City Slickers

Over Christmas, my aunt kept talk about this girls horse round-up trip that she was going on. She was trying to convince my sister and I to go, and maybe even my mom. Tales of previous trips of hers, her saddle bags full of beer in place of food and clothes...

I've been riding exactly once in the last...oh...decade. While I don't think (...?) I embarrassed myself, rusty would probably be an understatement. Pretty sure that spending even ONE day on a horse, let alone 4 days, would render me immobile and barren.

PLUS, this place is making you PAY to work for them! Which is total crap. And genius.

But then I thought about it.

And listened when my dad said, "You're going, RIGHT?! You CAN'T pass this up".

Ok, I'd consider it.

But ONLY if my grandpa's lady friend would let me ride at her ranch up until the trip, so I can maybe get a little bit of my groove back and not have my ass actually fall off.

She said of course. She'd be glad to help.

Welp, looks like I'm in. And probably my sister, too.

I'm pretty stoked about riding again, I'm not gonna lie. It was something that I absolutely loved growing up. Having the opportunity to ride with my grandpa again will also be pretty awesome.

But if he get's thrown again and busts his ribs and rips open his elbow, like he did a few months ago, I'll probably barf and pass out while continuing to barf. Don't ride the blind, deaf, scared to death horse that flipped out when you got it because it couldnt see you again, FRATA. God. (side story-I saw him the next day and he could barely move and he got all pissed that I "ratted him out" when I told my mom. Men...)


Naturally, I ran directly to Boot Barn and got myself a shiny new pair of kicks, picked with the direction of my aunt. New adventures = all the new things.  

This has the potential to be a totally shit show.

Can't wait.