Sunday, June 28, 2009

Well, I think it is time. Paul and I are talking seriously about getting a brother or sister for Daisy. When we first considered this idea, Daisy was only about 6 months old. At that point we thought that maybe we should give a her a little more time to grow up and come into her own. Maybe she would not be the kind of dog that would benefit from having a doggie companion. She is now 13 months old and I'm afraid the she most certainly is the kind of dog that would love a brother or sister. Her favorite thing in the whole world is romping around with another dog. I'm starting to feel a little sad for her when she is wandering around the house searching for a toy to keep her occupied or when she just sleeps most of the day. I try to take her on a good, long hike or to the dog park at least once a day but I know that she would be so much happier with someone to play with.

I have been looking at some dogs on the Rocky Mountain Lab Rescue web site. The woman who runs it thinks that there are three dogs that would be good candidates. Their names are Wilber, Gage and Bobbi. Take a look and tell me what you think :)

Monday, June 15, 2009



So I thought I would get a head start and buy the books that I will need for PA school. I just about fell out of my chair when I counted how many books I will be needing.... 21 to be exact! This is only the number of mandatory books I need to buy. There is a whole other list of "recommended" texts for the class. I'm exhausted just thinking about it!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

My White Trash Family

Okay, the title is a little harsh but I would like to begin by saying that my mom is excluded from this category!

So this post is meant to be amusing because personally, I just think it's hilarious. I have 6 cousins from my mom's brother Ron's marriage to a woman named Terry. She had five kids when they were married and then they had another together. I don't believe Terry has ever worked a day in her life. She sits on her ass, smokes pot, has kids and collects welfare. I have four cousins from my mom's brother Steve's marriage to a woman named Becky. I spent a lot of time with all of these cousins when I lived in Oklahoma. At that time we were all fairly poor but not white trash. My mom, dad and I moved to CA when I was 8. My Uncle Ron separated from Terry and moved to CA with his son when I was 17. I did not see any of my other cousins again until I was 23.

During the time that I had no contact with them I at least got updates through my Uncle Ron. My cousin Jamie had a baby when she was 13. She had another at 16. None of my cousins graduated from high school and all of the girls had had at least one baby by the age of 18. Most of my cousins where either addicted to meth or in prison for meth posession at one time or another.

When I was 23 Terry and her kids Jaime and Keesha moved to Quincy and lived with my Uncle and his son Eric. Keesha was 21 at the time and had her 3 year old daughter with her. Inevitably, Jerry Springer like drama ensued, Jaime became pregnant, my Uncle went to prison and his son went to a group home. None of these incidents were related to each other! ;)

I think that most Terry's kids are living either at her trailer or a trailer down the street in South Carolina. Keesha and Jaime have since had more babies; all of their children have different fathers and neither of them are in custody of all of their children. My cousin Angela had her children taken away when she was arrested for meth. My Uncle Steve now takes care of them. I recently found out that she now has another 3 mo. old and is remarried but has never contacted my Uncle to see about getting her other kids back. She does not work either.

I could go on and on but you get the jist. The reason I think this is funny is because I have no relationship with these people and I don't think I want one. I have distanced myself from them and feel no sympathy for them whatsoever. I do, on the other hand, have a great amount of sympathy for the kids they are bringing into the world.

The reason I posted about this is because through the wonderful creation that is myspace, one of my cousins has contacted me. Turns out that 4 of them live in Vernal Utah and they want me to come visit. I'm just not sure if I should alert Jerry before I go or if I should wait until I come back. J/k, I'm just really not sure if I want to go. I have no idea if they are still doing drugs or what kind of living conditions they are in right now.

Anyways, thanks parents for moving me to CA!!

Monday, June 1, 2009

The Incident

Since Paul brought it up and then left everyone hanging, I guess I will fill you in on what happened. I think that I was sleepwalking. That is the ONLY explanation that I can think of. Since Paul and I got here we have both had a terrible time adjusting to the schedule. We sleep all day and are up all night. When I wake up I am never sure if it is dawn or dusk. On this particular night it was late and I was having trouble getting to sleep. Paul and I had split a bottle of wine (maybe more like 1/3 to 2/3) when he decided to go play poker. I remember sitting in bed reading and realizing that it was pointless b/c by this time I was just groggy enough that I wouldn't remember what I had read in the morning and would need to re-read everything. I don't remember putting the book down. The next thing that I remember is standing outside the boat watching it sail away.

On the rhine there are multiple "step offs" in which boats are basically lowered into the next length of the river. They enter a kind of shoot or holding area while the water level is lowered. When this happens, cement walls on both side of the boat are so close that you can actually reach outside the boat and touch them. There are ladders extending from the bottom of these walls to the top. My only guess is that I climbed out of our open window and climbed up one of these ladders while our boat was stopped. The wierd thing is that I probably could've climbed back down and onto the boat but didn't "wake up" until the boat was already down the river.

I realized that I was in big trouble. It was about 2:30 in the morning at this point. My first thought was to see if there was anyone around the levee controling the water and get their attn. I banged on a few doors but no luck. There was a road nearby so I thought I should make for that and try to flag someone down. I had to jump two very tall metal fences in the process. This was very painful as I had on no shoes or socks, just some sweats and a tank top. I made it to the road but there was hardly any traffic. I saw a town about 5 miles away (I was up on a hillside) so I started walking. After about 15-20 minutes a car passed by and stopped. I was reluctant to ask for help because I didn't really want to be abducted! I approached the car and the person inside seemed genuinely concerned. Luckily they spoke a little English and I explained the situation. They said that there was a watch tower type station up the road along the river and that they would give me a ride there. It was a hard decision but my gut said that it was safe, so I hopped in.

The very kind driver took me to the station and waited while I knocked on the door. The worker/guard or whatever answered the door. The driver helped me to explain (the guard guy did not speak much English) my situation. So, I stayed there until the French police came to get me. By this time I had no idea what was going to happen. I did not know if I was going to jail or what. When the police arrived they were very nice, however, they spoke even less English than the gaurd. Finally, it was decided that the police would drive me to the next "step off" on the river to meet up with my boat. We drove for about 20 minutes and when we arrived we went into a building where another guy was working the levee. I can only guess at what transpired between him and the police but I think he informed them that he had made contact with the boat captain and the captain was now aware of the situation. My boat was not going to be at this point in the river for another 90 minutes though.

The police then drove me back to their station which looked more like a fire station. They were apperently the only two officers on duty that day. They took me by a bakery and bought something for me to eat and they gave me some socks. We spent about 45 minutes at the station then drove back to the river. This station was way out in the country so at least the drive was scenic! We got back to the river and waited another 15 min or so, then the boat came.

I was escorted down the stairs and onto the landing. It was so embarrasing. I was standing there with my hair a complete mess, wearing a tank top in 50 degree weather with sweat pants that were ripped beyond repair.. The captain came off the boat and tore into me. He was so pissed! He wouldn't even let me explain that my little adventure was not on purpose. Paul told me later that the captain assumed I had tried to jump off the boat and get back on but that my plan had failed. Anyways, I just put my head down and let him yell. Once back on the boat, Paul and I made a bee line for out room and slept the rest of the day.

Paul thinks that I must have hit my head on the cement wall which is why I don't remember. I had the window open in our room and was singing along with my iPod when he left the room. But I definitley remember trying to read after that. Who knows. I guess it will always be a mystery!