It's more acceptable to spend the day like this when it's done in pairs.

Bless you!

So yesterday I spent a good portion of the day in an airport/on an airplane - first in Tahoe to fly to Dallas, then in Dallas to fly to Austin. It's crazy how even flights that are on time end up consuming an entire day. I guess losing 2 hours coming back east didn't help that either.

I'm sure I'm not alone here when I say that, when looking for a place to sit at the gate, I try to find a seat away from everybody else. Typically the scene you walk up to (if you're obsessively punctual like I am) is a row of seats connected together with one person in each row. If, God forbid, someone has to sit in a row facing another, that someone will sit on the end furthest away from the person they're facing. Once all the "four corners," so to speak, are filled up, people start sitting at least 2 seats away from each other until it's so full that you either (choke!) sit right next to another person, or you stand. Or, if you're my sister, you can take measures to prevent this from happening by setting your carry-on bag on the seat next to you. Problem solved.

I mean really, how intruded-upon would you feel if someone sat down in the seat right next to you if there were seats available farther away? I already feel like someone's getting a little too cozy when he/she sits next to me (you know, in his/her assigned seat) on the airplane. If the seat next to you happens to be empty for the flight it always feels like an unexpected little victory. Whip up that armrest baby! Cuz I'm gonna put my feet on this chair ALL. FLIGHT. LONG!

Anyway, with the great lengths we all go to to keep to ourselves and give each other enough space, you can imagine my surprise when, after sneezing mid-way through my Austin flight, three different people in different rows turned to say "bless you."

And really, the most surprising part is that it isn't that surprising at all. Isn't silence awkward after a sneeze? Last time I flew to Colorado most people walked right on by the old lady that fell at the end of the escalator, but dammit, we will all be blessed after we sneeze.

Hi there sweet baby.

Remember when you were a kid and you wore your [ballet tutu/soccer uniform/whatever] for a week straight? I'm doing that now with my new riding boots.

Except I'll be taking them off shortly because leather is painful before it's broken in.

The lady at the tack shop gave me an earful about caring for my boots and half-chaps and tack I don't even own yet. "When you start riding every day you'll need to do this and this before that and after this." Wait, what? I walked out of the store with a business card for the Central Texas Hunter Jumper Association feeling a little bit dazed and stressed about all of the work I had ahead of me.

No no. Nevermind. I'm taking lessons once or twice a week. I don't even have a leading rope or a brush to call my own. Stress: gone.

Why do people always expect all or nothing? In spring semester of 8th grade I asked my private lesson teacher for clarinet if I could switch my lesson day from Wednesdays to Tuesdays because I was going to be riding Monday/Wednesday/Friday. The next day during band class I had a letter sitting on my chair from her. She "really enjoyed teaching me" and "saw such potential in me," but she "could not continue our lessons if clarinet was not my top priority."

In retrospect, WHAT?!

I quit band after that year literally just to spite her.

I guess obsession loves company. Like when you are looking past the stomach ache to conquer that second round of cake/pie of the day, and your sister says "I'll do it if you do."

Something like that.

Happy trails. Don't fence me in. Snake in my boots. (Or something)

If any of you have talked to me in the past 6 months you know that I've been in serious need of a hobby/something-besides-work to do.

Idle hands are the devil's tools.

...But I guess that doesn't really apply here considering all I've done with a large majority of my idle time is watch TV and create random errands to waste time. Although sometimes I think those errands are from the devil, and I think my bank account would agree.

Errands. That word really puts a responsible spin on "shopping," doesn't it?

Anyway, the point is, I was always busy in school. If it wasn't with class/school itself, it was with clubs and friends and parties and who knows what. There was always something going on, and there was never enough time to do all of it. Then in the blink of an eye UT gave me the farewell boot, I went to the Seton administrative offices for orientation, had my hands blessed by a chaplain, stuck my purple thumbprint on a welcome posterboard, and the rest is history. On the days I work, that's all I do. Work, eat, shower, sleep. It's a long day - so much can happen in 12+ hours.

On the other hand, 3 days of nothing-but-work still leaves me with 4 days completely off of work. They usually aren't in a row, and they don't always include the weekends, but they're there somewhere.

And I've been bored. Really bored. What should I do when I'm at home and the rest of the world is at work? Join a gym? Find some volunteer work? Try a new sport? Try to jump back on the running bandwagon? Learn to freakin knit? Shop like I need more things?

Last night Emily told me her friend started taking tennis lessons for a while and enjoyed doing that, and something about that conversation brought up an obvious solution that I should have thought of sooner.

And, with that, I did some google searching, made some phone calls, and I'm officially going to start getting back into horseback riding lessons. I used to ride hunter/jumper in middle school and part of high school until I just got too busy to keep up with it. I wasn't big into competition and showing like some of the other people I rode with, nor was I some equestrian prodigy by any means, but I really loved it. I'm really excited to do it again. I'll have to start back with the basics, I'll probably even need help remembering how to tack up a horse, and this will probably make for some sore legs - (slash) arms, back, entire body - you'd be surprised - for a few weeks.

But man, I'm so excited.

To seal the deal after I spoke with the trainer I went out and got a general lesson helmet (for fear that my old one has a shelf life and would crumble into dust or something) and some boots and riding tights, and I've got some half-chaps and gloves at Mom's that should still fit. Word.

Dare I say I'm even excited to pick a horse's hooves?

(I'm sure that part won't last long)

So here we go people. I was bitten by the puppy bug a year or so ago, and I have a feeling this is going to be much, much worse.

It's been a long time since I've felt like myself. It's a weird thing, especially on what is quickly becoming a long-term basis. If you aren't yourself, who the heck are you?

Is this part of the "real" world everyone speaks of? I think I must prefer my fake world or whatever it was I lived in before.

Just sayin'.

You can imagine my excitement last week when I realized I already had all the ingredients to make brownies. All of them! Half a bag of chocolate chips in my pantry?! My eggs weren't broken or expired?! Emily's coming over for dinner later?! Let's do this thing.

If you're messy like I am, make your counter mess-proof. I like to wrap up my mess in wax paper and throw it away at the end.

Feel good about yourself by eating an apple in hopes that you won't eat all the batter.

A bowl pretending to be a double boiler. Boil some water, put a heat-proof bowl on top, and melt the chocolate chips with the butter. Stir a lot - chocolate burns. The non-stir-ability of doing this in the microwave is what keeps me doing it on the stove-top.

Hellooooo chocolate-y goodness. Feel free to eat it now before the salmonella issue comes up in a few steps.

Stir in the sugar once the chocolate and butter are melted and smooth.

Get your eggs and your vanilla, then pause wondering if the heat in the chocolate mixture is going to accidentally cook your eggs. Mix up your dry ingredients while you wonder. Don't take a picture of it because no one cares about white powder in a white bowl.

Decide you've waited long enough, and stir in the (lightly beaten) eggs and vanilla. Switch to a whisk after you realize the wooden spoon isn't doing the trick. Wish you would have done it in a bigger bowl. Be happy you didn't slosh it everywhere during the mixing process.

Add the wet stuff to the dry stuff. Switch to a spatula so you can scrape up all the dry stuff on the bottom.

Pour it into your prepared 8x8 with the bottom already greased. Go to put it in the oven (at 325), then put it back on the counter for a picture. Put it this close to the edge of the counter because you like to live dangerously.

Be annoyed that this took three stirring utensils. Wait 26ish minutes.

Resist.

They cut prettier when they're cool, and you want them pretty when people (in my case, just one) come over later.

Why yes, two of us DO need an entire pan of brownies. What of it?

I hate brownie edges, so I eliminated them.

Blurry picture, delicious brownies.

For this occasion, I found and used this recipe. For a special occasion, I have a brownie recipe that might kill you. No need to risk death on a random Thursday, but maybe next time.