out of sorts... and it's your fault.

i'm wallowing in a fit of blahs... which usually means anti-social grouch. Or at least on the inside since it's rare that I snarl at someone else unless their name is mike solomon. hi mike! i know you'll love that i dropped your name on a blog you'll never read. Oh! hey, that was grouchy. there you go. i am currently obsessed wtih this song. it's so over the top but applicable.

He Poos Clouds - by Final Fantasy
Lazy, you lazy poet, your words are reckless, and I can't feel it
But hey, hey, all the boys I have ever loved have been digital
I've been a guest, on a screen, or in a book!
I move 'em with my thumbs, I move them with my thumbs
I write his name in nothing, he whispers to the author
That I will be the only one

Escape! Escape! This time, for real!
We fool around in the service lane
He's the only friend I have who doesn't do cocaine
And all the boys I have ever loved have been confidential
Had a broken home, or a seedy past
So I know it's gonna last
And move him with your thumbs, I move him with my thumbs
He needs, he needs my guidance, he needs, he needs my time
Though I am not the only one

He swam! To the edge of the wall of the world!
Followed my voice, and he cried
Master! The answer is maybe... Maybe not... Maybe not...
Maybe not! I have goals!
Gotta fulfill the seven prophecies!
Gotta be a friend to grandmother!
Gotta rescue Michael from the White Witch!
Gotta find and kill my shadow self
Gotta dig up every secret seashell
You may have been made for love...
But I'm just made.

....

we had managed to bullshit the lady at the horse farm into letting us do a trail ride without any supervision. i had enough lingo down to compensate for being a mediocre at best rider. what i lack in experience i make up in blunt optimism that nothing bad'll happen. i almost forgot to secure my saddle before trying to haul myself up. that would have been awkward.
my initial nerves about riding a horse flap away the minute my hand wraps around the horn and i toss my hefty ass up and onto the saddle. it was my guilty pleasure when riding to shimmy into the curve of the saddle for the first time. that purr-inspiring minute where you stretch out your legs and loll back and fourth to feel settled.
the trail horses could have done the trip on auto pilot but i still held the reins like i was a needed part of the process. nope, just a parasite sitting up and smiling at the open space and knowing that we had 60 minutes before even needing to turn the horses around. i'm going to be so bowlegged i won't be able to bend over to pick up a nickle after this...
i tried to enjoy myself and not fixate on the thought of looking like an ass in front of Magda who was pushing a head without a thought of what i was up for. my pride squeezed boots into flank and we took off to catch up. probably didn't breathe in once until we caught up. what a charlatan country boy. while i spoke in rich pastoral myths when thinking about where i grew up, i was still shakey to the core over some things.