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Mesmerized by the Glowing Apple…

Guess what I’m writing this post on? A Mac! A Macbook! Yes, an Apple laptop! To make a long story short, Digit Dell’s screen issue turned worse throughout the past few months. It continued to flicker off, resulting in me smacking it harder to keep it on again. The technician at Cyber Depot said a connection went bad and I walked out of the store with this Mac. My new Mac, named Magnet (don’t want to confuse it with my sister’s Mac, do we?) works much nicer. Compared to my previous laptops the battery lasts longer, it runs quicker, and is more convenient. Thus, I decided to update this blog.

Why does everything during my Junior year seem happen at ONCE? Already I cannot believe it’s April already. It was not too long ago when I trudged back to school in September whining “Why did county fair week have to end?!” Now the school year is practically over -and good riddance! Don’t misunderstand me -I had a phenomenal time this spring with my Student Theare family during our production of The Sting (yes, based off the movie). The show turned out well and I kept my position as one of the stage managers. Of course, track season follows and then prom. These activities are fun and do they ever pass the time! Only a few weeks remain of school before I’ll be…a senior. I am not going to even START that topic, so I’ll end this post right here for the time being.

I am still alive, working on creative projects, and not dead. :)

-DA Agelle

Some Meaning To It

When I logged onto my blog earlier this morning I searched through my oldest blog posts and pages’ revision records, hoping to discover some trace of my old horse posts. I remember when I started the Archies back in the spring of 2008, a few days before I broke my leg riding Adam through a door. In one follow-up post to the incident I remember typing out everything I ever felt about him, including the infamous disappointment of having the horse I love (and whose vet bill cost a lot of money the previous summer) repay me by bolting off and breaking my leg. Although in those days I didn’t quite bother to write as thoroughly and organized as I do now, I still wish I had a trace of those posts left. I deleted them when I started cleaning up this blog and categorizing my posts, thinking that they ‘didn’t fit’ and had no real relation to my other blog content. Well, was I ever wrong!

A few posts complaining about Adam’s unruliness may not seem too significant to everyone else in the equestrian community but they meant everything to me. I could have restored them had they been kept privately instead of permanent deletion. I could have used them as a tangible marker, a ‘before’ snapshot to compare to Adam the reliable best friend today. I plan on typing out a full story of both of my horses but I only wish I had the original primary source to enahance it with. Oh, well. There is no use ranting about what cannot be changed, I suppose. Instead I will have to merely retell my J.B. Stables stories, starting from the day of my grandfather’s death in seventh grade to the past county fair. Perhaps explaining this way could be better after all, now that more of my horseloving friends are aware of this blog and now have the chance to learn anything about my background they possibly missed.

There is meaning to my horse stories. I recall what I said on the way to the hospital that March evening -I wanted Adam dead ASAP. (Obviously, I did not carry through with this idea.) Now I realize that if Adam did die, I would never be the person I am today. It was because of him, one of my first horses, that I learned through the mistakes I made. Over the years I developed a bulletproof of determination (some call it stubborn, I say there is a difference).

Hobos cannot live in cardboard boxes for their entire lives. Sooner or later they have to crawl out and walk around to find a more sustainable shelter. Under a bridge, a tunnel, or endlessly strolling through a 24-hour WalMart -anything built enough to suffice. If they choose to rely upon a cardboard dwelling they will find themselves in a soggy, wet mess. I will not be that hobo.

Thanks to Adam, I never will be.

The stories in this post will continue throughout the blog posts and pages. Part of the above post can be found on my ‘J.B. Stables’ page under the heading of my stable story.

-DA Agelle