in my life.... and one of those times just happened to have happened (accidentally mind you) in Maui... witnessed by my Aunt, sister and Mother, the three people who are least likely to ever let me live it down.

Everyone seemed to think it would be like sacrilege to leave Maui without having had a single drink and even I had to agree that was a little unreasonable. What better place to indulge than with a Blue Hawaii and a Poo-Poo (appetizer) on the lanai at Moose McGillycuddys watching a perfect Maui sunset over Kamaole Beach. A Blue Hawaii- Blue Curacoa, vodka, rum, pineapple juice rendered a most ominous looking color- that which would usually be reserved for porta-potties. FYI- nothing teal ever tasted good. Instinctively, like with other foul tasting things, I decided the best plan of attack would be to drink it as fast as possible as to clear the coaster for something that I could actually enjoy. So I did. And then, feeling fine, I ordered something called a Parrot Bay Lava Flow that tasted like the most delicious strawberry sundae you've ever had in your life. Never one to slowly savor something so scrumptious I promptly downed that glass too.

(Me, The Blue Hawaii, and my Mom)

Now, for some this might not have been a problem. Two drinks....two rather TALL drinks. Two drinks totaling far more than two ounces of alcohol and totaling far more alcohol than sufficient to get me drunk (consumed in no more than twenty minutes.)

And then I had to walk back to our condo.... which required I navigate some very steep stairs from the top floor of Moose McGillycuttyes.... Down a very uneven sidewalk.... In the dark..... In sandals..... With my Aunt, sister and Mom doing everything in their power to undermine by ability to look sober while optimising on the hilarity of my attempts to do so. At some point I asked "Is it normal for you legs to feel reeeeallly reeeeallly heavy? 'Cause my legs are like reeeeallly reeeeally heavy and it's like really not easy to walk. It feels as if I have fifteen pound weights strapped to my feet" I also redundantly stated "I think I'm drunk!" on just about as many occasions and I most adamantly stated, "I am not drunk!" Those two blocks to condo felt like a mile. My sister decided to stop at a little trinket shop along the way and my mom insisted I was swaying too precariously to be trusted near the display cases so I was left outside to stare fascinatedly at a yucca plant while they shopped. Finally we made it home. There I made scones because apparently I like to cook while drunk only I dont do it very well. My scones were later used like brick paper weights to anchor large objects from blowing away in the wind.

It was that long walk back to the condo that my Aunt imparted this most charitable advice "You must learn to sip, Chelsi. Sip your drink sloooowly." As sound as this advice may be, I think it better to just not drink at all. The teasing didnt stop when the drunkenness did. I had to endure weeks of being asked if my legs were feeling "heeeeavy" and everyone was told of the two drinks that did me in.

You'd think I'd learned my lesson but no! The night before last I once again gave in to their bad influence and was encouraged to drink two Palm Bays (that (note) come in a teal colored can!) Rather than succeeding in gaining a little respect amongst my new-found-drinking peers I was instead )and once again) the butt of the joke after I (innocently) observed that I couldn't possibly have "just one more" because "When I turned my head this way (looking left) and then turned my head that way (looking right) there appeared a lag in my vision." They found this quite humorous (you had to be there.)

The bottom line. I cant drink therefor I shouldnt. I do not drink. That is the rule and Mom, Fel and CC need to just accept that! Oh and another good rule to keep in mind is that any group of women who not only drink but actually LIKE Gin should not be trusted in matters pertaining to alcohol. Gin- the alcohol that is impossible to dilute into tasting like anything but hand sanitizer. Oh! And interestingly enough also appears in the Bombay Sapphire bottle as a (nearly) a porta-pottiesque color teal! Ah-ha! I told you!

Something tells me they wont quietly accept my pledge of reclaimed sobriety as easily as all that. But here's to hoping! *cheers*

Love the Horse, Hate the Industry

I just finished flipping through a local horse industry magazine and found that with every turn of the page my blood pressure rose a notch or two. I love horses but am so honest-to-god sick of the whole dang industry and the people behind it- the bogus products, my-way-is-the-only-way horse trainers, backyard breeders, nasty-ass stallions, bleeding hearts and hard cases. Is there animal cruelty in rodeo? Abso-freakin-lutely!! Is the use of whips, bits, and spurs abuse? Sometimes... mostly yes. Horse slaughter, FUGLY horses, back yard breeding, abuse in reining, horse racing, chuck wagon racing, eventing.... illegal bits, abusive training practises, rollkur, weighted shoeing, twitched tails. The ugliness of it all is universal.

Feed Alfalfa, dont feed alfalfa. Leave your halter on in the field, leave it off. Breed your nag, dont breed it. Barefoot or shod. Bits or brideless. Treeless or treed. Natural horsemanship or the Cowboy Way. Rescue or slaughter. I dont care. Or rather I do but I'm tired of the discussion going round with no end. WE ALL SUCK... or that the vast majority of us do. The riding, exploitation and abuse of horses will continue to exist because you can not regulate people out of their greed, ignorance or self-justification.

"What's In A Name?"

I have been having trouble coming up with a new name.

A few of the rejects....

"Adventures in Chelsi's Wonderland".... to fanciful
"Adventures with Chelsi"... to boring
"Messy Musings of a Melodramatic Mind"... ?....yah, that's what I said.
"Quest for the Big Girl Panties".... sounds kinky...
The Writter Who Cant Spell... somehow pathetic
"Spell A Yarn With Me" ... sound's like a knitting blog
"No Country for Little Girls"... just sounds creepy.
"Divine Secrets of the...".... oh who am I kidding.
"Diary of a Desperate Housewife, I mean Partner, (but not in a gay kinda way)"... just doesnt roll of the tongue.

There is more. And shockingly most of them are worse.

Seriously though, I'm working on it.

AOAHCM No More.

This week I've been thinking a lot about this second anniversary of Adventures of a Horse Crazed Mind. I've thought about how this blog has evolved and changed since I first began and how many wonderful people I've met along the way. Back in July of 2008 I had two horses that were apart of my daily life, one here at home, one in reining training.... both of which provided me with plenty of food for fodder for a horsey blog. But by the first week of 2009 I was horseless, for lack of better words, and have been since. I didn't plan it that way. Trust me. The best laid plans of mice and (wo)men....

Not having a horse at home didnt slow down the Horse Crazed aspect of this Horse Crazed Mind and so this blog hasnt completely given up on it's intended topic. Nonetheless, over the past year and half I've steadily broken the golden rule of blogging- I been writing a horse blog that very often has absolutely nothing to do with horses. It's only consistency has been a lack of consistency. AOAHCM is a mish-mash of topics....a sometimes diary, occasional confessional and a venue for the rare rant (or two) with some photos, opinion pieces and a few jokes thrown in for good measure. I've done basically everything they tell you not to do in order to make a blog "work". I didnt care because it worked for me and I loved it.

But at some point along the way I subconsciously stopped just writing whatever-the-hell I felt like and started trying to make this blog in to something that "you" would want to read and curtailed what I wanted to write about if I felt it wouldnt be of interest to others. My passion for blogging began to steady decline as I became increasingly caught up in being a part of the social underworld of bloggerdome *smile* and the expectation of being not just a blogger but a "blogger buddy".

At the beginning I didnt "get" that to blog was to be apart of a social network. But that was also back when I didnt "get" why anyone would want to read what some stranger did in their day. I didnt see that having blogger buddies meant that there was always someone willing and ready to offer their advice, support or just to commiserate. It took me a while to grasp how much we could all learn from each other and how wonderful it could be to be apart of a community filled with amazing people and knowledgeable fellow horseman and horse lovers. I didnt get that. Then I got it and I loved it. Now I value it (and you) but I feel like I cant blog without being a part of it. It now feels selfish (and a little evil) to blog without "giving back". And I feel like a total ass saying that I dont really want to read blogs anymore. I sincerely care that each and everyone of the people I've met along the way is safe, healthy, happy and that your loved ones, furry or otherwise, are healthy, happy and safe. I care about you as people, as human beings who have touched my life but I dont care to participate in blogging as a social community anymore. I honestly feel that everyone on my blog roll (and more) has something of value to say and they all have something to teach me but it takes time to read and comment and these days I want to spend that time on other areas of my life. It is as simple as that.

I have no idea if any of you care in the least whether or not I read your blog or comment... I wouldnt presume you care about this blog or me either. But there are people here in bloggerdome who have touched my life and I feel I owe them at least some explanation for my absence.

Yesterday I was listening to an interview of a really successful country music artist on the radio. He said that no matter if you have success in the pursuit of your passion (or not) you're level of passion for in his case, country music should be the same. No matter if you are selling out stadiums or singing on a street corner, your passion for the art should always be what motivates you and it shouldn't rise or fall with your success.

I want to live my life pursuing the things I am passionate about without every tainting the joy I get from those passions with the disappointment or hype of faltering or towering success and without compromising my expression of that passion to meet the expectations of those around me.

Wow! That's a mouthful!

So this blog is going to change. Change title, topic, and format. I wont start anew because what I've said in the past is still relevant to me. I am still horse crazed. I am still going to be writing about Abby, Hawkydog, life, love and hunky men (sorry DB). But I am probably going to swear (a lot) more (sorry Mom) and I might talk about sex (sorry Mom). And some posts will be long and rambling (like this one.) And probably not entertaining (like this one) but at least I'll enjoy writing my blog again.

Thanks to everyone to has every offered their thoughts and support to Adventures of a Horse Crazed Mind over the past two years. I really do appreciate everything you've done for me (and trust me, it's more than you'll ever know.) But I'm ready for a change.

Adventures of a Horse Crazed Mind's new name is...

Ok... so I dont have a new name yet *sheepish smile*

But I'm working on it.

My Sweet Boy

How can I possibly even begin to explain how much I love my dog without sounding like a total freak? If I talked about how he fills my days with joy... and how I can watch him all day long and never grow tired of his antics.... how much I adore his character, that deep and intense inner dialogue he wears clear as day on his face, in his expression and posture....

I just cant say how much. So I'll simply say...

I LOVE this dog.

My Thoughts on Turning 28...

Tomorrow is my B-day. For the first time in years I could care less. 28. Not much different than 27... still a few years short of 30. What I am excited about is continuing on with the year I've had. You see in 09 I had a really, really bad year. A year I've come to call my year of S.F.A. But this year has already been filled with adventures and a great amount of personal growth (as cheesy as that may sound). My goal for the 28th year of my life is to stay "Mauied". In Maui I learned to chill. To relax. To let the day come and unfold as it will. I finally let go of that ever-pressing need to figure it all out- work, school, relationships, career, home, life, friends, family, health, etc. I was lost under the weight of my indecision and overwhelmed with life. No more! I still have ambition, still have stress but I know that if I dont figure it out today the world isnt going to come to an end. I'll be okay.

What if I said, I just want to have fun?

The old Chelsi in my head screams, "Life isnt like that! It's all fun now but you'll pay later! You have to go to school, you have to get a career, you have to have a plan, you have to... you have to... you have to..."

To which the new Chelsi retorts, "Shut up."

Amen.

Why I shouldnt have photoshop...

Because after an hour of playing I turned this...

Into this...

If only I lived in the 80's, I could paint this in oil on to a black velvet canvas and I'd be a famous artist by now!

Dammit! If only acid wash, shoulder pads, perms and bad impressionistic art would come back in style I'd be set! ....

(Red carpet pictures taken in the year 2010!)

Whooop!

Looks like I'm in luck!

I am so sorry...

I am SOOO very sorry but I had to post it. The redneck in me just couldnt resist...