Ten Useless Facts

Things I learned today instead of Physiology:

Useless Fact #1: There’s a guy in the Music Lounge, and his parents are, like, totally f***ing going, like, out of town for three whole f***ing weeks? And that’s totally f***ing awesome. Three whole f***ing weeks. He is SO going to have the biggest f***ing party.
Note: I was invited to the party because I couldn’t stop staring at said guy, and I believe that he misinterpreted my interest. I was starting at him because he had the weirdest beard. It was two parallel lines of a beard, about an inch apart, following his jawline and leading up to his goatee. I couldn’t figure out how he managed to create it… If he shaves, how does he manage to make the lines so straight? Does he wax? If he does wax, does he tell his friends? “Gee, Bob, I’d love to get together and get drunk tonight and ogle women, but I’ve got a waxing appointment at the local salon, and my skin will be all red and sensitive.”

Useless Fact #2: I am not alone. There are other terrible students out there in the world, who are just as scattered as I am, and they appear to be succeeding. I have hope! No, seriously, for those of you who know me…. look! I found my twin sister! Check it out:

Mood Swings in Med School

Useless Fact #3: My left arm has a wrinkle on the forearm, but my right arm does not. Strange.

Useless Fact #4: I now, officially, have two grey hairs. I am twenty-five, after all. My first grey hair came in when I was 22. I named it after my ex-boyfriend. I’m not sure who I blame this hair on. Maybe I can name it Miss Fussy, the Fidgety Finance Follicle? I need money.

Useless Fact #5: Nobody gave me a million dollars over the weekend. I checked my bank account. It’s still near empty. Darnit.

Useless fact #6: The music lounge is one of the only places on campus that has comfortable chairs to sprawl on. Unfortunately, the music lounge’s definition of what is “music” and my definition of what is music really differ. I learned today that the music lounge actually caters to the student’s desires, when several people near me squealed in excitement when their “favorite” song came on… (it sounded exactly like the four hundred other pulsating rap songs that they’d played). The highlight of my afternoon came about the time the group of girls began laughing and singing along to the following lyrics (this is the stanza I purposefully set to memory):

I don’ want you ’round me no mo
Get away from me b****
I don’t want yo’ (crude reference to the female anatomy) no mo’
F*** you, b****

Oh, yeah, that’s MY favorite song, too. Weirdos.

Useless Fact #7: No matter how hard I try, I can’t move my pinky toe. On either foot. But I can spread my left big toe a little further than my right big toe.

Useless Fact #8: If I squeeze my calf, I can see cellulite underneath the skin. Great. Now the cellulite has moved from my heiny, down my thighs, and is invading my lower legs.

Useless Fact #9: There are a lot of time-consuming, really interesting blogs out there in the world. It’s much more fun reading other people’s blogs than actually living my own life.

Useless Fact #10: After completely WASTING your study time by screwing around and doing everything but studying, when you board the bus to go home you should dig around fruitlessly in your pocket for your misplaced bus fare. If you dig long enough, random strangers on the bus will pay your bus fare, because you’re such a hard-working, industrious little student.
Note: It’s important to be holding your big, heavy bags of schoolbooks. They make you look important, and studious.


I’m back in the saddle again!

Okay, I’m not QUITE back in the saddle, but I’m getting close.

As many of you know, I had to sell The Idiot (aka: Jubilee, my ex-racehorse Thoroughbred) in order to return to school. I’m not saying that I’m happy that I did it, but it was a necessary evil. Since that time, I’ve learned an interesting fact about myself. Apparently, I am not an inherently nice person. It was really quite a shock for me to discover that, without a steady supply of horses in my life, I am actually fretful, occasionally annoying, and sometimes downright witchy. The precious few times that I’ve been able to be around my money-eating four-legged friends since I sold Jubilee, well… I SWEAR that I can feel my blood pressure drop the instant I can smell that beautiful stables aroma. I miss them. I miss everything about horses. I feel like horses are some sort of necessary catalyst that helps me get through my day—that without them I don’t feel quite right. Don’t get me wrong— I’m no genius when it comes to horses. I’m not that knowledgeable, and I’m noisy, and jumpy, and when I ride flop around in the saddle like a fish. Still. I love horses. I love the way they look, the way they move, the way they stomp their feet to get rid of flies….. I love the way the sheen on their coat glows rainbow beneath the sun, and the way they seem to float over the ground when they are startled into a trot, and the comforting sound of them grinding their food…. And I LOVE their smell.

Come on, you horse lovers know what I’m talking about… There is no better scent on earth than the smell of horses. You have that rich, earthy scent of their sweat mixed with the deeper smell of leather…fragrantly infused with the sweet delicacy of alfalfa….

Gah. I sound like a perfume commercial. Eau de Horses. By Clinique. Still, even though I’m waxing eloquent, you do have to admit that the smell of the stables is something irreplaceable. It’s more than a beautiful scent. It’s narcotic, and addictive. Dangitall! Why can’t I be this excited about guinea pigs, or something affordable??? No, I’ve got it bad for horses, which is why the lack of equines in my life has been such a hardship for me. When it gets bad enough, I go over to Bakersfield and visit some of my horsey friends. I laugh about it, and tell them that I’m “jonesing” for horses (for you non-street slang people out there, “jonesing” is slang for the symptoms of withdrawl that a chemically dependent person exhibits when they’re deprived of their drug of choice.)

So, now that you’re all up-to-date on your popular slang, we can continue with my story. Anyhow, lately, I have been SERIOUSLY jonesing for some equine looooove. Thankfully, it seems like this may be one of those times in life when everything comes together.

My friend, Tammy, has too many horses. I know it seems impossible for there to be such a thing as too many horses, but in this case, I do have to agree with her. When her daughter was about eight years old Tammy decided that it was time for her daughter to be introduced to horses. They bought a sweet little paint mare who they believed to be sound, and pregnancy-free.

Neither ended up being true. A couple of months later Kitty was born (Twisted Kitty is her registered name). Kitty is one of those horses you either love or hate, and thankfully, Tammy and her daughter both loved her. They loved her enough, in fact, that when Kitty was about four years old, they bred her to a local paint stud, and out popped Twistin’ (who I happen to think is one of the most insanely beautiful mares on the planet.) Since they had a horse for the mom, and a horse for the daughter, they bred Kitty again to get a “husband horse”, and out came Whiskey, the most laid-back gelding to ever exist. Twistin’ was bred when she hit four years old, and she also threw one of the coolest fillies I’ve ever seen.

Since I don’t have any picture of any of the other horses right now, here’s a picture of the little filly’s sire, RR Risky Rebel:

So, there’s Tammy with four very incredible horses. I mean, I’m not much into paints (don’t hate me, don’t hate me!) but Tammy’s horses all greyed out, and almost all of them have blue eyes… and call me shallow, but a grey horse with blue eyes is a VERY striking combination. Combine that with the fact that they all actually have brains (a trait I have a lot of appreciation for, after dealing with my off-the-track thoroughbred), and you have a family of horses that are pretty darn incredible.

Here’s where the plot thickens. Tammy was offered one of those once-in-a-lifetime deals, and was able to pick up a small herd of incredible horses for DIRT cheap. The herd consisted of six two year old mares, and one two-year-old stallion. Again, I’m not much into pedigrees or anything like that, but they’re Foundation Quarter horses, straight from Joe Hancock (Hancock horses are known for their strength, intelligence, and working ability…Oh, and also for their bucking ability, although Tammy’s horses seem to have thankfully escaped that trait.) Needless to say, when introduced to the cutting world, the horses took to it like they’d been bred for it—which they had.

So, there’s Tammy, one person, with more horses at one time than most people acquire in a lifetime. She really tried to make it happen, but she finally had to come to a decision: Should she stick with her cutters, or should she stick with her paints?

Considering that paint horses are usually entered into contests for points and ribbons, and that cutting horses are usually entered into contests with $50,000 purses… well….

Enter ME! Horses sell for a LOT more down here in Orange County than they do in Bakersfield. So Tammy and I came up with a little scheme— Through me, Tammy’s going to rent a stall down here in Orange County. In exchange for a small commission, I will sell the horses for her, while she pays for their room and board. That’s right. I’m about to become a Genuine Horse Dealer! I don’t really like selling horses, but for the sake of actually being around them again, I’ll learn how to deal with them. It’ll be a little hard, because I don’t really want her horses to sell. I’ve spent too much time with them, and I’m honestly pretty darn attached to them. Besides, I have more on my plate than I feel like I can sanely handle at the moment, between school, crew, and all of the little things that life continually pops up. But I’d be lying if I said I was entirely happy with my life at the moment, and even if I should be wise and avoid taking on this responsibility… I miss horses too much to be wise. So, here I go again!