(no subject)
Must be, because I've totally forgotten how to type. Please forgive typos, which will be numerous; I will try to remain coherent.
I started galloping for the Halls in early March, taking the horses laps around the back pasture to get them fit before the season opened at ARP. We moved to the track in about the middle of May and races started in June. Our first starter won his first race this season. I was bouncing around the grandstands saying, "I gallop that horse! I gallop that horse!" Lots of gallops and lots of races since then. A two-year-old sent me over his head three times in one day. But all three times I held on to him, got back on, and have been the only one on him since then, and he's pretty much straightened out now. An older horse bucked me off, and I didn't hold on to him. I hopped up and he was looking at me. I kind of thought he was going to walk right up and let me catch him, but instead he waited until I was close, charged on by, and threw a kick at me for good measure. Ass hole. That day started a little bit of friction between me and the boss, because the horse is "no bronco." He later came within inches of bucking Monk the bronc rider himself off. *feels smug* I have since gotten off of salary. Freelance riders get paid by the head at lots of barns instead of a flat weekly rate for one outfit, and I think I'm making better money this way. It's definitely taken a lot of pressure off me. I had a nine horse day this morning, my best so far. The good riders for really good outfits are getting on 12 or 13, but I think I'd be spent after 10. I say that out of discouragment because I didn't eat my Wheaties this morning and nearly had a few runaways. I also held on to a few tough ones, too, so I guess I can't rag on myself too much. I'm doing very well. In fact, probably the best I've been since I was five years old and still thought the world was all sunshine and roses. Loving life.
Except for two things:
1)The cats poked holes in my air matress, so I've been sleeping on the floor of the tack room.
2)I still don't have a man in my life I can count on. And not likely to find one at the track, although there are plenty of places to find a piece of ass when such things become necessary.
But I'm on my way. Feeling more like a grown up than I ever have. I'll make a rider next year. Weight is not proving to be an issue for me thus far. I'm lean and I've got some guns and I'm eating better than I ever have; just working it all off. After this it's Kansas City for a month, then Turf Paradise all winter. I'm basically homeless but it's what I want. I'd like to get myself set up in a horse trailer with living quarters but that costs money. Everyone thinks I'm crazy for wanting to haul my saddle horse and her colt around with me. I probably will end up broke but I owe that mare too much to not even try. He was born early, by the way. Surprised the heck out of me going out to feed one morning at Gary's (an old friend of Dad's when rented a room in his basement to me for a short while before I decided he was too grouchy and the room was too basementy) She's now in boarding for the ungodly price of $300 a month (she looks like shit, by the way, but I'll be charged extra if I want them to grain her) while I stay in a track room in one of the barns rent free. I was in Monk and Lynda's barn, but I moved out yesterday because that spoiled cock-sucking little bitch groom they have working for them was just too much for me to get along with, and with four weeks of the season left it would simply not do for me to lose my liscence for knocking her dumb ass flat.
Meh. Other stuff, but I must change laundry loads and get back to the track. Late nights and early mornings make Chris a dull girl.