Hectic and sad. And happy. And exciting with anticipation.
Friday night my old horse died. She was 36 and was just too old and arthritic--she laid down like she always does, but couldn't get back up. I'd seen that once before in another dying horse. We had a neighbor come over and shoot her (I couldn't bear to, really, even though I kept telling everyone I would).
Horses don't die like in the movies when you shoot them. It was horrifying. Horrifying. Absolutely terrible.
The next morning I had the funeral of one of my favorite great aunts. She had gotten Lou Gehrig's Disease and was just wasted away to nothing. I'd cried so much the night before that I could only shed a tear or two.
That evening, it was time for a wedding. I just forced the previous 20 hours out of my mind, literally shutting my memory off for that time period. The wedding was great too--a couple kids I knew from high school that were just destined from day 1 to get married. One of those puppy loves that actually worked. I invited the bride and groom to come see Slipknot with me this weekend. Then I invited the groom's brother-in-law and sister to come with too. I love us small-town "rebels."
Fuck you, Kenny Chesney!
Sunday was a day off. I'd gotten drunk the night before and completed the Holy Eucharist twice at the funeral and wedding, so I decided church was overrated. A delicious pork chop (I can stand swine just because they're tasty) made for a good lunch, but the rest of the day was sitting and healing.
This weekend should be fun. My 25th b-day is a week from today, so I'm going to Ames to have fun. A Friday night of having fun (and hopefully looking up a certain young lady), followed by a Slipknot/Lamb of God concert Saturday ought to do the trick.
I need it. I need excitement of a good kind after last weekend. No rollercoaster of grief and pain and joy. Just alcohol and rock.
ima fukkin luvit
Friday night my old horse died. She was 36 and was just too old and arthritic--she laid down like she always does, but couldn't get back up. I'd seen that once before in another dying horse. We had a neighbor come over and shoot her (I couldn't bear to, really, even though I kept telling everyone I would).
Horses don't die like in the movies when you shoot them. It was horrifying. Horrifying. Absolutely terrible.
The next morning I had the funeral of one of my favorite great aunts. She had gotten Lou Gehrig's Disease and was just wasted away to nothing. I'd cried so much the night before that I could only shed a tear or two.
That evening, it was time for a wedding. I just forced the previous 20 hours out of my mind, literally shutting my memory off for that time period. The wedding was great too--a couple kids I knew from high school that were just destined from day 1 to get married. One of those puppy loves that actually worked. I invited the bride and groom to come see Slipknot with me this weekend. Then I invited the groom's brother-in-law and sister to come with too. I love us small-town "rebels."
Fuck you, Kenny Chesney!
Sunday was a day off. I'd gotten drunk the night before and completed the Holy Eucharist twice at the funeral and wedding, so I decided church was overrated. A delicious pork chop (I can stand swine just because they're tasty) made for a good lunch, but the rest of the day was sitting and healing.
This weekend should be fun. My 25th b-day is a week from today, so I'm going to Ames to have fun. A Friday night of having fun (and hopefully looking up a certain young lady), followed by a Slipknot/Lamb of God concert Saturday ought to do the trick.
I need it. I need excitement of a good kind after last weekend. No rollercoaster of grief and pain and joy. Just alcohol and rock.
ima fukkin luvit
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