Monday, August 6, 2012

Back in the saddle. A socially awkward saddle.

I went to Mexico once. I think it was about 7 years ago. Iiiiiick, that was much too long ago. Anywho, while I was there I went horseback riding out into the jungle to this really beautiful waterfall. It was at least an hour and a half ride in and then another hour and a half back to the ranch. There was a pretty big group of us that went. All the horses were beautiful and majestic.... except mine. His name was Grenudo (spelling?? I have no idea. Pronounced GREY-NOO-DOE). And he was a little goofy looking and smaller than the rest. He was pretty much made for me. I am subconsciously drawn to the small and goofy in the world, I like misfits. It was Grenudo and I against the big fancy horses and much more experienced riders. Of course we would come out ahead because what we lacked in stature and experience, we made up for in good humor and heart. Off we went!

Well, while I was overflowing with good humor and heart, Grenudo was lazy and clearly bored with the whole experience. We would go a hundred feet or so and then he would decide it was time for a break, and literally try to lie down on the trail while I was still perched on top of him, flailing to keep my balance and not topple off head first. He would veer off the trail to eat some shrubbery or just try to wander off for no good reason! On top of his antics the saddle was a little loose and settling off to one side instead of center. I spent the entire ride over-correcting to the opposite side to compensate for it. It had been years since I had ridden a horse, but I felt like I was being punished by the universe for some imaginary wrong I had committed. Had I not tipped the waiter enough at breakfast? Was Grenudo expecting apples, or carrots, or.... something? He was a wayward child who refused to listen to me. I tried all manner of encouraging words:




Ugh. Grenudo had a mind of his own and I went from being sure that he and I would emerge from the jungle victorious, waterfall trail conquerors, to sloppily galloping in well behind all the others, looking disheveled (well I did, he looked normal) and thanking the heavens for arriving safely back at the ranch in one piece and not lost out in the wilderness to die alone.

Bet you didn't know I was a cowgurrrl? Rustled up this pic of my epic horseback riding adventure. Save a horse...... ;)

Now, all these years later, whenever I hear the phrase "Back in the saddle again", I take a trip down memory lane to my little adventure with Grenudo, and I laugh.  Getting back in any saddle should not be so trying! And humiliating.

Yet, here I am. Back in the saddle. The proverbially dating saddle. And it is as awkward and trying as I remember it being. I am a confident girl. I am almost never at a loss for things to say (you've seen my blog, right?) and I am always comfortable enough in my own skin to be at ease and comfortable around anyone, stranger or long time friend.  Having said that, WHY DO I FEEL LIKE A SOCIALLY STUNTED, STUTTERING, SWEATY MESS???  

I am doing this dating thing all wrong. I must be. There is no other reason why I lay in bed at night and think "Arrrrrgggg, why did I say THAT?" And it's not even as if I have so much dating to do... but there is this one guy who seems to like spending time with me. And the time spent is lots of fun! But I will admit that I feel more often than not like I just trotted up, hanging half sideways out of the saddle of my runty-donkey-esque steed, Grenudo, with twigs in my hair and forgetting how to say my own name. Oh and feeling about as attractive as a sea cow.

sexy, no?

Dating gives me heartburn. And makes me use ridiculous run on sentences. But the hand holding makes it better. Seriously, holding hands may be the best thing in life.

I am going to take a deep breath and remind myself that I am awesome and shouldn't feel less than so ever. Grenudo and I got this! Mush!!

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