Applejack, Applejewel, and a Valentine memory

Hello, everyone, Applejack here. Tornado asked me to close out this book of short tales with a word on my own recollections , and the current holiday going on right now reminds me of a certain stallion travel guide writer. Ahhh, Tenderhoof... I remember the big dope, and the whole silly mess with Rarity trying to be something she wasn't. It was for Ponyville's founder's day, and Rarity was being a total goofball trying to act like a farmer to impress an out-of-town unicorn. Too bad she didn’t come to her senses, until I showed her just how idiotic she was acting. But that day was a major turning point in my life... one in which helped make me the proud and stubborn mare I am today.

You know, I recall two particular things about that whole fiasco; One, looking back from my current age and vantage point, I actually love that frilly outfit of Rarity's I put on. (It's still in my wardrobe, magically preserved. I wear it to most formal occasions). Oh yeah, I admit it... I used to cringe at anything frilly or froo-froo in my younger days, you wouldn't of caught me dead in some of that junk Rarity made. But when I dressed up in that elegant gown of hers, it kinda, wellllll... felt nice. The truth is, a small part of me actually liked putting that dress on, ditching the accent, and putting on the airs aunt and uncle Orange instilled in me. It felt like I was a totally different pony, and it was actually fun trying something new.

Of course, that didn't change who I was inside. I still loved workin' the farm, and I still loved bucking apples and being s rough and tumble cowfilly. But after many many decades of endless bucking of apples and being covered in mud... well, lets just say it can wear on a mare. Applejewel, a part of myself that came into existence that day, became a seed that grew and grew inside me. Suddenly crawling through the filth and hauling apples in the hot sun for the rest of my unnaturally long life, began to seem less and less appealing, I began looking on my now aged fashioneista friend, and wished my hooves were as clean and shiny as hers once were, and my mane coifed instead of looking like one of the snorting pigs in the sty. And while didn't feel right when my aunt and uncle tried to push it on me as a filly, those fancy ways I so scorned didn't look so bad as I grew older and older.

Oh, I fought it... B'zekre knows I fought it. Why the hay would a member of the Apple family want to work in fashion? But when my family and the girls and Sweet Apple acres were gone... well, there was nothing keeping Applejack propped up anymore. I became Applejewel, starting a new life as a fashioneista, and patterning myself on my deceased friend. I worked with all sorts of fashion mares as an assistant, getting better year by year, and outliving most of them. I'm sure you've all heard how horrible I was at making dresses when the girls' cutie marks got switched. Well, after about a century of pracite I got almost as good as Rarity. And the public didn't just like my dresses, they loved them. And Apple Jewel became on of the hottest designers in Equestria at the time.

It was all an act to protect my secret... at first. I spoke in fancy, and shirked away from mud, laughed at all the unfunny jokes the trendsetting ponies who were my customers made. But the truth is, I actually became that girly giggling ball of elegance I was pretending to be. I actually liked making and wearing those dresses. I actually hated getting dirty and muddy. I didn't have to work to talk without my accent... because I wasn't even thinking in the accent in my head anymore. Applejack... Applejack literally died, and Applejewel became the real pony. I made many fine dresses, attended many formal events and parties, and dated many of the most elegant stallions in all of old Equestria (and I got to hand it to Firefly, the stallions of today have far more stamina than the stallions of yesteryear). AJ was simply became the faded memory it is still to me today.

Of course, many of AJ's old personality traits gradually resurfaced in me over the centuries. But today I'm more of a ratio of 60% Applejewel, and 30% AJ (The other ten percent is my infamous crankiness and sarcasm I gained in this lifetime). I'm always the first to volunteer to wear a frilly dress whenever Buttons and Bow Tie put on one of thier fashion shows, and I hate getting my hooves dirty- that's why I pick my apples now with my mouth from the trees, instead of bucking them. And don't even think about asking me to put my hooves in that dirty mud- there are bugs and worms in there, ew ew ew! My point is that ponies can change over time. And something that happens in just one instance, can have a profound effect on you for the rest of your life.

And the other thing I remember, was that Tenderhoof was really silly in the way he was trying to impress me. See, I never actually said I didn't like him for who he was. If his approach had been different, he would have had me eating out of his hoof. And Rarity would've been making me a wedding dress a few months after the founder's day festival. See, the thing I didn't like about him was he was being insincere about who he was, and how he was coming on to me. If he had just walked up to me, said he liked the farm and my way on life, and openly and honestly conveyed he liked me, I probably would've been trying to get his attention. But I didn't care for an insincere stallion then, and I most certainly don't care for one now.

That was the idea that Lightning understood when I met him. Sure, I was mean to him at first. But because he cared for who I actually was and always acted like himself, I was able to get to know and fall in love with him for the real stallion inside. And that's why my millennia of loneliness came to an end... aaaand why I have a hubby and Cherries Jubilee is still a single old nag. If you're reading this, in your face, cherry slurper! You won't be able to find a stallion of your own in TWO thousand years! HA! *Ahem*, anyway... I hope you all have a nice Valentine's day, and get to sped it with that very special somepo-er, someone. Thank you for listening to this old apple picker for awhile. (Great Horsemaster, I'm starting to sound like Granny Smith!)