Hally Happoween!

Scratch that. Reverse it.

Happy Halloween, all! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once you showed me that life was worth living,But you never showed me that you’re worth forgiving.

Horses are Impossible!

Last Saturday, my friend Emma took me, Patti and another girl to a farm to help out with some horses, llamas, goats, chickens, ducks, horses, dogs, and two potbelly pigs. After that was all done, the owners of the farm allowed us to ride one of the kinder horses.

Kinder my FOOT.

In the beginning, we thought it was just the fact that we were in a tiny pen and not in an open space for the horse to start to move. She stubbornly stood by the gate to the circular pen, staring remorsefully out the bars. One of us had to brave entering the pen, dismounting our perches on top of the ten-foot-high fence to take the halter of the horse and lead it swiftly around the pen once or twice to get her going.

The first girl was incorrigible about riding the horse, which annoyed me to no end. As Patti, Emma and I watched wistfully from the top of the fence, she insisted on taking a ridiculously long amount of time getting the horse going; a good forty-five minutes. When she finally dismounted, looking pouty and upset, Emma took her turn. At that point, we decided that it would be best to attempt to release the horse in the open pasture to see if she would speed up, Emma atop her. After all, if she ran wild, we’d be able to hear Emma’s screams anywhere on the farm.

The horse was better outside, where she could run around. The problem was that she indeed ran around—where she wanted. This horse was massive and extremely difficult to control, giving the fact that the reins were not actually attached to a bit in her mouth but simply a halter around her face. Therefore, attempting to turn her sharply was like trying to make a dog mush with his lead.

When Emma had had her fill of horse, it was my turn. Finally my turn. After finally clamoring unceremoniously and maladroitly onto the horse’s back, I clicked my tongue and kicked her sides for a very long time. Finally, after tiny leetle Patti took the halter and gave her a push, the horse was off at a terrifyingly swift trot. She looped around the house…and stopped. I steered her around with difficulty, clicked my tongue and kicked a lot (it was the professional, horse-related version of a temper-tantrum) and she went back to her frightening fast speed, followed ludicrously by three much smaller, pink children. When we reached the pen, she stopped again.

I feel now I should note that this horse was very large (much larger than me) and there was a lack of bit in her mouth. In most cases with horses, when you gently tug the reins in the direction you wish the horse to go, it was willingly and excitingly comply, hoping to be rewarded by a treat of sorts. This horse, as impossible as she was, refused to move upon tiny commands; I was required to dramatically throw all my meager weight into the reins, nearly dethroning me from the saddle, in order to move her in the various directions I wished. Often, this did not work.

Indeed, this horse seemed to require an alarming amount of commands to merely turn around. I tried clicking my tongue while throwing my force into the reins, which got her head and most of her body to turn vaguely in the correct direction. Often, her massive head would move and nothing else, and then she would return to her previous position, staring out into lawn, wishing to eat the grass she was being stubbornly denied.

I’ll finish this when I get home from getting the necessary materials for my badass Halloween costume.
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Once you showed me that life was worth living,But you never showed me that you’re worth forgiving.

Hi, Olivia.

I luh u.

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Once you showed me that life was worth living,But you never showed me that you’re worth forgiving.

My mother is a pain.

Seriously. She's a pain sometimes. Worse than any stupid girl in my school, worse than my sister who has a habit of blowing up at me when she does something wrong, worse than all the stupid people in the world combined. Because she's an idiot. She pisses me off sometimes so much that I want to throw things at her.

Why?

Because she's stupid. That's why. She annoys the shit out of me sometimes. She'll tell me to do something, I do it, and then she shrieks at me like I just invaded China. What the hell, Mom, seriously. What the hell?

I don't hate her. I don't think she should go die. She's just an idiot who always has to be right and when she's not, she takes it out on her kids because she's too much of a child to cope with anything correctly. She's a child. That's all she is. It annoys me to death.

She also judges everything. Not that it's bad to judge something when you've told you children than you mustn't ever judge or anything *sarcasm*. She judges me, my friends, my writing and everything I do. And she isn't nice about telling me about stuff I do that she dislikes. She's a bitch, always telling me what I need to do and what I can't do anymore. I don't give a flying fuck about what she wants me to do in life.

She pisses me off. That is all.
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Once you showed me that life was worth living,But you never showed me that you’re worth forgiving.

Painting Skills. I has them.

Pfffffft---

Not really. But we're painting in art class. I'm pretty good at, like, drawing abstract things because...well, really, no one's BAD at drawing abstract things. If you are, you have failed epically at life and I can no longer be friends with you. *shun*

Where was I going with that? Oh yeah. Art class--painting abstract things. Well, we're painting Op Art, which is the kind of art that is a major mindscrew. Sometimes when I look at it, I think I'm high on...air? Computer screen-tainted air! But anyway, I'm good at it. I'm pretty good at designing it. Fairly. I'll upload a picture of the picture I painted just as soon as it comes back to me. And I must say it looks...like a xylophone gone HORRIBLY wrong. But maybe that's how I want it. Or not. I'm not sure. I just doodled it and my art teacher was like 'Oooh, I like that!'

So poof. I made the f*cked up xylophone-doodle my art project. That's cool, thought, because it's simple and easy to do and...and yeah. The only problem is this:

SOMEONE HERE CAN'T PAINT WORTH SHIT!

How do we remedy this? By using a REEEEAALLLLY little paintbrush and a really little amoun of paint and taking a lot of time to do it. Even though I'm *done* while some people have only just started...Shut up, I gave it a shot!

In other news. I cannot really draw people. This is truly the extent of my power down here. His name is Wonka. That is all.

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Once you showed me that life was worth living,But you never showed me that you’re worth forgiving.

VeggieTunes are good for the soul.

On the day that I turned eight I got my lips caught in a gate. My friends all laughed. And I just stood there until the fire department came and broke the lock with a crowbar and I had to spend the next six weeks in lip rehab with this kid named Oscar who got stung by a bee, right on the lips, and we couldn't even talk to each other until the fifth week because our lips were so swollen, and when he did start speaking he just spoke Polish and I only know like threewords in Polish except now I knew four because Oscar taught me the Polish word for lip. Woosta!

Your friends all laughed...Woosta. How do you spell that?

I don't know.

Shut up. Don't even doubt the healing powers of VeggieTunes.
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Once you showed me that life was worth living,But you never showed me that you’re worth forgiving.

Ugh.

And this isn't a rant. I guess it's not. Is it? I have no idea. That was kind of a rant. Sort of? Yes.

Ahem....

I don't remember what I was going to talk about.
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Once you showed me that life was worth living,But you never showed me that you’re worth forgiving.