horse d’oeuvres

It started with a coupon – buy one lesson, get two free.  Studley jumped on the offer to take a few horseback riding lessons in November, 2011.  It was something we had discussed, and put on the “one of these days” list.  With the winter chill looming, and a good bargain, we went to the stable for the first time.

We had no idea where it would lead.  It has brought tremendous joy.

If someone had told me that i’d learn to assemble gear on a horse?  That i’d be comfortable grooming a 1,200 pound animal on my own?  That i’d have no hesitation in grabbing a horse by the ankle and confidently picking manure out of his hooves?

That i’d be riding in my first horse show at the age of 50?


But last weekend, that is just what happened!  It was a “Fun Show” held by our stable, to raise money for Saddlebred Rescue.*  Not a competitive event, it is used by the instructor to help the newer riders train for more serious competition.

Last year, Studley and i had been riding for a few short months – so we just sponsored a few classes and went to watch.  Sitting in the arena on a chilly spring morning, we watched the youngsters, and some older riders, get their horse game on…

daisyfae:  Do you think we’ll ever be able to ride like that?

Studley:  Probably not, but it’s fun to think about!

This year?  We decided to take a run at it. Well, a “walk-trot” at it.

The kids would have their parents, and grandparents, in the barn… Encouraging.  Cheering.  Proudly saying “That’s my kid!”

Receiving a random signal from the trailer park planet, i hatched a plot to get MY mommy there, too!  With serious support from Studley, she was in the arena with us that Sunday morning.

She encouraged.  She cheered.  Her advice to me as i headed out to mount up – “I’ll be proud of you if you just stay on the horse!”  When my name was called for a second place ribbon?  She hooted and hollered and said “That’s my kid!”

Studley and i also rode in a pairs event — similar to the “Pas de Deux” in Dressage, our instructor modified it to make it more accessible to novice riders.  Instead of the team riding side-by-side while riding a pattern, we rode “mirror” patterns – with the goal of staying synchronized and not running into each other when crossing paths!  We referred to it as the “Faux Pas de Deux” event.

We got second in that event… out of two teams!

That night, we decided to figure out what those ribbons cost.  A year and a half of weekly lessons, riding gear (helmets, boots), entry fees…  Right around $1,300 EACH.  And worth every penny…

Roller Derby, Hard Hat, Pith Helmet, Paintball Mask, Ski Helmet, Motorcycle Helmet, Horseback Riding Helmet, Bicycle Helmet, plus assorted shooting gear

The Helmet Shelf in my garage

* WARNING – adorable animal alert!  You might end up with a four-legged friend in your guest house if you look at these lovelies…

** We had to ride with the adults – it wasn’t proper to let us ride in the “Youth” class.  Probably because those 12 year olds would have kicked our asses!  i placed 2nd out of three riders!  And Studley just missed knocking me out of second place by a few thousandths of a point!

Wasn’t on my bucket list…

Among other things, i’m a well-characterized drunk.  My first drunk occurred when i was 13, and ever since, i’ve managed to hone my drinking behavior, based on an intuitive iterative process.

For example, i don’t drink tequila, as it makes me mean and i get in bar fights.  Sometimes while only partially clothed.  i also don’t like to drink too much wine, especially red, as it gives me a horrific headache, and just the worst kind of hangovers.  If i drink to extreme excess?  My body is highly efficient in clearing toxins, and i am prone to blowing chunks.

But last night?  Something was quite different…. 

Friday night, i attended a lovely party, kicking off Pride Week in our little burg.  Rooftop venue, complete with a fabulous drag show and Monte Carlo style gaming.  Since it was a fundraiser, we went for the VIP tickets, giving us swag bags and unlimited drinks!

It was a hoot!  Beautiful evening, overlooking the minor league baseball stadium.  View of the giant fountains launching water-fireworks from the river.  Engaging, eclectic crowd – maybe 200 people.  i wasn’t the designated driver, so i happily swilled white wine, as we played games, watched the entertainers, and horsed around with the crowd.

i got hammered.  Seriously hammered.  Vague recollection of some of the following when i woke up this morning.  Other details?  Provided by Studley McRocklegs during our Saturday morning bike ride.

– Walking a dominatrix from the party to a local club.

– Being verbally abused by a dominatrix as we walked hand-in-hand to a local club.

– Insisting it would be ok for me to take a leak on a tree in the middle of downtown as we walked back to the car.

– Taking a leak on a tree in the middle of downtown.

– Chasing down, and chatting up,  a spiky-haired lesbian at the party, because she told me i was a good dancer.

– Giving my phone number to a spiky-haired lesbian.

– Discussing body modification with a couple of young men.  Who decided to show me the mods to their penises. 

– Grabbing two modified penises with my fingers, and pretending they were swords, while yelling “Cock fight!”

– Getting home somewhere around midnight, being effectively carried to my bed by Studley – but not before asking my daughter “has the dog been out to pee?” about five times.

i suspect there’s more…

Waking up only at 4:00 am to take out my contacts, i returned to bed and continued to sleep soundly until 8:00 am.  Dreaming of zombies.  Studley had opened my bedroom windows to let fresh air in, and parked a trash can beside my bed in case i needed it.  My daughter had brought me a glass of water.

Somewhere around 9:00 am, my daughter poked her head in my room to check on me.

The Girl:  Hey!  i can’t believe you’re up already!  You must feel like hell – you were incredibly drunk last night.  You couldn’t even walk without help.

daisyfae:  Ummm…. i feel ok.  A little tired, and i can’t feel the tip of my tongue for some reason, but it’s not that bad.

Did my normal Saturday morning routine, walked the dog, checked Facebook – discovering two friend requests from lovely lesbians i’d met the night before.  One with a message saying “You are so much fun!  Great meeting you last night – even though we only talked briefly, it was one of the highlights of the party for me!” 

i couldn’t really remember talking with her.  Or her friend. 

i pinged Studley about our planned morning bike ride.  He was just as surprised that i was awake, not hurting, and planning to ride.

Did a 20-miler, and as we talked through the events from the night before, i realized there were at least 2-3 hours missing from my memory banks.  It wasn’t until we were on the final leg home that i asked him “What do you think the odds are that someone slipped something in my drink?”

Studley:  When I brought you home last night, I asked you if you thought someone had given you a Roofie.

daisyfae:  Guess what?  i don’t remember that…  You’ve seen me drunk.  This wasn’t typical, was it? 

Studley:  At one point?  I noticed that you seemed to get really drunk – your behavior changed sort of dramatically.  Then you went off chasing women…

daisyfae:  i should have been really hung over this morning.  But i wasn’t.  And i didn’t puke.

So there it is.  Baby’s first roofie.  No idea regarding the who or why – assuming that i most likely drank wine that belonged to someone else. 

While this wasn’t exactly something on my bucket list, i have learned a valuable lesson:  Rohypnol turns me into a lesbian predator.