Of taking walks, betting the ponies, and a trunk full of skin care products




Now that the weather is getting colder, I have decided to take a walk every morning (well except this morning because I needed sleep). I have taken about 4 walks around my neighborhood over the past week. I wish I could tell you about all the beautiful trees and leaves changing colors. Or even about how pretty the sky looked. I saw none of that. I am a klutz, and as such when I walk I am constantly looking down. I have to watch where I am stepping or I will fall (hell even when I watch where I am stepping I fall). I love talking walks, and maybe someday I will be able to tell you about the world around me. I won't hold my breath...


Last Friday I went to the horse races. I was so excited for about a month leading up to this. I am not into most sports. I don't get them and I don't really want to get them. My brain can only absorb so much, and I would hate for it to get full on the rules of basketball. But I love horse racing. I have never ridden a horse, and to be honest they kind of scare me, but I think horse racing rocks. I don't know if it is the speed of the horses, or watching really small men race while I eat a corn dog, or maybe even watching those same small men race in hot pink jersey's with flowers and lightening bolts. Either way I love this sport. I went with some friends and we had a great time. I taught them my betting strategy (I'll tell you too- I match all my colors up, if one jockey is wearing red, then I am going to find other jockeys to match his, or I pick all the oldest horses in the race, it's very scientific stuff). Needless to say I lost all my money. And because my friends used my system they lost all their money too. But I loved it. In the box next to me was this old man who every time a race start would scream obscenities and endearments at the horse. My favorite was when he shouted "Don't you fucking lose! Don't you quit me!" Very Seabuscuit meets Brokeback Mountain. And all of this was shouted at the top of his lungs as he was sucking down a cigarette. Ah the magic of the races. I always come away broke, and yet I can't wait for next year.


And lastly, my cousin is selling Arbonne products now, and she has got a couple more cousins to go in with her. Every time you turn around there is an Arbonne party happening somewhere close by. So I have gone to all of them (hello free foot scrubs). I promised my cousin she could have a party at my dad's house, so I was talking last night to confirm plans with him. And he is convinced that my cousins are trying to unload all this merchandise they bought. I tried to explain that it was like Mary Kay and they don't actually have any merchandise on them, but he kept talking about how they need to unload all their stuff fast. So basically my dad thinks that Arbonne is just a big gang of girls with great skin who sell other girls (with not-so-great skin) merchandise at a discount out of their trunk. Works for me.