Well. Maybe I Didn't Think That One Through.

CS just got my brother a job here in Hobbs because he lost his job this week. Apparently, I will now be living with my brother soon.

That may get in the way of my "lifestyle". I'm not sure yet. But it just might.

What would you do with a 20 year old going on 14 boy in your house?

Let Me Tell You

No, Hobbs doesn't have a a Target. We only get to shop at Wal-Mart and Albertson's. All my furniture comes from Rent-A-Center. New Mexico is a flat wasteland of despair. My apartment must have once been occupied by a smoker because all my clothes are tinged with the smell of an ashtray. I haven't met anyone my age here. No one sells Canada Dry Flavored Club Soda here. Fall never happened. Colorado is hours and hours away. There is no red-headed niece to come over on the weekends.

But I am happy.

I have a job I enjoy. Even if some days I want to throw broken bottles at the bad kids. I have great fellow teachers to eat lunch with. I go to aerobics class in the morning and work my butt off. I have a walking path with Hunter. I have my own apartment, stocked with everything thing I need. I have wireless internet. I get to cook whatever sounds good to me. (As long as I have a starch, meat, and a veggie.) I am so well taken care of by CS.

Maybe my life back in Colorado had a few perks, but it was nothing like my life now. I am happy now because I am here with someone who makes me happy. That's all I really need.

Got Tattoos?

We sure did.

MeL Jayden, where did you get those tattoos?
Jayden: At a bar!
Melanie: You're so fired.
Jayden: Whatever, Dweeb!

Sweet Potato Makes Me Cry!

Go read this.

Ok, you're back now? Was that not the funniest thing you've read? I laugh until I cry when I read that, every time. Maybe it's because I have my own Sweet Potato Thief in Huntykins. I can relate. I read it during Advisory today, and one of my student's saw me and asked me what I was doing. She wasn't amused by my answer. But who cares. She was tardy today.

I just have to get through some Springboard online testing tomorrow, and then I'm home free! I'm so excited! I have so much I want to do, and so little time. Christmas break is going to be well appreciated. That will be 10 days of un-interrupted goofing off. I'll probably be broke broke at the end, but it will be a good time! This is why I have a savings account, and I know how to use it. And I'm talking about mine, not CS's. He has his own. I may or may not control it with an iron fist (if you ask him) but it's for his own good. I can't help it if I'm good with money. It's part of my make-up. Right next to the gene that demands I collect useless things, like empty wine bottles for an unforeseen reason. I'm pretty sure that it's not going to go away, this compelling desire to save, save, save. It's only going to get worse. Honestly, is that such a bad thing? I'm never going to be like my grandparents, and scrimp and worry about spending any money. But I'm also not going to be like my father, who spends like it's literally going to burn up if it's not out of his hands in mere minutes. I want to have a decent amount available at all times. An "In Case of Emergency and There is No Other Option" fund. Before I moved, I was saving up to move. Now, I'm saving up "Just in Case." In case something happens and CS can't work and we need to pay bills. In case I need to fly somewhere in short notice. CS may make good money at his job, but holidays and bad weather mean nada moolah for us. And we have BILLS, BILLS, BILLS. Destiny's Child ain't got shit on us. Between my loans, his truck, and our rent, we make it alright. But it'd be easy to be struggling. Like they say, "You make more, you spend more." Although, Lord knows what we spend it on. It's not like Hobbs offers us a whole lot of options. New Mexico is so Enchanting that I drive to Texas for cleaning supplies.

CS found this post yesterday and thought I wrote it yesterday. He didn't say anything about it all afternoon and it wasn't until evening that he said something about how he needed to make more money. A lot more money. To which I said "No you don't. Why do you think that?" He says"So you'll have kids with me." WHA? Finally I figured out that he read an old post from August a year ago, and thought I wrote it that day.

That'd be really nice of me, wouldn't it? Yeah, CS, I love you but ummm, there's no way we can have kids until you make about 25,000 dollars more a year. Sorry, that's just the way it is.

All in all, though. I am amused.

Welcome To Romance

My love brought pink roses to me today.

And then he trimmed the stems for me because children's scissors don't cut through stalks of that size. Toothpicks, perhaps.

*****


My week of Grades is finally over. What is it about Progress reports that cause children to finally motivate themselves to do work? The fact that they might be grounded for failing the easiest thing in the entire world? It's funny, too. how obsessed they can get about turning in work and checking their grades after. It's annoying, honestly. Do your work, check it later. No, I cannot just enter in a 90 right now and show you. Another quirky thing they do: When telling them the work they are missing, 9 times out of 10, they will say "But I did that" before you even tell them what it is they are missing. I've have whole conversations like this:

Me: You're missing a Night quiz, um...Quiz for....
Student: NO, I TURNED THAT IN.
Me: Um, hold on. Let me finish telling you what quiz it is.
Student: No, Miss. I took that.
Me: Well, I never got it.
Student: Maybe it's in my folder.

Riiight. Doubtful.

I don't remember learning to lie like that when I went to school.

What Are You Doing...Oh...How'd You Find That?

While I was making dinner, (ground beef with egg noodles and tomatoes and some spice) I happened to have a second and I waltzed into the living room to see what CS was doing online. He was reading a blog, actually.

Mine.

By the way.

For a second, I felt a whole lot of anxiety, but that faded away pretty fast. For as much as he's on the internet, I highly doubt he's going to make my blog his priority. Unless of course he wants to read stories about us for "insight" to the crazy. Although, he told me tonight that "I'm easy" so I don't think he's looking for relationship advice.

I guess to find the blog o'Hunter, you just have to use Google Blog search, type in my name, and click "Search the Web" and it will bring you right to my profile on NaBloPoMo.

Thanks, Internet! Making stalking easier since...1995? Or whenever MySpace started.

Should I?

So I'm making a cake. A cake I cannot eat until tomorrow at noon. I'll go back and edit in the link to the cake. For now, just know that it's from Smitten Kitchen and it's on the second page and you have to go to another website to get there. The batter was HEAVENLY and then I added chocolate chips, so I can just imagine that it's amazing. Pretty simple except for the part when I had to fold in the egg whites because my spatulas are cheap and they were all bendy instead of holding up to the batter. I'm sure it's fine though, the cake has puffed up nicely.

This will be the last mid-week dessert I made until after Thanksgiving break because next week we are only there for two days and I have things to pack! We're driving home on Wednesday and that's ok. I don't really like getting in at 1 AM but it is nice the next day when you have an entire day that's not taken up by things like driving 400 miles. I'm not sure what we are doing for the actual day of Thanksgiving. My mom's hosting dinner. But so is CS's grandparents in La Hunta, Florence, and somewhere else I'm blanking on the name. On of those dinners, I am not allowed to attend because I am a girlfriend, not a wife, and the significant others are not invited. Cool, huh! I'd understand if I wasn't really, really dating CS. Like maybe he just found me the night before at the bar and decided he didn't want to face his family alone. But I'm not a Rent-A-Center girlfriend, I'm the live-in kind. The one who makes sure his bills are paid on time, and puts his money into a savings account, cooks his dinner, folds his laundry, and once I even washed his truck. Needless to say, we aren't going there for Thanksgiving Dinner.

I'm concerned about this though. Because I refuse to spend Thanksgiving away from him. We live together, our lives are combined. But just because we "aren't married" doesn't mean that it's ok for us to have seperate holidays. I don't see the point of this relationship if we aren't going to make an effort to blend our backgrounds into one. Do I want to drive 2 hours to get to another dinner? No. But do I want to spend time with both our families? Yes, of course. We'll have to make it work. And I just hope that there is a way for us to come together. It's about compromise, between CS and I, as well as with our families.

But, man, if we go to both dinners? I am going to be one stuffed chic.

Blackbird?

No, no. Not a bird!

Sarah B, the one of the infamous Duncan Donuts, has been my friend since...forever? I'm blanking on when we became close, but I know there was a point in time that we decided to be each others hilarious entertainment. Junior year, perhaps? DD, you tell me.

While at OWU, DD was very busy with things like school and homework, RA-ing, and a few boys here and there. One of my first memories involve standing outside the Newport with Sarah, Sally and Sarah's BF. It was freezing cold, but none of us were wearing coats because you don't want to have a coat at a concert, sillies! We took turns walking into an Urban Outfitters just down the street. We were going to a Howie Day concert, but really we were there because Matt Nathanson was opening and he is our hero. Who else tells you that Clusterf*ck isn't allowed on radio airwaves? That's what I thought.

She lived in the Palace too. She made beer bread once. And pumpkin bread. She has cute, flippy hair and she drinks wine on a regular basis. I consider that a friendship-deal maker. She has a dog she can dress up, and I like him! Her bed is always perfectly made. I think she even has pillow shams. We have matching, swirly, and beaded shoes.

I spent part of my Senior year Spring Break in Cleveland with Sarah. She took me to a candy factory, I still have a white chocolate bunny. We went downtown to a fabulous fresh produce market in an old train station building. We also went to the Little Italy part of Cleveland and had lunch at a little place that I recall was odd, but I can't remember why. It was cold and snowy that time I visited, and I had just come back from four days in West Palm Beach, Florida but I recall all of my visit in snowy Cleveland with great joy.

Our next adventure came later, after graduation, when we decided to road trip it to DC. I was driving when we finally arrived in DC, and it's not easy to drive a stick while trying to get through three lanes of rush hour DC traffic and DD is yelling "YOU HAVE TO GET OVER. NOW." Just let me tell you. After that, we ditched the car and spent a few days walking/Metro-ing our way through DC to see everything. "Because it's LAME" can still elicit giggles from me in random quiet moments. Martini bars, squid, hookas, and getting her hooked on Vera Bradley are the highlights of our trip.

She is my friend I know I can spill anything to, right away, without worrying if she's going to be upset. We don't email or chat on the phone like others might, but there have been countless hours of AIM conversations in the past two years. I almost had her convinced to move to Colorado. She did have me convinced to come to Columbus. We're going to Chicago next.

Wanna come? Bring wine.

Click, Lock, Drop

I lost my keys this morning.

Funny thing about that?

Losing my keys has been the "worst thing that could happen to me" since I've moved down here. Mostly because there is no way I can break into my house if I lock the dead bolt. No entry through windows like at my house at home. Hell, these windows don't open in the slightest (fire hazard?). Also, I have no spare key to my car here. I lose that and I have no vehicle.

So I was a tad bit worried this morning at the gym when I discovered that I didn't leave them in the front seat like I thought I had when I couldn't find them in my pocket on my walk. They weren't on the street. They weren't inside the gym. Just vanished. Usually, when Hunt and I start a walk, he gets all excited and holds the leash in his mouth and bounces all around me, and I get into it with him and we hop down the street for a bit before settling into a nice pace. I thought maybe my keys got jounced out during all the hopping, but they weren't on the street. One nice man from aerobics class offered to help me look, and we took off jogging down the street to an empty field I walk through to let Hunter do his business. As we are searching in the weeds, a couple walks past and they are holding my keys hostage. Turns out they found them on the ground by the gym, realized they belonged to me, and continued on their walk in hopes that they would pass me to return them. Hurrah! Then nice aerobic man and I jogged back to the gym. So this morning, I had 45 minutes of "Weight Lifting to Music" followed by a (bouncy) 1 mile walk, then a 1 mile jog. I feel bad for Hunter , mostly, because he stayed in the car while I went to look the the keys and he missed out on the jogging.

Also, the car alarm was blaring because it doesn't like it when you unlock the doors from the outside.

For The Folks Back Home

The Back Yard. I say that loosely, because it's mostly concrete except for a tiny patch in the back. In summer, there are three 5 o'clock bushes and the fence by the gate is covered with morning glories. It's the only redeeming part of the "yard".

















The living room is one large space that also contains the laundry closet. My walls are mostly bare. I owe nothing large enough to cover them. These pictures make me sad, it looks as if I don't live here. It's so empty and stark.

















I made CS buy that TV stand so I would no longer have to look at the Rubbermaid bin that used to act as a TV stand. The bin is still in the living room. It's underneath the window. So much for that plan.

















My kitchen is divided from the living room by a center wall that houses the heat/air conditioner. It creates two entries into the kitchen, but it's annoying. That's why the table is right next to the couch and two of the four chairs are useless.


















The kitchen, and the kithen cow. I love my coffee maker and my toaster oven.

















My bedroom. Also bare. Except for that tiny little shelf and the wire candle holder above it.

















My windowsill. I keep books there. And my peacock stained glass wall hanging.

















The bathroom. I have a shower curtain with fish on it. They have googly eyes.
















The extra bedroom. Which is really just floor space to hold all the things we don't have closet space for. Also, most of CS's clothing. He never wears it, so it's rather useless to hang it up. At least, that's my explaination for why we've lived here for four months and it's still in bags.

Where Once Again Hunter Gets Attacked By Nature

This came in through the front door last night. CS and I were watching TV and Hunter starts making this horrid sneezing, choking noises. I lean over to see if maybe he was trying to eat a sticker that someone tracked into the house (He does that, eats prickly stickers for some reason) and I see a large bug scuttle away from him. I shriek "Ew" and then "Ah, Chris, it's a scorpion!" He finally coersed the little pincher into a ziplock so we could look it up on the internet and take it to the vet if need be. I don't think it actually stung Hunt, since his face didn't swell to comical proportions. Unlike the last two times he's gotten into a fight with an insect and LOST.

The scorpion is no longer in the house. I made CS take it with him to work since I didn't think I could convince him to kill it. And we are not letting it loose in the driveway to return to my front door. No way! Apparently, they are common here and the sting isn't terrible but I'm in no hurry to get one. They better not be able to climb stairs.

Where's The Wine?

I started asking for wine at 2:30 today.

It's been a long week. One thing about teaching school is that it's never the same. It always changes. One day it's PLC, the next it's 6th period. I have to deal with everything from boys who think they are too cool to shut the fuck up, to girls that think the best time to share the gossip is during an lecture, to phone calls to a mother of a son who thinks Anarchy is cool and work is for suckers. I had a snobby little brat tell me to "Hold ON, MISS. I have to tell her this." but then got the message when I unleashed on her. No, little girl. I may look like I am your age, but I'm not. I've already dealt with rich bitches who think that they run the world and can tell all the little people what to do. Sorry, I wasn't afraid of the Tri-delt blondes so you sure as fuck don't frighten me. And yes, I think the girl that decides to tell another girl that she better not be lying or she'd going to take her boots off and kick some ass is an idot. Control yourself. It's much more becoming. Also? Go out to the hall.

So, after a long week and one strawberry margarita, I'm laying in bed reading "The Time Traveler's Wife" for the third time.

I Follow, You Go

For all the words I've written down in the past few years, I have said so few of them aloud. For someone who often needs reassurance, I seldom give any. Or, in my eyes, I'm not very free with my emotions. I expect someone to assume that because I do this...it means that...but maybe that's not how we all see. For the most part, with CS, I've needed little encouragement from him about us. But sometimes I wonder if I need to break out of my silent admiration and say to him what I'm thinking about him. I think he deserves that. And not just because he pays half of my bills. Yes, half. The student loan portion, actually. I've got the rest covered, for the most part. I just take his card and go online shopping. Just kidding! Mostly.

Anyways. CS. He is unlike anyone I've ever been attracted to. I, personally, think we are more alike than he does. But I didn't explain to him why I think that, so he disagrees. I think this because, unlike the other people I've been involved with, we grew up in the same place. We have roots in Fremont Co. And while I've been running away from that since I left in 1997, I find some comfort in it now. He commented once that he never thought he'd find someone from his home town. Just like me, he left after high school. Just like me, he's been back a few times but has no intention of moving in down the street from his family. Only those who come from a small town can understand the simultaneous desire to be there and to be far, far away in the same moment. We've outgrown it, but it's still home.

To be honest, I'm quite unsure what to say about CS. He is an extention of me, a part of my being that I cannot fathom how to explain us. There are so many things I don't know about him. But I don't care. What's the rush? I know who he is to me, what he is with me, and how I feel when I'm with him. It's not perfect by any means. But it's honestly real.

What does he do to me? He opens my car door, everytime. On long car rides, I always end up putting my feet on the consule and he grabs them and rubs my feet for miles. He holds my hand when we walk places. He texts me randomly to tell me he's thinking of me. He actually wants to be involved in my life. As in, my life is his life. Our life.

And now that I'm completely smitten with my boyfriend, I'm going to go cuddle with the dirty boy on the couch.

Role Reversal

Before I started going to the gym at 5 AM, I always made fun of CS for falling asleep by nine. Guess who didn't see the end of CSI NY (Texas time) because she was nodding off in her chair? Oh, that'd be me. In my defense, I get my second wind back if I get up after such a quick nap. I can fall asleep for fifteen minutes then get up, blink a lot, scowl for a bit, and then be just fine. I just made CS lunch for tomorrow, did dishes, and had a snack. All in 10 minutes. And now I'm in a chipper mood. This is bad because I want to be sleeping in 15 minutes and that's not going to happen like I want.

What is it about that extra half hour in the morning, from 5:30 to 5, that makes me feel so exhausted by nine at night. I go to bed earlier, and still feel the effects. Maybe I just need to train my body to this new time. Or stop my body from waking up at 430. Naturally.

Body. You are a jerk. Sleep in as much as you can.

Ssss-FAWK!

I blame yesterday on CS. He asked me last night "Have you posted everyday?" and I said "Yes, but I need to post today." When he asked me that I remember thinking "Oh, he does listen to me..." and then I forgot to post. I wish I had no moral code. I'd back-date something. But the guilt. It burns me!

I think part of my neglect to NaBloPoMo last night was the fact that I was ready for bed at 9. Right after House ended, I turned my head against the couch and I could have doze off immediately. But then CS wanted me to rub his back, and I've gotten out of that for the past two days now, so I gave in. By 9:30 I needed to get up and pack lunch, then I decided to do the dishes and I was in bed before 10. Of course, I woke up at 4:30 and decided not to go to the gym and walk Hunt at 5:30 instead. I'm not sure if I walked so much as I hobbled. My thighs are killing me. I'm still flinching when I walk down the hall.

Anyways. I will post about a new person twice today. I'm going to make a list and plan who I write about each day. That way, it's less of a dilemma.

In other news, I wrote a kid up for going behind my desk and taking candy. Idiot. I'm not able to see everything they do, but occasionally I catch something. I would like to know who threw a paper ball in my direction though. 2nd Period. HATE.

And Then I Met Sally

*I really want something sweet right now, but I'm not sure what. So I'm delaying the inevitable.*

Before I came to OWU, I heard stories about a girl named Sally. She was from Ohio, she took a politics class, and she didn't have a roommate. When I came to OWU, I didn't live with her that year but we had Geology 110 together at 8 AM on Tuesday Thursday. Together, we suffered through long, boring lectures in the dark and endured the sweltering heat of an especially warm spring with the heat turned on! The next year, Sally and I were suite mates along with two other girls. That year, sophomore year, was pivotal to me as well as my relationship with Sally. She and I became close, once I started therapy and began to "recover" from my first ever relationship and break-up. She took me home for Easter, to decorate Bunny Cakes, learn how to knit, and introduce me to the crazy that is Toledo. I've never looked back. She's always been the one I can tell anything to, despite the many hesitations I might feel before I finally spill it out. I always worry most what her reaction will be, and it's only gotten me in trouble once.

We only lived together one year. I went off to be a Feminist and she lived in a Palace. That's part of why we work, I think. We have always been able to be each other's wailing wall but never the cause of the wailing. At least while we were at school. We'd have weekly dinners, grocery store trips, and a lot of crazy theme parties. She was my Republican Ally, my Oscar Night Date, my SLU wanna-be, my SCG. Senior year, we used to email each other during the day with random crush citings, random tidbits, dinner plans, bar plans, things professors said to us, etc. just to keep each other updated on the minute details of our busy lives. We had different majors, different schedules but that didn't stop us from knowing everything the other did. Or didn't do, in a lot of cases.

Most of my best stories involve Sally. Like when I fell down the stairs at the Winter Palace. I wasn't concerned about my fall, I was wondering if anyone saw her making out with a boy who's name begins with E as they rushed past her room to the stairwell. Or the boy who told me I was "So loud" as I laughed while walking past him. Or the night we dressed up as Rock stars and ended up posing before the Bush/Cheney sign in my window. The weekend we spent on her Bay. Or the countless cookies we made over Thanksgiving.

I may never understand what caused me to leave Ohio after graduation. I had no reason to be home, except for the fact that I could go home. I always say that my friends in Ohio are my soul-mates, and Sally certainly fits in right at the top. Even after college, we still managed to keep the bonds intact. But then my life became stagnate and I struggled to keep my former life part of my present "Party it up" lifestyle. Things were hard, and I didn't know how to fix our relationship. It wasn't until this fall that I felt the return of the SCG/JAO lifestyle. Our conversations are lively, and packed with information, concerns, exchange. Anticipations of visits, places new to us. It's refreshing. It's how it should be. If my friends truly are my soul mates, then the honeymoon is over and the rest of our lives are ahead of us.

How's that for cheese.

Umm, Where Do I Start?

NaBloPoMo Daily Plan: Write about someone. But who do I start with? The first person is monumental. Right? Doesn't first mean favorite? I don't have one! I can't pick my most influential person. There isn't just one. Could never be one. Unless I have a child. Then that can be the most important person in my entire life. As I'm sure it will be.

So let's start with Abe. My youngest brother. The one who I will always see as a 12 year old boy. That's the age he was when my parents started the divorce. And the age where he virtually disappeared from my life. Even though he's graduated from High School and entered the Real World, I still don't see him as an adult.

Abe was born a month early. I remember the night he was born, I snuck down the stairs to watch all the people in my living room. He was born at home, but rushed to the hospital where he spent weeks in an incubator. Tubes in his mouth and needles stuck in his head. They said he would have asthma. He doesn't.

Years later, one evening at home, my parents were calling his name and laughing about how he was ignoring them. He wasn't. He couldn't hear them. Because he was premature, he lost most of his hearing. As a child, he wore hearing aids. Those ugly tuck-behind the ear kind with blue ear molds. Now days, he watches you when you speak but he wears nothing to aid him. It's quite amazing, actually. For as little hearing as he has, he functions wells and I often forget that he cannot hear as well as I can.

Abe was my favorite sibling growing up. We meshed well. Our other brother looks more like me, but Abe and I are more alike. Abe had a wonderfully scratchy voice as a baby, and I love watching home videos for that reason. One of my favorite clips happened one morning when he was still a baby. I was mad at my mom, and I took a stuffed Grover and started smashing him against Abe's crib. I kept saying "I'm tired of you!" each time I whacked Grover and Abe laughed so hard he fell over.

Now days, Abe lives at home with my mom. He came back to us two years ago, just out of the blue. It's hard for him, I think, to accept that our dad isn't worth us. I feel bad for him because he's been cut out of that part of our family. While I'm still somewhat accepted, he's being punished for leaving my dad after standing by him so long. But Abe couldn't take it anymore. I don't know how he lasted so long. Insanity and irrationality isn't easy to put up with, especially when you are a 17 year old senior in High School. They already push the limits, and to have a father who grounds you for weeks at a time would be quite frustrating. Even though Abe isn't the poster child for a young adult, he's certainly not a bad egg like our other brother. Abe might be quick to fall in love with a girl who pays him any attention, or be easily influenced by someone else, he's trying to make something of himself. To make a life for himself that will be better than the one our dad or our brother have chosen.

Even if he's a four-eyed, brace-face right now.

A Horrible Thing

Hunter and I took a walk this morning. Just like we do every morning. Same route as always. We were walking down a semi-busy street. It doesn't have bad traffic, but it's nearly impossible at 8 AM to have no cars driving past you as you walk down the road. Here in Hobbs, there aren't many dogs around. People keep them penned up in backyards, and that's only about 5 of the 100 houses I walk by every morning. This morning, as we walked down the road, I saw someones little lapdog playing in a yard with another dog, or possibly a cat. I've seen this dog before, it belongs to an older woman who lives in one of the 5 houses on that side of the street. The houses are clumped together, littered with broken cars, junk, and a few signs warning trespassers. It's not a very welcoming part of the neighborhood. I have only seen that woman and her dog out once, and that one time, her dog did choose to follow us barking down the sidewalk for a while. But this morning, the dog was outside her fence, alone. Hunt and I were walking on the opposite side of the street and I thought that would deter the dog from crossing over to us. Unfortunately, I was wrong. The dog decided to step out into the street and barrel toward us just as a car came rushing by. There was no time for the car to stop. Or swerve. I couldn't do anything to prevent it. What's worse, is that I could do nothing to help. The car that hit the dog didn't stop. Neither did the other three cars that came by right after. I couldn't let Hunt get close to it and there was no place to tie him up. No one was around, and I couldn't figure out how to get to the woman's house. I didn't know what to do. I had just seen a horrible thing and no one could help me. I eventually walked away because I simply didn't how to help. I was afraid of finding the woman, afraid she would be mad at me for her dog's death. When I finally walked away, I just broke down crying. I couldn't even get the dog off the road because I couldn't let my dog go for fear that he would get hurt or just be annoying while I moved the dog away. I wanted to be home so I could call my mom. I called the Police as well, and asked them if they could send Animal Control to the house and take care of it, and I found out that someone already called it in.

I felt so bad. I still feel bad. I know it's not my fault. That I didn't cause that dog to chase us, nor was there anything I could have done differently. But I will never forget the sounds I heard when it happened and the way the poor dog died before my eyes. I've seen animals die, but never like this. This was violent and done to a pet. Not to livestock raised for food and done with as much humanity as possible. I feel bad for the woman who lost her dog, even if it's an animal I pretty much despise. Maybe, hopefully, next time will end happily. And the lesson I learn is: Never let your pets run loose.

Do Not Answer

Tonight, after getting back from Holidaze, I was messing around online for NaBloPoMo and my phone rang with a Colorado number. Let this be a lesson to you! Do not answer those unknown calls from state you no longer reside! Be ye not stupid. It will be ex-boyfriends who haven't called you in months!

The conversation went like this:

BB: I can't believe you left tonight without saying goodbye.
Me: Huh? Who is this?
BB: You don't know who this is?
Me: Um...no. It's a Colorado number, but I live in New Mexico now. Who is this?
BB: I can't believe you don't know who I am. Are you going out tonight? Are you going downtown?
Me: Um, no I just got home. I've already been out for the night. Who is this?
BB: You don't know who this is? Huh. Maybe I'll tell you someday...click.

Me: WTF?

Of course it was BB. No one else from Colorado would call me like that. He must be already drunk and he thinks that he saw me in Canon and is upset I didn't acknowledge him. I, of course, wasn't in Colorado tonight. Haven't been in a while. And even though it was a Colorado number, I had a few moments where I thought it was Channing, a guy who lives here and was out to dinner with us tonight. He would call and ask me why I left without saying goodbye (we didn't tell him goodbye) and it didn't sound like BB, so I had no idea who it was until after we hung up. But now it all makes perfect sense. That whole exchange is classic BB. And I imagine there will be another phone call soon. Which is why his new number is: Matt DNA. (Do Not Answer)

NaBloPoMo Saga

Welcome to November. I'd like to the site, but I can't. I still haven't gotten Firefox like I should, so no linking is allowed.

Anyways. I've decided to post a blog everyday about someone I've come in contact with. Whether it be my best friends, old bosses, Professors, relatives, etc. Sort of a character sketch on a different person everyday and how they have impacted my life.

But I'm too tired tonight, so I owe ya'll two tomorrow.