What a week. I didn't think I would make it today (Thursday). I saw 3oh!3, Down With Webster, Hellogoodbye, and...Neon Hitch(?) last night at the LC. 3oh!3 is up there with the most entertaining bands I've ever seen live (close competitors would be Jimmy Eat World, Mayday Parade, and Down With Webster). This is the second time I've seen 3oh!3 the first being in 2008, on the Alternative Press Tour with the Maine and Family Force Five (strangest lineup in the history of touring...aside maybe Bonaroo the year they had Kanye West and Brand New).
I had a lot of fun to say the least. One of the opening bands Down With Webster that I had never heard of turned out to be really entertaining live. Listen to their single Whoa Is Me here. It's an incredibly diverse group of seven musicians/singers.
I completely lost my voice and was almost caught by my parents most "orchestra concerts" don't last till 11:45...haha
Music has always been a huge part of my life. I began taking piano at the age of four and continued until I was eight. I've been playing the cello for six years (you might laugh but it gives me an edge in applying for colleges) and I absolutely love the instrument...but I hate the class. For some reason I've always been more musically inclined. The totally racist reasoning for this is because I am Asian. The politically correct reasoning is because I have been touched by something special.
Music has always been my comfort zone. Whether it be Bach, Vitamin String Quartet, Jimmy Eat World, Mayday Parade, or Of Montreal music has always been there for me. Through my cello I can express emotions I could never dream of sharing verbally. And at concerts I become a very different Stephanie. I'm confident, I'm bubbly, and I honestly don't give a flying you know what about anything. Because for that night it's just the music and I. Every song is sang directly toward me, and I cling onto every word like it's the last. And now I've even started to use music while riding in Freestyle Dressage and Freestyle reining.
Your taste in music changes over time, but your love for it is always there. Something I've learned over time. I used to think Avril was hardcore.
Music goes hand in hand with the 1st Amendment which gives us freedom of speech. Which coincidentally is the same amendment that they used to rule organized prayer in public schools to be unconstitutional (see how I tied that in there...haha) just like in the trial I'm researching Engel v. Vitale. I'm ready for these research papers to be over with. Not that I don't enjoy researching, it's just getting old.
This weekend I have to work on my speech and debate script seeing as the first tournament is...next weekend. Not good. I also have the barns Halloween party. I've won the costume portion three years in a row. Should be fun, one year we ended up bobbing for apples with the horses...the horses won. Hopefully it's just as fun as last years Christmas party which turned into a thirty person snow massacre.
I hope you all have a fun and safe Halloween weekend!
Snow brawl, I'm in the black coat. Order from left to right is Cassey, myself, Miranda and Jonathan.
Horrible quality picture... but this is "Peep" the chick magnet. He hated me for about a week after this.
Horse "dancing" if you're interested. It's pairing technical dressage with music. Very difficult if not timed correctly. Dressage without music is difficult enough. When was the last time you trained your dog to trot in place? haha
Orchestra can play cool music too? Vitamin String Quartet takes popular pop songs and re arranges them for orchestral instruments.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Behind the Inhaler Pt. 7
What a miserable week! I think I've spent more time in the doctors office than my own room. Last Thursday not only did I pass my drivers test (didn't miss a single point) but I had another spine checkup at the hospital. The first day of summer was my first doctors appointment for my spine. I was told that I had jeopardized my mobilization by not stopping at the first sign of pain. How was I supposed to know my spine was fractured? Yes it hurt like mad, but again I have a high pain tolerance. Since then I've been through nine weeks of physical therapy (two sessions a week), nine sessions of functional rehab, and a strict non-athletic schedule. Most of my sharp pain has subsided however I still have this constant nagging pressure. Concerned my doctor set up an emergency MRI for Monday (I received a radiation dye test back in June which was the craziest most insane medical experience of my life) which was incredibly obnoxious, loud, and uncomfortable. Not to mention I'm incredibly claustrophobic and have anxiety issues. Tuesday I received my weekly immunutherapy injections. Wednesday I had my last session of functional rehab (I nearly cried tears of joy) and today (Thursday) I had my final appointment with this doctor and my MRI reading.
They found nothing. You'd think that would be a good thing. But in my case it's not. I first started feeling pain in January (which means I went through an entire season of Varsity track with a spinal fracture and that we're closing in on a year) and we still haven't been able to correct everything. The fracture itself healed (incorrectly but it tried...ha). The muscles are an entirely different story. I wanted them to find something. Clear as day, that's the problem let's fix it. But no, my track record for being a medical mystery continues and I'm being sent to a specialist.
This injury has been so frustrating that I'm getting increasingly more bitter about it. I can hardly ride, and by the end of the day it feels like someone is clawing into my spine.
I am currently procrastinating on my outline with my blog...in a way it's a win-win. I'm procrastinating English homework...with other English homework. I think I'm making improvements.
Have a fun weekend everyone!
Dolly AKA "I've Got an Attitude" registered AQHA. The green foam is the product of her breakfast and a hard workout.
A little girl fell in love with Peter and wrote him a book as a part o her second grade project. I thought it was absolutely adorable.
Mr. Potter shared his dog so here's one of the barn dogs...this is Jester...being Jester. He's a pitty mix.
This is Ralphie he's a boxer mix. Jester is "his" dog.
Jimmy Eat World concert. It was amazing in case you were wondering. They played three of my favorite songs "23," "Futures," and "Hear You Me" (click the song titles to listen).
They found nothing. You'd think that would be a good thing. But in my case it's not. I first started feeling pain in January (which means I went through an entire season of Varsity track with a spinal fracture and that we're closing in on a year) and we still haven't been able to correct everything. The fracture itself healed (incorrectly but it tried...ha). The muscles are an entirely different story. I wanted them to find something. Clear as day, that's the problem let's fix it. But no, my track record for being a medical mystery continues and I'm being sent to a specialist.
This injury has been so frustrating that I'm getting increasingly more bitter about it. I can hardly ride, and by the end of the day it feels like someone is clawing into my spine.
I am currently procrastinating on my outline with my blog...in a way it's a win-win. I'm procrastinating English homework...with other English homework. I think I'm making improvements.
Have a fun weekend everyone!
Dolly AKA "I've Got an Attitude" registered AQHA. The green foam is the product of her breakfast and a hard workout.
A little girl fell in love with Peter and wrote him a book as a part o her second grade project. I thought it was absolutely adorable.
Mr. Potter shared his dog so here's one of the barn dogs...this is Jester...being Jester. He's a pitty mix.
This is Ralphie he's a boxer mix. Jester is "his" dog.
Jimmy Eat World concert. It was amazing in case you were wondering. They played three of my favorite songs "23," "Futures," and "Hear You Me" (click the song titles to listen).
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Behind the Inhaler Pt. 6
Let me start off this week by saying that I hate research papers. I'm all for expanding knowledge but I really hate keeping track of all these note cards. Of course I would pick one of the most controversial cases dealing with religion. I'm not going to dig into specifics since religion is such a touchy topic and I don't want to insult anyone.
I really needed this four day weekend. It has been...28 days in a row of waking up before six (doesn't help that I can't sleep half the time anyway). This is one of the worst times of year for a Human Guinea Pig. Ragweed is up, the air is moist, and the leaves are molding. My allergists loves this time of year. This is when they test out all their new medications...on me. That is why I have grown to call myself a Human Guinea Pig over the years. Let me just say experimental group A was terrible. I haven't been sleeping and I feel like a power drill is slowly prying into my skull.
Being a Human Guinea Pig I've grown an insanely high tolerance for pain. In second grade two of my medications counteracted and started an acidic reaction that tour away at my stomach, I went to school. In fourth grade a draft horse (weighs over one ton) stepped on my big toe, literally flattening it. I never got an x-ray and I walked on it for five years before a doctor confirmed that my toe is in fact connected by nothing but the nerve. In sixth grade I was kicked in the side of the leg twice by a horse (same place in a matter of seconds). I was in the show ring, I finished the class got off and then got my tall boot ripped off due to swelling. I still have a giant hematoma there, didn't shed a tear.
Human Guinea Pigs aren't really given a choice when it comes to being brave. No medication has any guarantee in fact in my personal experience most of them make it worse. But I let them test all this on me because I hope that some day when some kid comes along that is just like me...they won't have to be a human guinea pig. They'll have advanced medications that don't counteract your others. That they won't have to take two inhalers, two pills, eye drops, a nasal spray, and shots every time they want to be around what they love most (talking about horses, going to friends houses, school, being outside).
One day very soon I know I'll have had enough. My liver will reflect that of an alcoholics and my insomnia will reach an all time high. I just hope that they make some medical breakthrough before I reach that point...haha
I hope everyone has a safe fun weekend!
By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.
I really needed this four day weekend. It has been...28 days in a row of waking up before six (doesn't help that I can't sleep half the time anyway). This is one of the worst times of year for a Human Guinea Pig. Ragweed is up, the air is moist, and the leaves are molding. My allergists loves this time of year. This is when they test out all their new medications...on me. That is why I have grown to call myself a Human Guinea Pig over the years. Let me just say experimental group A was terrible. I haven't been sleeping and I feel like a power drill is slowly prying into my skull.
Being a Human Guinea Pig I've grown an insanely high tolerance for pain. In second grade two of my medications counteracted and started an acidic reaction that tour away at my stomach, I went to school. In fourth grade a draft horse (weighs over one ton) stepped on my big toe, literally flattening it. I never got an x-ray and I walked on it for five years before a doctor confirmed that my toe is in fact connected by nothing but the nerve. In sixth grade I was kicked in the side of the leg twice by a horse (same place in a matter of seconds). I was in the show ring, I finished the class got off and then got my tall boot ripped off due to swelling. I still have a giant hematoma there, didn't shed a tear.
Human Guinea Pigs aren't really given a choice when it comes to being brave. No medication has any guarantee in fact in my personal experience most of them make it worse. But I let them test all this on me because I hope that some day when some kid comes along that is just like me...they won't have to be a human guinea pig. They'll have advanced medications that don't counteract your others. That they won't have to take two inhalers, two pills, eye drops, a nasal spray, and shots every time they want to be around what they love most (talking about horses, going to friends houses, school, being outside).
One day very soon I know I'll have had enough. My liver will reflect that of an alcoholics and my insomnia will reach an all time high. I just hope that they make some medical breakthrough before I reach that point...haha
I hope everyone has a safe fun weekend!
By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Behind the Inhaler Pt.5
One of my absolute favorite parts about reading is when you can make a direct connection into the story. When you can sit back and easily say "I know exactly what that's like."
In the fourth grade I had road a different barn than I do today (yes another blog post about horses). I had always been curious about this medium, chestnut horse who resided in the main isles last stall. There were three stalls between him on one side and a wall on the other, no horse lived in the stall across from him. I heard through the grape vine that this horse "Jack" was crazy. He bucked everyone off, he bit people, he charged other horses, and he genuinely hated life. You can imagine the terror I felt the day my trainer told me to "go ahead and tack up the crazy one." Reassuring, right?
I walk over to this horses stall cautiously, I was after all preparing for my emanate death. At first glance Jack was a very handsome horse. He had large "blazing" eyes, you can tell a lot about a horse by there eyes. Where they've been, what they're like, how bad they've been treated. You can see it all, if you bother to look deep enough. I instantly knew that this horse wasn't "mean," "evil," or "crazy." He was broken, beaten, and given up on.
Me being as curious as I was held my breath, reached out my hand and unlatched the bars to his stall. Almost immediately Jack whipped his head around and bit me right on the forearm. Me having no patients for rude horses looked him right in the eye and bit him back. Yes you're thinking "that's cruel!" "he's just an animal!" "I'M E-MAILING PETA!" Well guess what, he bit me first, I'm an animal too.
After I bit him he stood as though he had been a lesson horse his whole life. He stood and watched as I hesitantly tacked him up , and followed my every movement with paranoid acuteness. I led him to the arena, I tightened his girth, I quickly mounted (I had heard horror stories about him rearing and charging when people tried to mount) and had the best ride of my life.
In a way Jack became my horse. I trusted him and he trusted me. After a while he began to recognize me, he'd even "snicker" when I called for him. My trainer couldn't believe it. I got this "crazy" horse to go around the arena jumping like he had been doing it his whole life.
I saw something in Jack and he saw something in me. I was the only person who could pet him, ride him, jump him, and control him. His owner hadn't a clue. She owned her horses for her lesson program. Jack had fallen into her hands due to a friends passing, the bitter horse was just sent to exile to be ignored until I came a long. He wasn't trusted and she didn't want him. He was a "menace to the barn."
I think maybe the reason he saw something in me is because I myself saw something in him. He had been given up on and I gave him more than an opportunity to buck some kid off, I gave him the chance to be cared about, a chance to be "heard."
Jack had never done nothing wrong. He had been put in a position to become bitter, cruel, and mean (if you were thrown into exile in a 12x14 stall you would go crazy too). Horses are wild animals. They will attack when frightened, or provoked.
I sometimes wonder that if I had been there on that September night I'd still have him.
I walked into the barn on a Thursday like I would any other. I had been consistently working with Jack for a year and a half at this point, and was excited for yet another day with him. About half way down the isle I called out like I did every time "Jack Jack!" No snicker, no whinny. I knew before I even reached his stall that something had happened. I knew something was wrong.
Come to find out by one of the stall cleaners that Jack had bitten a girl in the forehead, and his owner instantly put him down him to avoid legal issues.
The girl didn't need stitches, and she didn't go to the hospital.
I found out a week later by a witness that the little girl had been taunting Jack with a carrot when he "bit" her. The witness thinks he was simply just trying to get the carrot.
Atticus said it's sin to kill a mockingbird. It's sin to kill something that had never done anything wrong. It's not Jack's fault. Horses don't get to pick the people in their lives. It's all luck. It's not his fault that man corrupted him into the bitter horse that others came to see him as.
I've yet to find a horse that even comes close to Jack. I don't think I'll ever forget him.
~*~
An update about the World Equine Games in Lexington! I have a few pictures just to add to this already lengthy blog post (honestly some people write a five sentence paragraph and say it took them fifteen minutes).
Just chilling...on a giant goose. This goose is actually a jump! It was part of the cross country eventing course. The course also included a giant fish jump, and bird jump.
A beautiful white horse from the Canadian team jumping the famous "Twin Spires" fence.
Spread, brush fence during the cross country phase. I think this is a Swedish rider...maybe South African they wore simular uniforms.
In the fourth grade I had road a different barn than I do today (yes another blog post about horses). I had always been curious about this medium, chestnut horse who resided in the main isles last stall. There were three stalls between him on one side and a wall on the other, no horse lived in the stall across from him. I heard through the grape vine that this horse "Jack" was crazy. He bucked everyone off, he bit people, he charged other horses, and he genuinely hated life. You can imagine the terror I felt the day my trainer told me to "go ahead and tack up the crazy one." Reassuring, right?
I walk over to this horses stall cautiously, I was after all preparing for my emanate death. At first glance Jack was a very handsome horse. He had large "blazing" eyes, you can tell a lot about a horse by there eyes. Where they've been, what they're like, how bad they've been treated. You can see it all, if you bother to look deep enough. I instantly knew that this horse wasn't "mean," "evil," or "crazy." He was broken, beaten, and given up on.
Me being as curious as I was held my breath, reached out my hand and unlatched the bars to his stall. Almost immediately Jack whipped his head around and bit me right on the forearm. Me having no patients for rude horses looked him right in the eye and bit him back. Yes you're thinking "that's cruel!" "he's just an animal!" "I'M E-MAILING PETA!" Well guess what, he bit me first, I'm an animal too.
After I bit him he stood as though he had been a lesson horse his whole life. He stood and watched as I hesitantly tacked him up , and followed my every movement with paranoid acuteness. I led him to the arena, I tightened his girth, I quickly mounted (I had heard horror stories about him rearing and charging when people tried to mount) and had the best ride of my life.
In a way Jack became my horse. I trusted him and he trusted me. After a while he began to recognize me, he'd even "snicker" when I called for him. My trainer couldn't believe it. I got this "crazy" horse to go around the arena jumping like he had been doing it his whole life.
I saw something in Jack and he saw something in me. I was the only person who could pet him, ride him, jump him, and control him. His owner hadn't a clue. She owned her horses for her lesson program. Jack had fallen into her hands due to a friends passing, the bitter horse was just sent to exile to be ignored until I came a long. He wasn't trusted and she didn't want him. He was a "menace to the barn."
I think maybe the reason he saw something in me is because I myself saw something in him. He had been given up on and I gave him more than an opportunity to buck some kid off, I gave him the chance to be cared about, a chance to be "heard."
Jack had never done nothing wrong. He had been put in a position to become bitter, cruel, and mean (if you were thrown into exile in a 12x14 stall you would go crazy too). Horses are wild animals. They will attack when frightened, or provoked.
I sometimes wonder that if I had been there on that September night I'd still have him.
I walked into the barn on a Thursday like I would any other. I had been consistently working with Jack for a year and a half at this point, and was excited for yet another day with him. About half way down the isle I called out like I did every time "Jack Jack!" No snicker, no whinny. I knew before I even reached his stall that something had happened. I knew something was wrong.
Come to find out by one of the stall cleaners that Jack had bitten a girl in the forehead, and his owner instantly put him down him to avoid legal issues.
The girl didn't need stitches, and she didn't go to the hospital.
I found out a week later by a witness that the little girl had been taunting Jack with a carrot when he "bit" her. The witness thinks he was simply just trying to get the carrot.
Atticus said it's sin to kill a mockingbird. It's sin to kill something that had never done anything wrong. It's not Jack's fault. Horses don't get to pick the people in their lives. It's all luck. It's not his fault that man corrupted him into the bitter horse that others came to see him as.
I've yet to find a horse that even comes close to Jack. I don't think I'll ever forget him.
~*~
An update about the World Equine Games in Lexington! I have a few pictures just to add to this already lengthy blog post (honestly some people write a five sentence paragraph and say it took them fifteen minutes).
Just chilling...on a giant goose. This goose is actually a jump! It was part of the cross country eventing course. The course also included a giant fish jump, and bird jump.
A beautiful white horse from the Canadian team jumping the famous "Twin Spires" fence.
Spread, brush fence during the cross country phase. I think this is a Swedish rider...maybe South African they wore simular uniforms.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
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