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Riding horses.

As I wait for the last thirteen minutes of my workday to slip away, I was suddenly struck with a longing to go riding. I am not sure if it is the exhilarating sport I miss, or the memories that are linked so closely with it.

I miss the smell of horses. When you bury your nose in their mane while your brushing them. I miss the fear of falling off (again!) and landing on your head (again!). I miss the adrenaline rush of clearing a jump nicely. I miss the warming flush of victory and the bitter, bitter taste of defeat.

Odd how things come flooding back to you like that and the most random times.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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