tatjna (tatjna) wrote,

  • Music:

Never mind the million dollars

Somebody else gets it. How I can be moved to tears by the sight of horses. It's a very difficult if not impossible thing to explain to someone who doesn't get it - it's the movement, the grace, the communication between the horse and the person, the power.. none of these words are right. So, usually, I don't bother. But there are other people who get it. It's nice to know that. *hugs Polly* I had almost delegated it to the Things That Make Tats A Freak basket. Also, as an extra added bonus, I have 900 photos to go through. I'm expecting there will be several publishable ones in that lot. So, big ups to notabouthim and his obsesso-camera-clicking. Photos of horses are up there with mix tapes as far as I'm concerned in the list of Cool Things You Can Do For People.

It's weird being reminded of how much you've changed. My friend Shiree (the truck driver from Dargaville) was telling me about when she first got her HT and started driving trucks, and going around farms picking up cattle and what have you. Apparently the good people of my hometown immediately decided that she must be shagging her way around the district because, you know, what else would a woman who spends time alone with men do?

The thing about that is that now, I'm shocked and horrified at the attitude that causes that sort of thinking. But I lived there for 9 years and didn't see it for how ridiculous it was.. well, I did, but that's just how it was and the limitations it placed on my life were just what I had to do to be accepted. "But why did you want to be accepted by people like that, Tats?" I hear you say. That's a damn good question, and I don't really know, except that being different in a place full of sameness and not being strong enough to go "Fuck you all I'm out of here" (at the time) leads to decision making based on something other than internal integrity.

Eventually I went Fuck You All. I don't regret it for a second, especially seeing Shiree again and noticing how stifling it is for her. But, I still consciously think "Am I going to be alone with men?" when I dress, and it's part of myself that I'm working to (strangle? kill? some violent rending from self anyway). I've moaned enough about this so regular readers will know that I desire to dress feminine and sexy (and be alluring), the best I can usually manage (except on occasions that give me an excuse) is flattering but asexual (and being matey).

I could always make myself a sign that says Friend Not Lover. Actually, that would be a good name for a band. But I digress.

Who knows, maybe one day I'll get my flirt on. Till then, if you're a man, I'll avoid eye contact till I know you're safe. Don't ask me what safe means, I can't really say. But I know. And yes, I'm quite aware that it probably means I'll never get laid again but, you know, I've kind of come to accept that too.

Except for the little voice that whispers to me that maybe I just haven't met anyone yet that causes me to throw caution to the wind.

And why would it take someone else to bring that out? Uhunno. You tell me.

The Giving Tree is progressing. Sadly, last night my head was full of horses so my contributions were distracted at best. Luckily there is a core group of people-who-aren't-distracted-by-ungulates, who managed to Organise Stuff without me while I indulged in horse talk with pombagira and tieke. My view is, just give me a job to do once it's all decided.

This weekend I should pin up flyers for sheep shearing. And there will be dancing. I'm trying to decide if I should wear the Funky Pants of Textural Variety. That may be a bit weird.

Hang on. Weird. I like weird. 'Sides, if any pants can make you want to dance, it's these ones. Hmm....

Having a head full of horses is quite nice. The one pictured is a Friesian. They are much sexier than friesian cows, oh yes.
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