Saturday, March 20

There seems to be some strange beliefs circling around involving the homosexual "lifestyle" and how deviant and immoral it is. So here I am to bring you the most sinful production full of guilty pleasures since MTV's Undressed....

A Day In the Life Of a Homosexual
[insert Jawsish dramatic/horror soundtrack here]

I wake up between six and seven a.m. I go to the bathroom, brush my teeth, start the coffee for Ethan. Grab my cat from wherever she is sleeping (usually the stairs) and climb back in bed. The cat settles on E's stomach and falls back into dreamland instantly; he wakes when the sun starts to rise. We sit and talk or read until 7:30, and then get up to have breakfast -- sometimes he cooks eggs or pancakes, but it's usually just cereal and toast. At eight we run down to the barn to start feeding horses. I handle the grain, he handles the hay because he thinks I'm too weak or something else ridiculous (he's much too protective of me these days).

Once all the 30 or so horses are fed and watered, the stall-cleaning begins. In the morning we just pick out the messes; in the afternoon/evening (when we have more help :P) all the bedding gets replaced, etc. Sometime in between feeding and mucking we take the horses outside that are going out, and bring some in if we need to. After the cleaning, we go to the countless other tasks: watering down the indoor if it's very dusty, cleaning tack, ordering feed/bedding/etc, restocking the drinks in the lounge, doing the dishes at the house, paying bills, grooming and taking care of injured horses, playing with my cat, and learning (E is a history channel addict). Around 3 the first kids start showing up, and we get them started cleaning stalls or riding or whatever task they may be doing that day. The rest of the evening is pretty lax; just hanging out, doing whatever, just being around to help if anyone needs it.

Someone starts working on dinner at 5 (usually Luke or Ethan, I'm not much of a cook), and after we eat whoever didn't cook is in charge of the dishes. Sometimes E takes me out -- I'm a big fan of Applebee's and anywhere I can get french toast at night -- but usually we stay in. When it's cold we start a fire after dinner and sit in front of it; when it's warm the windows stay open all day for the breeze and the cats to get in and out.

Sometimes at night we spend hours kissing and loving, learning each other. Sometimes during the day he sneaks up on me and leaves a hickey on my neck while I'm cleaning stalls, or slips his hands around my stomach and hugs me tight. "I L Y," he signs, "I L Y."

Quite a horrendous lifestyle we lead, neh?


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