This is how Arthur Zey feels about just barely losing at Pandemic, my grammatical and dishwashing errors, and your wrongness on the internet.
As many of you already know, Paul and I separated in April after 16 years of marriage.
Last week, we decided that we should let friends know that we are definitely on a path to divorce. We’ve started seeing other people (or at least that’s in the works), so we wanted some greater public clarity about the state of our marriage.
Happily, our relationship is very amicable. We meet for a friendly meal about once a week, and we’ve been talking very openly and honestly about our marriage. We’ve also been doing (and will continue to do) divorce counseling together, as well as individual therapy. The legal process of divorce is not yet underway for logistical reasons, but that’ll start sometime in the next few months.
I know that some of you will be surprised by this announcement, but please be assured that Paul and I are doing okay, and that we appreciate the support of our friends as we move forward with our lives. This is a major and difficult life-change for both of us, and I think we’ll be better off at the end of it.
Also… I plan to change back to my maiden name — meaning that I’ll be Diana Mertz Brickell again. To ease the transition, I’m going to start using that socially now and professionally soon. Legally though, that’ll only change with the divorce.
For some time now, I’ve gone back and forth about whether I’m INFJ or INFP on Myers-Briggs. Over the past few months, I’ve seen some aspects of my personality change and sharpen: I feel more in control of my life, more confident, and more driven. As part of that, I’m engaged in lots more J-ish behaviors. (If only I’d let you see my spreadsheets!!)
And… the INFJ on this myth-busting page really resonated with me:
Stereotype #2: INFJs are the natural counselors of the world, who want nothing more than to care for and nurture you.
Reality: Though they certainly do care for others, INFJs can often come across as cold if you don’t know them well. They lead with introverted intuition, which makes them infinitely more interested in analyzing big-picture problems than helping you sort out your relationship issues – they are empathetic to a fault but they’d usually rather be analyzing than empathizing.
Consequently, most INFJs are protective of their inner selves, sharing only what they choose to share when they choose to share it. They are deep, complex individuals, who are quite private and typically difficult to understand. INFJs hold back part of themselves, and can be secretive.
I’m only starting to understand just how really, really true this is of me. But no, I’m not going to give you any details, random people of Earth. SO THERE.
P.S. For what it’s worth, I don’t recommend trying to type yourself using a test. The test sucks.
This Sunday morning, we’re putting doggie Mae to sleep for the aggression problems that I discussed here. At the same time, we’re also putting kitty Elliot to sleep too: his heart is definitely failing, and by keeping him alive, we risk him throwing a clot and thereby having a terribly painful end. My wonderful, wonderful vet is making a special trip out to our place on her day off to do this.
So Sunday will be a terribly day for me, and I couldn’t even think of broadcasting. I know that we’re making the right choice, but still, this is so hard.
The other day, I was trying to bring Mae inside, but she was obsessed with her best friend the big green ball. So I took the ball from her and threw it over the fence of the dog run… which she promptly leapt over. Then, a few moments later, I was surprised when she came back over that fence (from the low side!) with the green ball in her mouth.
Of course, we had to do a reenactment for video. She wasn’t quite as smooth or eager the second time around, but she did it!
On Facebook, eventing legend Denny Emerson wrote:
One experiment that I’d try in an attempt to continue to have cross country be the heart of eventing, while at the same time trying to reduce the falls that create injuries and fatalities, would be to simply make the XC courses substantially longer, but also somewhat less technical.
That would start to weed out the horses that were good in dressage and show jumping, but were not real galloping stayers.
Instead, say, of a six minute course, make it 8-9 minutes, and so on. An 8 minute test would become 11-12 minutes, and so on. Riders would have to start to get very real about fitness, and they would start to select tough gallopers, the kind of horses the sport was originally invented to test.
I don’t think the modern pros would go for this, because it would dry up some of the money, which is what upper level eventing in 2015 is increasingly “about”.
I like this proposal better than any that I’ve seen before, but I fear that it wouldn’t make a dent in the alarming rate of horse and rider injuries/deaths in eventing… because it’s not just the technical fences that are the problem. Three examples:
(1) When I was a cross-country judge this summer at the Colorado Horse Park, I was judging two easy, straightforward galloping fences. I was unhappy to see that none of the training-level riders — except the professionals — compressed/rounded the canter of their horses before the fence. Those people weren’t galloping too fast or anything, but the horses weren’t really alert to the upcoming fence, either mentally or physically, as they should have been.
As a result, I saw bad jump after bad jump… and then finally, I saw a rotational fall that could have paralyzed the rider. That rider didn’t do anything worse (or better) than the others: her horse just got into a bad spot, and he was so discombobulated that his front legs said “another step” and his back legs said “let’s go!” I thought the rider was dead or paralyzed as she lay on the ground. Thankfully (!!), she’d only broken some ribs.
(2) I was watching the last fence in prelim at a horse trial in Santa Fe this summer — again, a nice straightforward table — when a horse left out a full stride. (Literally, a full galloping stride.) Thankfully, he had enough scope to clear the fence, but holy cow, that was hella scary. As the rider pulls up, I hear her say very casually to her trainer, “Oh, I thought he was going to add a stride.” She didn’t seem to recognize just how dangerous that jump was, that she ought never ever have another one like it, and that it was her job as the rider to ensure that.
(3) Yesterday at Full Gallop in Aiken, a group of people were schooling over a baby fence to a training table under the guidance of a trainer. One rider looked at her hands intently through both fences, and the horse couldn’t even canter properly between the fences as a result. The horse muddled through, but he was clearly nervous and jumped poorly. The trainer never told the rider to look up, and they moved on after two rounds of bad jumping, leaving the rider to her poor form and the horse with less confidence than before. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.
I’m too new to eventing to say much of what’s wrong (and I have my own share of bad habits that I’m working hard to correct), but I am alarmed by the kind of riding that I see even on non-technical jumps. My sense is that people seem to be relying too much on the natural athleticism of their horses to just get over fences rather than developing the skills required to ride cross-country according to best (and safest) practice. That poor riding seems to be aided by trainers who aren’t demanding best practice, if they even know what that is (!?!).
Such problems cannot be solved by a change in format, I don’t think. Sure, perhaps greater demands would induce people to invest more in conditioning and training. Some people would do that. But others wouldn’t, and the result might just be even more injuries and deaths for horses and riders alike.
In any case, Denny Emerson has had some really good posts on this topic in the last day or so. I appreciate that, as I’ve been thinking a good bit about the risks of my sport lately.
On a related note, I’ve decided that I’m very happy to compete Lila at novice level again next year. We’re not ready for training level yet — and with her particular draft-cross build, she might never be ready.
That’s fine, because we’re going to work on being damn perfect over the smaller fences at novice level (2’11″). That’ll be far better for the development of my skills than trying to muddle her over bigger fences.
Plus, I’d never forgive myself if I destroyed her honesty over fences and her trust in me by pushing her beyond her limits. She’s such a good girl — so willing — and I want her to always enjoy cross-country as much as she does now. If that means staying under 3 feet forever with her, I’m happy to oblige. She’s my girl, and I want to keep her that way.
I’m sorry to report that my horse Phantom and I parted ways on Thursday afternoon, shortly after a ditch during cross-country schooling. She was scared and jumped it big. Immediately thereafter, I went left and she went right. I ended up unconscious on the ground, and she ran back to the trailer to her buddy Lila. (Poor Phanny didn’t mean to unseat me; she doesn’t have any meanness or screw-you in her, just fear.)
I woke up quickly, but I was pretty woozy for the rest of Thursday. (I got a CT scan that evening, and hooray, no bleeding!) So I just have a concussion. Basically, I got my bell rung, harder than I’d like. I wasn’t injured other than that, except that I bit my tongue. I was, of course, wearing a protective helmet and vest.
So now I need to take life gently for a few days. That’s not easy for me, but I’m going to work at it. I’m really eager to get on both horses again, although it was a real treat to watch Eric Horgan ride Phantom on Friday.
Anyway, the really good news is that I’ve made such good progress since that first night — to the point that I’m feeling pretty normal now. So I’m game to go ahead with Sunday’s broadcast of Philosophy in Action Radio. We’ve got some great questions on tap, and the first one is even relevant to my recent experience!
Yesterday, I bought two pairs of skinny jeans. Appalled by the thought that I’ve become a hipster, I consoled myself with “Well, at least I bought them at Wal-mart.” But then I realized that that means that I bought them ironically, which makes me even more of a hipster. *le sigh*
Back in November, Lila and I left the sub-freezing (and by that, I mean -12°F) weather of Colorado for a few days in warm Las Cruces, New Mexico for a horse trial.
Here’s our dressage round:
Here’s our stadium jumping round:
Lila was great in cross-country too — bold and forward. I was particularly pleased with how we jumped the ditch: I stayed up, and so Lila jumped it without a second glance. Alas, I don’t have any video because the USEF has banned helmet cameras due to safety concerns. (Hopefully, that will be temporary.)
We ended up in 5th place… which isn’t bad. If we’d just not had that unlucky rail down in stadium, we would have won. Them’s the breaks!
After being dormant for some time, the ridiculous website and Facebook page of “Checking Premises” has been removed. I can’t say that I’m surprised. I’m certainly not unhappy. The bad news is that the dogmatic wing of the Objectivist movement persists, and after the encouragement / tolerance it received from official quarters in recent years, I don’t think it’ll be dying the ignominious death it deserves any time soon. Still, at least it seems quieter these days.
In any case… whatever. Over the past few years, I’ve realized that the various problems in the Objectivist movement are really just very human problems, and I’ve seen them replicated in countless other communities, ideological and otherwise. Meanwhile, I’ll continue to do my own thing, knowing that I’m making countless people’s lives better in the process. That makes me happy!
Just one last thing, because it’s just so awesome: