Saturday, February 8, 2014

I might have horse issues...



Scratch that. I *know* I have issues.

I just realized why my friends think I'm strange (besides the obvious reason that I am actually strange) when we watch TV together.

My reaction when an attractive man comes on screen: "mm" (*small appreciative sound*) Possibly even a small 'ooh'.
My reaction when a pretty horse comes on screen: "OOOHHHH, look at you! Aren't you just gorgeous! Oof, you're lovely! Oh I want you. "

I'm not sure how many times it took of my outbursts before my female friends stopped rushing over to my computer screen when this happened, probably a few. I'd always get this *seriously?!* look from them afterwards. As if it were my fault.

Tisk Tisk.

The Boy knows me. We can be sitting around in bed and he'll be playing video games and I'll be surfing the internet or looking at horse pictures and we won't be paying much attention to one another. (We're low key and it's excellent.) Then I'll go: "OOOH! I want him! Give him here! You gorgeous thing!"
And The Boy will just keep playing and say: "You find a pretty horse?"
"Yes, and I want it!"
"I know dear, I know."
Or if it's a dull point in the game, he'll ask to see it. Smart man. There's nothing more attractive than a man who's interested in your horses.

Then again horse talk is how he lured me in in the first place. Well that and he made me food. I do so like food. But he took advantage of my weakness- I will spend hours talking about horses and my horse and answering questions. You showed interest in my horses? Why hello there! With anybody really. Even people I hate, which is annoying. But it's the surefire way to make me talkative and not reserved.

Even my professors remarked on my change when I was discussing horses. My voice gets louder, I stand up straighter and I stop sounding timid. Ask me a question about my thesis or the class discussion? Quiet, and brief. Ask me to do a lecture and presentation over my thesis? I talk too fast and trip over my tongue. Ask me questions about horse things during my thesis defense? Authoritative, clear, slow and capable of going on for great lengths of time.

Math? Boring, don't get it. Horse expense related math and cost benefit analysis? Done! Trajectory projections (from a bucking horse) easy! Percentages? Err, I have an app for that.
Science: human genetics? Dull. Equine genetics? Fascinating! Tell me more.

If you can relate it to horses, I have no problem retaining the information and understanding the topic. If you cant... my brain asks "Does this relate to horse things or would help me with horse things? No? Eh, dump it. We don't need it." This is really quite annoying but I just can't help myself.

I am indeed, horse crazy. Possibly also just crazy but we'll stick with the first one for now.

It's funny, I've dated some real jerks in the past. Controlling types. The kind that don't like you spending time with other people, especially men, or drinking, or going out, etc. Emotionally manipulative and damn moody. (Don't ask why I put up with it- I do not know. Current me would bitch slap them and tell them to shut up.) They tried doing ultimatums and emotional black mail, but not once did any of them utter the words: "It's me or the horse." Because although they were not clever men, they weren't stupid enough to think that they would ever like the answer to that. Even at my weakest I would have told them 'see ya' right on the spot. They did pull the 'you love your horse more than me!' thing. I just stared down at my tattoo of Sam and gave them a 'duh' look. Buddy, this horse has been here before you and he'll be there after you're gone.

Note, The Boy is NOT one of them. It's lovely. He also thinks my horse insanity is adorable... well, most of the time. Everyone complains that I spend more time with my horses than I do with them at one point or another. (It's true, I do.) To be fair, The Boy only complained once or twice and he was about to move 21 hours away in a few weeks.

I'm horse crazy. You date me, you date my horses. .... Err, Kind of. The point is that it's a package deal. And if you agree to help me clean them, take care of them, ride them with me or go to auctions with me, well then I'm hooked.

"Hey girl, can I help you groom and then hold while you trim the hooves of the new horse you got?" 

Although the down side is that he doesn't come in 'horse sized'. That's not a pony. 

That's him on the friesian cross. No, she wasn't a pony. 
 And those stirrups were as long as they go, and they're still too short. 
  
For a size comparison, here's me with The Boy. I am not a short woman. I'm somewhere between 5'6-5'7. He's just 6'3. 

Do you know how hard it is to find a horse for someone that sized?! Or how often I bring home a horse that's big enough (Moose might be) and is beginner safe? Not very often, so sadly I have been unable to make The Boy as horsey as I'd like. *sigh*


And if you find a boy who walks in on you cleaning your geldings sheath (with your arm all up in his you know where) smelling like nasty death and swearing, and they DON'T break up with you on the spot, and only laugh at you a little, KEEP THEM.


Oh god, why would you not use a glove?!!

If you find one that offers to help.... MARRY THEM. On the spot. Or check their closets for dead bodies, because that's suspiciously nice. (I hate sheath cleaning.)
This rambling post has been brought to you by meletonin and holyshitit'stwointhemorning.

3 comments:

  1. I remember very little that they taught about genetics in school, if they had just put it in context with black and sorrel and the role of the dilute gene I may have grown up to be a geneticist. Why can't everyone speak horse?

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    1. I'm glad I'm not the only one. When we were learning all about dominant genes and expressions I tried mapping out what possible colors my grulla mare's parents were. I knew one was a 'wolf/steel gray' but that was it. It was... interesting.

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