My day was pretty much normal. Went to Publix at lunch to pick up some personal stuff. Why the hell are razor blades so expensive? What exactly is it about these plastic encased shards of metal. Six bucks for a box of 8? It’s not like a jeweler has to set them. Oh, nevermind, I just realized, mine have that special lubricating bar on them. I forgot about that. That explains it. What is that, teflon? Have I mentioned that I invented teflon? Oh yeah. It’s in my bio somewhere.
Just one personal note for women today. If your husband/boyfriend/partner is watching the late innings of a tied ballgame and the bases are loaded with one out, and the pitcher he just traded for on his fantasy baseball team stands to get the win with a mere single, there is a strong possibility that your words may fall on deaf ears. I think you should know this ahead of time. It’s no reflection on you, we don’t think you’re unimportant, we don’t love you any less and we’re not trying to be disrespectful. It’s just the way God made us. It’s like trying to get the attention of your dog when your child is walking through the house with a sandwich. It just can’t happen.
Recently I gave in to my girlfriends prodding to get my hair highlighted. I’ve always liked that look, but I’ve been afraid that my age was more condusive to Grecian Formula than highlighting. Anyway, I had it done as an experiment and here’s what I learned. Men hate it, women like it, kids love it. The most passionate response has come from men though. “Dude, you been surfing?”, “Trying to look younger?”, “Hit by lightning?”, and “Did you join a boy band?” were some of the male comments. I smiled and returned the banter, but you know what, in most cases I could have responded “Yeah, you should try it on your gray.” or “When you still have hair, you can do things like this.” But I didn’t…
Wow, what a great weekend here in Georgia. Sunday I went horseback riding on Boomer in Dawson Forest, less than an hour north of Atlanta. On Saturday though, it was Sir Jay day.
The poor guy is going through a lot. He’s a very young Thoroughbred who doesn’t seem to know how horses are supposed to act. In fact, he’s more like a big lanky dog then a TB racehorse. When you call him from the pasture, half the time he will run to you and slam on the brakes at the last minute. It’s a huge thrill to see an animal that big so excited to see you. Sunday, when I called the horses and Jay began running, my Quarter Horse Boomer started running too but then he stopped and started looking around like he didn’t want any of the other horses to see him running like a 5 year-old TB. How embarrassing would that be? I’d hate for him to have to stand around the hay bails with his Quarter Horse buddies while they harass him about running through the pasture to see his human. Continue reading “Sir Jay Day”