ifeelbetter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ifeelbetter) wrote2010-08-14 11:30 am
ifeelbetter) wrote2010-08-14 11:30 am
I have real life.
I've been visiting family in the mid-west for a couple of days now. The cottage we're staying at has been in the family for a couple of hundred years and (though that is unspectacular for anyone not from America) that's pretty awesomely old. If I understand things correctly, my great-great-great-(rinse-and-repeat)-great grandmother probably poisoned her rich older husband after he built this cottage and married her young lover. Who also died. Anyway, we have this awesomely old cottage.
My uncle, who inherited it (and is the only person in his generation who could afford to have a summer home), is more than a little wealthy. It's very strange to slip into his kind of lifestyle temporarily--especially because this summer place is all about aristocratically pretending to be in a lower income bracket, much like Marie Antoinette's cottage. It's still very authentic to how it had always been but, back in the day when my grandmother still owned it, it didn't have much of a bathroom. Instead, it had a kickass outhouse. See? Times have changed.
But, yeah, we're in farmland and staying with my richest relative. It's odd. And then...we went to a rodeo.
Most of the events I was just like "Why are you dragging that poor clown around the mud again?" or "Couldn't you get the cow to stay still while you milked it?" and other questions of logic. It was fantastic.
The evening ended on a rather low note: a guy got crunched by a bull. It turned out he only had a broken leg but it kind of broke the mirage for me. I mean, the person who provided the music had sad music on cue. They also had music for when, like ten minutes later, a bull escaped the pens. There is a certain disregard for human (and animal) life there that is disconcerting. I would rather skip the bull-related deaths, thankyouverymuch, and get back to the wild cow milking and barrel runs. Those were awesome.
My uncle, who inherited it (and is the only person in his generation who could afford to have a summer home), is more than a little wealthy. It's very strange to slip into his kind of lifestyle temporarily--especially because this summer place is all about aristocratically pretending to be in a lower income bracket, much like Marie Antoinette's cottage. It's still very authentic to how it had always been but, back in the day when my grandmother still owned it, it didn't have much of a bathroom. Instead, it had a kickass outhouse. See? Times have changed.
But, yeah, we're in farmland and staying with my richest relative. It's odd. And then...we went to a rodeo.
Most of the events I was just like "Why are you dragging that poor clown around the mud again?" or "Couldn't you get the cow to stay still while you milked it?" and other questions of logic. It was fantastic.
The evening ended on a rather low note: a guy got crunched by a bull. It turned out he only had a broken leg but it kind of broke the mirage for me. I mean, the person who provided the music had sad music on cue. They also had music for when, like ten minutes later, a bull escaped the pens. There is a certain disregard for human (and animal) life there that is disconcerting. I would rather skip the bull-related deaths, thankyouverymuch, and get back to the wild cow milking and barrel runs. Those were awesome.