Cantered Midnight for a little bit...then our trot was ATROCIOUS. Worse than anything that's happened in real life--he flung his head up, my arms went flying up and out (think airplane arms) and I looked like a loon. So I tried to get it back and once I got a normal non-head-flingy trot I stopped.
Klein's owner had left the ring to talk to someone, and my dad came up to me with a helmet that had a paisley green helmet cover in his hand that somehow I knew belonged to that blogger. He was like, "Look! We can take it home!"
But I said, "No, you can't just take other people's helmets," and he tried to convince me it was like a Rolex souvenir but I went and put the helmet on a table by the arena.
And that was my dream. Interpretations welcome. I was going to post it as a comment on The Jumping Percheron but I can't decide if that would be creepy or not. I had to put it somewhere though because it was just so oddly detailed and ordinary-feeling.
P.S. I'll put in a real link to her blog later but the Blogger iPad app sucks and doesn't have the capability to link from what I can tell. It is in my blog roll at the lower right though.