Boy oh Boy

So Ms. T has been getting herself all caught up in the web of love or like or whatever. Basically the web of a boy. Now, do boys know they weave these webs? This tangle of "do they really like ME or just the idea of me?" and "Will they buy the cow when the milk is not only free from me... but so many others... and isn't milk a bad analogy... it spoils... shouldn't it be honey. Yes, that's it. Why buy the bees when you get the honey for free?" I've found myself with this dilemma. This boy who I've always had a thing for... he's the orchid to my bee. I buzz and sometimes I get pollen and sometimes... well I get blown away. But he's my favorite flower right now. And as I watch Ms. T get caught in the stickiness of the peddles of her boy I have been forced to look at myself and wonder how stuck am I. What am I really getting from this flower that I have been unable to find in other flowers? Why the flower that half the time his peddles are closed or he's up and left town for a week or he's only visiting for two days with his other flower buddies (though never quite the same quality of flower).
Fuck... I'm confusing myself. But isn't that how it goes. I wonder how many blogs out there are girls batching... stressing... wondering about boys VS boys doing the same about girls. Aren't we meant to be the mysterious ones? Aren't we Eve leading men to their destruction? But why do I feel like boys will be the destruction of me?

Why I should not be aloud around cameras drunk

What's gross is you can see where I had done the face before on the glass next to me.

This is the space needle I mean opps the CN tower. I didn't go up it but hell Tasha took a picture of it for me.
Me painting on the open canvas
I painted the archy thing and Tasha did the blue dots!
Oh and she filled the square with blue... does she like blue???
We went to the shoe museum and got to try on shoes. These light up when you walk.
These where just cool!

Don't we make beautiful ballerinas!

Toronto

One of the things that tells you, you have a great friend and friendship, is when you haven't seen eachother for a year and it doesn't matter. For all I knew, well all I felt, I had seen Tasha a weekago. That was the vibe. There was no rush to see things, or do things together to be nestalgic (yeah we know I can't spell). I mean shit, we had four goals this weekend: go to the shoe musiem (fucking English), go shopping, make out with boys, and watch a stupid dance movie. All but the last was accomplished with a passion and vigor that only two great friends could have. I've been waiting to get pics to really tell the tail of Toronto, but Ms. T hasn't been feeling well, and is a bit tangled in life so I understand. But I thought there needed to be a mention of it. Plus the flying Stella pic was getting old as the first thing I saw.

SUPER STELLA

I wanted to try to add on a Super Man cape, but it was too much work for me. I know few who read this understand this picture but I think if you look back and look at the other pictures of me riding and this one, you should see that here she's trying REALLY hard. Her knees, that are normally paralle to the ground, here are angled upwards. Her nose, normally right between her knees, is between her hoofs. This is my amazing amazing horse.
For those who do understand, she started (rather I asked her to start) jumping about three or four feet farther away "normal" (two to three feet away). And to add to that distance this fence is an oxer, two rails, that are three and half to four feet apart. Add that up, and my horse had to have the tallest part of her arc be nine feet from where she took off. I'd draw a diagram but... really I think i'm just confusing even myself and I've been doing this for 20 years! The best part is she didn't even tought the rails! AMAZING!!! Here I'll just give you an other pic.

I SPUN I SPUN I SPUN. I just had to share. I spun all this with my creeky wheel (I can't seem to find my oil though I have a clear image of where it lived at my old apartment and where it should be... that and I haven't really looked. I suffered with the unlubed wheel). An hour and a half and a bit of a cramping calf later this is what I got done.

That's right. A frog on a rock. This was given to me by my father for a christmas, or birthday a few years ago. I redsicovered it while pulling my spinning wheel out of the cloest. The card that went with it said something along the lines of, "If you kiss it, maybe your prince will come." I know you all wish you could have my family!

Back in the Saddle

We all know I will never have to Litterally worry about leaving the "saddle" but this time I'm not talking horses. I'm talking the spinning saddle, the crafty saddle. In two days I leave to see the craftiest of them all, Ms. Tasha. Now, I "let it slip" the I have all this fiber I haven't used or even looked at in like two years. "BRING IT AND GIVE IT TO ME!" was the first words out of Tasha's mouth as I left this infromation out of my mouth.
I feel like I should talk about how Ms. T and I got started on this crafty path.
(Cue misty flash back sounds and wavy lines)
It all started back in the winter of 2001/2. Tasha said, why don't we learn how to knit. Okay, sounds good. Tasha and I had gone to the local craft shop, bought a book about knitting and some yarn and needles. Tasha found undiscovered ways to add stitches and made a pink trapizodal hot pad and I discovered the need to look at dye lots and made my ex boyfriend a two toned scarf. After some healthy competition we both learned and improved, Tasha buying knitting things are every garage sale she could.
"You want to learn how to spin? There is a spinning class back at the local yarn show and I rally want to take it." I'm sure there was some of the patentied Tasha whine after that but I'm not 100% sure. So, we took a spinning class, and like the knitting I grasped it a bit faster than Ms. T. Looking back at this we've realized that this was probibly a good things. Tasha's competative sprit came out and she became a better fiber person (?) than me.
2003 the day of shock and aww school was "optional". Teacher guessing most of the students at our liberal acts school would be protesting. Well, Tasha and I drove to the boonies of Oregon and found our selves some spinning wheels and more fiber than our brains could wrap around.
(Fade back into today)
So I was looking through all my fiber and thinking, hmmm what should I bring to Tasha and I found this.

"Hmmm, " I thought. "This is some beautiful wool... I think I'll spin it." (Sorry Tash). Now to spinn this I needed to empty some bobins. The first bobin just needed to be wound, of course I can't find my knity knoty (due to lack of use I bet it up and left to find a home where it would be loved), so I did my best to just winde it up. (I have pics but Blogger won't let it download)

Next I had to ply some wool that was already spun. I only had one bobins worth so I had to Navajo ply, something that isn't easy... but with a minimal amout of tangle and fuss I cleared that bobin as well. (Once again, no downloading).

So now, I was all set to spin (I'm a rather private spinner. Something about the dorkiness of the activity that makes me need to be comfotable with who views my spinning) and my roommate's mom, she staying here this week, shows up with some small child (grand kid?). So the beautiful red wool will have to wait... hmmm now I wonder if I have more wool to bring Tasha???

Reading

So I'm worried. I'm worried I read to much. I'm worried I use it as an excape. It's become my boob tube. I don't read books that are partucularly aww inspiring. I don't read much non-fiction unless you count the memear (so not spelled right). But this might not make sence, but this is my worry, that I read so much to make up for the lack of entertainment in my life. I'm not saying I sit on my ass all day, I do keep fairly busy with horses and kids and stuff but my two best friends live across the country. My friends here aren't nearly as close yet, though one is kind of, we're building it. I don't got "paint the town red". Hell, this Friday my roommate was going to go bowling at 10:30 and I was like, that's too late for me. I have to ride my horse tomorrow. Dude, I didn't ride until 2:30. So yeah I feel i'm hiding from my lame life in books. Should I be worried?

Oh yeah, I kicked ass on my "big" class on Thur. night. Like totally kicked ass. Rode so well I was almost crying tears of joy as I left the ring!

Cutest Cowgirl Ever

My God is she not this cutest picture ever. She even has the cutest pink cowboy boots, or are they cowgirl boots... Whatever. Still cute. She got her first hair cut today. Exciting!
I was wondering if it okay that I'm 25 and love nannying. I love taking care of kids. I love playing legos with them, drawing, playing games. I don't even mind getting kicked while having to unplug the TV. I leave these people's homes and I smile. I feel good. I mean it's great to feel satisfied by your job but at 25 should I love taking care of other people's kids... is that okay... is that right... is that "normal". I mean I know teaching is the right thing for me to be doing with my life, just maybe not right now, but is babysitting a "grown up" alternative?

April Fools (Four Months Late)

For April Fools I dyed my horse blue. Her show name is Deja Blue so it was a play on her name, and a reason to paint a white horse blue. Now, we also painted one of the kids ponies pink. Her grandma was in charge of pictures... It has taken this long for the pics to come into my possetions but here they are. My Deja BLUE.

BOYZ

I have a bad habbit and I don't know if it's me, or if it's a girl thing. But I let guys crawl into my head. I think about words they said over and over and wonder what it means. I think about actions or lack of actions and wonder what it meant. I do this until i'm blue in the face. I do this with my romantic friends point of view (who's phone in roming), my realist friends point of view, with my straight forward no regard for my feelings about it friend point of view. So that's right... I've had a boy find his way into my head (a date) and I've only hashed out with my straight forward friend and my head. So i'm freaking out. I'm doing the what if's, what did that mean, why did he do that, why didn't he do that, and over and over saying it's out of my control, the balls in his court. But here is just one of the things i've hashed over and over. This guy was eger to meet me "I hate waiting." So.. it's been two days and I haven't heard... and i'm thinking dude if he "can't wait" and here he is "waiting" what does that say. Is he doing the 3 day thing, or is he just "not that into me" according to the ONLY person i've been able to hash this all out with. This is why I hate dating. I hate this shit.

My replacement for issue G

So this is what I got to replace my spirl necklas that I wore everyday for the last 6 years. I thought it was a bit more of a grown up version.