Freak-out over.

My apologies for my box office obsession over the weekend. I've moved on. As to my childish hate-on for Steven Spielberg, we shall see. That bastard tried to cut me off in traffic once, you know. Not to mention the goddamn walky-talkies.

It's come to my attention that I live a very strange life. I cannot deny this.

We went horseback riding yesterday with Rian and Cassie. I am achy and bruised. As we headed back to the stables we passed a group going the opposite direction. The last horse carried a man roughly twice my age (perhaps a bit less) with a fine mustache. He turned completely around in his saddle and stared at me as I passed him. It was a bit unnerving, but terribly flattering. Unless he was just astonished at the awkwardness of my seat - my stirrups were a touch too long and I'd gotten banged up terribly when I finally convinced my horse to run. But he probably just thought I was pretty.

Anyone good with resumes? I am great at writing/editing them for other people, but making my own sound even halfway decent is a skill I do not possess.