Crazy Dressage Interpretations

Well, people who have been following since my first post (if any of you exist), you should know that I switched horses fairly recently so I could do a sport I love: eventing. This consists of jumping, cross country, and dressage. Gambit, my horse, however, prefers the jumping and cross country part of it much better. That's not to say I don't either (I definitely like jumping better, I mean, who gets adrenaline from making your horse bounce and do unnatural movements, sitting, and smiling and pretending that you are doing what you should be doing? I don't! But it's necessary, so whatever), but dressage is definitely a main part of eventing.

After today's lesson, I realized dressage was going to be much harder than everyone originally planned. Yes, Gambit is very good at looking pretty, and is fairly good at listening to instructions but he hasn't mastered these things called leads, and so that means no matter how good we look, dressage will be impossible. Well maybe not impossible, but the art form we would be doing would not be called dressage, but more like let's-prance-around-the-arena-and-scare-the-crap-out-of-my-rider-and-make-her-cry-because-I-wanted-to-eat-those-flowers-instead-of-trot-from-k-through-x-to-m. Yes, I'm not over exaggerating. I also would go into much more explanation, but I would bore my few readers of this blog away from this URL for unhappily ever after.

Back to riding, if I were to go into competition right now for dressage, my test would look like this:

This is not what a dressage test should look like.

Well what happened today in the lesson? It wasn't a bad lesson, but I definitely wasn't a star today. Let's say we were supposed to be cantering in a circle, a 30m circle, and picture this: A teenage girl on a huge black horse racing all over the 200m riding ring, speeding around on the wrong lead, changing directions every few seconds, and the trainer telling the poor teenage girl to calmly to toggle her reigns, sit back, think slow thoughts, breathe, and think what she wanted to look like. Ladies and gentlemen, Pauline and Gambit. Yes, because these are things humans love to do when speeding around crazily on an ex racehorse.

Who here knows what dressage is supposed to look like?

I promise, I really can ride, I'll start posting videos soon when I actually remember my video camera has a working battery and can take videos. Well in the meantime, if any of my readers (like five or ten of you) are actually riders, here's a short survival guide about how to relax and have a dressage test go well. Go riding!

I Can Breathe through Squeaky Reeds

 I didn't end up jumping out of a window before the concert, no car crashes, I actually survived the concert. But barely. You know how for a saxophone, clarinet, or some instrument like that, there are these reeds that you put on the mouthpiece so that when you blow into it, it makes a sound. Well when those reeds break or are dry, they squeak. And guess what happened when my part was featured and when I had a solo? My reed dried out. So "SQUUUEEEEEAAAAKKKKK" was a common sound heard during that song. After my reed failed in me and I was totally humiliated, there was still applause as to say, "Ladies and gentlemen, Song for My Father featuring Pauline and the squeaky, uncooperative reed!"

"Yes, thank you, because I'm not already embarrassed enough without the pity clap..."

Well it wasn't that bad, I worked through it, and I did have some pretty good note choices. I just had some major technical difficulties... But afterwards we went to Cold Stone and got ice creams and smoothies. The best part is, like half of the jazz band was there. It was like an after party! While the poor ladies wanted to close up shop, all of us band geeks were talking together.

And the best part of this is?! I got to go to the barn today! And let me tell you, that helped me so much. Funny how spending time with four-legged creatures that weigh ten times as much as you helps. That is my definition of therapy.

But guess what? It's almost Halloween! My (wait a moment.... first, second, third, oh I got it!) fourth favorite holiday of the year! Well I will go more elaborately into this in a later blog post! See you around!

To Do or Not to Be

Well you are probably thinking, "Now that ain't right." And no it ain't. Okay, I'm done with the bad grammar. Well to do or not to be, that is the real question. Back to my little issue, music or horses? Well, I'm still figuring it out, but I haven't had a horseback lesson in now three weeks. That's awful for me. Think of something you really love. Reading, video games, art, sports, chasing children, whatever makes you happy. Now think about not doing that for THREE WEEKS. Or for any of you music people out there, imagine not going to band or a lesson for three weeks. Well now you feel like me.

I'm shaking out of my own skin, wanting to have a dinosaur step on anything that comes in my way of the barn, etc. Oh and look, what conflicts with the barn? Music. Hey look, I like music. Wow, this is just dandy. I have two band concerts, two weeks in a row, ON THE SAME DAY I'M SUPPOSED TO GO TO THE BARN! So now, the question, to do or not to be? Or to be and not to do? I'm either going to do band and music lessons, and not be at the barn. Or, I will be at the barn and not do band.

Well the answer ended up being to do and not to be. I'm going to the concerts. I love music. I love band, most of my friends in school are from band, and my grade depends on it. So music ends up being my Wednesday plan for the next two weeks.

I have a solo at my jazz concert (if you go to this link, they might have videos of the concert) tonight (which I am planning on jumping out a window before so I can have a reasonable excuse not to go). I'm terrified. The only other times I soloed in front of everyone was the last jazz concert. Most people you would expect a solo to be like "Ba da ba da ba da ba da ba doo waat. De be da bah da doowat-doowat doo ba da doo wah-daht," and so on. But I was like "Garble de farble de doowat garble, squeak, breathe, garble dee," and so on.

The irony is, I'm much more comfortable on a horse that ways at least ten times as much as I do, jumping over things that are 1/2 to 3/4 my height, speeding 25 mph towards a gate and doing everything I can to not slam into it, than I am standing up, playing about a minute of improvised music to people, and sitting back down.

This is 2 feet six inches...  Back when I used to go to the barn..

Don't get me wrong, I love, love, LOVE music and jazz, but it's easier to listen to it than it is to play. I just scare myself by inadvertently comparing myself to people way better than me in music. On horseback, people dare to compare to me. 

What's Worse than Bio Class? (Beware of TMI)

What's worse than sitting through bio class, listening to your teacher drone on about stuff, repeat the unnecessary things, miss the useful information, sharing looks of pure misery with your class mates, and waiting for the clock to reach 9:03? Missing bio class. Let me tell you, it's not just biology. Every class is hard to make up, but especially biology, because who wants to come in after school to make up a lab assignment all by themselves with your teacher telling you it's on canvas? NO ONE. And this is exactly what I am going to have to do. I have been sick for three weeks in a row, and not just a wimpy little cold. Like full on asthma, huge cough attacks, sinus infections, and toilet hugging. That has been my hobby the last three weeks. Delightful, huh?

I've been in and out of school like every two days, and this was the last day of school before the break. And hey, I get to worry about making up class all over my four day weekend. Oh and being sick and missing even more horseback riding lessons. So this weekend that I have been desperately needing and looking forward to, I will be getting to know my toilet. I love this.

Well, even how awful this was, I got to sleep in until 10:30 this morning. That never happens. Normally I'm up, rushing around, throwing on makeup, shoveling food into my mouth, accidentally swallowing toothpaste, grabbing my backpack and three instruments, and rushing out the door, sprinting back in, grabbing my phone, and darting out the door again once 5:30 am starts. Now that I've had a relaxing morning (well as relaxing as nausea lets you get), I have now gone through three episodes of Sherlock, cleaned my room, painted my nails (which did not make my stomach feel any better--tip, never paint your nails when you are sick), and updated my blog.

Sherlock and blue nail polish

One would think that you could be able to sleep when you are sick, but I'm not that type of person (which is probably why I am still sick after three weeks). Thanks to this thing known as an internal clock and this other thing called school, there's no such thing as, "Hey! You're sick, so take a day off and get better!" It's more like, "Hey, you're sick, and I don't care, you have three excused absences a quarter!" For all us overachievers out there, this means, "Hey! You're sick, but since all three of those absences are used up, how about you come back to school and don't get better and get the rest of our beloved children sick! Yaayyy!!" But hey, my nails are blue, my room is clean, my mind is full of very happy images (thanks a lot Sherlock), and I get a five day weekend!

Oh, where are you John, I've missed you.

A Closing of the Dewey Chapter

I've been riding this horse named Dewey the whole year and we made a pretty good team. That's not to say there weren't the ups and downs. Dewey was a paint horse, but he didn't have spots. That meant the gene skipped him. He was silly, quirky, a little bit rotten, and very naughty. Despite this, I loved him. He went back yesterday. Of course, there was the emotional roller coaster. It's saying good bye to a best friend, to a teammate. On a tangent, horseback riding is a sport. It is very much a sport. And the horse is your teammate. We can communicate with them, very differently than you would communicate with a person, and that's what makes riding flow like magic.

Last lesson with Dewey, he's side stepping in this photo.

Back to Dewey, it was sad to see him go. I had been working with him for a full year, but I decided it wasn't going to work anymore. The rotten little horse that I came to love, did the wrong sport. He is a western pleasure horse. It's not his fault, and I tried for six straight months to fall in love with the sport, but it wasn't my thing. Just for a quick explanation for what western pleasure is, it's when you put a huge honking saddle on a horse (a western saddle), and make them look very pretty while you look like you know what you're doing. It's all about being slow and controlled and looking gorgeous at the same time. If you ever watch it, it looks like it's pointless, but let me tell you, it is hard as heck. But then again, what do I know. Dewey was a regional champion and he knew what he was doing. It was my job to sit on him, pretend I was as good as him, and win all the blue ribbons. Blue ribbons are first place.

Western Pleasure is a difficult task for the horse and rider, and many people have different views on western pleasure. This article is about what western pleasure is trying to complete.

Dewey warming up.

I event, and that's why I'm moving to Dare to Compare, or Gambit, as we call him. He's this guy.

The Mafia Horse, or Gambit, in the aisle.

Eventing is dressage, show jumping, and cross country. Dressage is like western pleasure, the goal is to make you and the horse look very pretty and relaxed. It's just faster paced. Show jumping is when you and your horse are in an arena with a specific height of jumps that someone conveniently dropped in the arena. They expect you to jump it. And of course because if you are the best at it, you get a blue ribbon. And winning is everything. Cross country is jumping but in a huge field, still in a course, but it's a race. Whoever doesn't fall, their horse doesn't bite the dust, they don't get lost, and they have the fastest time, they win.

Dewey rocked at dressage, but didn't quite take to show jumping and cross country. That's alright, he was afraid of heights. He wanted to keep all four feet on the ground. And I still love him for that. He went back yesterday, with a big, sad, tearful closing of a chapter, and I'm still very achy in the heart over him going back, but I'm prepared for a new chapter.

My favorite photo from my last photo shoot with Dewey.