Losing Dogs and Revenge Against Demon Trucker

Started out the same as usual. Got up around noon, waiting on my sisters to get out of bed. Carrie's mother-in-law stopped by to drop off Carrie's niece Phoebe. They woke my sisters up. Then it took us three hours to finally get everyone out of the house. Carrie, Erin, Phoebe, our two dogs, and I piled into my little car. Wal-mart, fashion bug, stopped at dad's, stopped at Erin's, stopped back at Carrie's....
Then our day finally began at 5pm...go figure. That's how it goes in this family. We picked up a pack of flashlights because it was starting to get dark, and we all still had our hearts set on hiking. We walked for miles and miles through the creepy woods, the puppies running around free and ecstatic. Sometimes the trail was very narrow, somtimes we had to cross little gaps and climb over tree limbs. There's a spot in the trail where we have to cross the small creek in the shallow area to get to the other half of the trail. We were having a blast, and someone was playing Elvis loudly. "Your the devil in disguise."
Carrie and I had taken the dogs on this trail last weekend. And just like last weekend, a thought, an image flashed through my mind that I ignored. I had a bad feeling in my gut that we would lose one of the dogs. That she'd run off into the trees and we'd never see her again. After all, Kenni was only five months old and she disappeared from our yard for two weeks. Who knew what would happen should one of them become lost in the woods and ignore our calls?
But that was silly. Why whould they just wander off? They are very well behaved. When we call them to us, they come running. So, this thought of mine was absurd.
There was an area of the trail where you could see houses and the people's backyards. That was when I noticed Billy, Carrie's dog, wasn't with us.
"Guys, where's Billy?" I asked.
"Billy!" we all start calling out for her. Usually when they wander off into the woods, we just call for them and they come running back. Sometimes it takes them a few minutes. My dog Kenni was next to us, but Billy was nowhere.
"Billy, come on, let's go!"
Still no sounds. No jinggling of her collar, no rustling of the leaves. The four of us were shouting for her, staring off into the trees, still not dark out, but the night was only about thrity minutes away. Kenni stood at our feet, grinning from ear-to-ear, her tongue hanging out. She wasn't worried at all as she also swept her eyes around, searching the trees and bushes.
"Oh, my God, guys, where's Billy?"
After shouting and getting no results, we split up. This is just not like her. She always comes when we call her. Carrie and Phoebe went ahead on the path, Erin and I retraced our steps.
"Billy! Billy Bob, come on girl, let's go!"
Not a sound other than the music coming from a local's Saturday night.
"Billy Bob!"
We met up with Carrie and Pheebs, both parties unsuccessful in our searches.
"What if she wandered into a yard where there is a dog. She wouldn't listen to us if she found a dog."
Carrie and Phoebe took the trail toward the houses, planning to roam the neighborhood. Erin, Kenni, and I continued on the trail. I tied my scarf onto Kenni's collar, just to be on the safe side. I did not need her pulling a disappearing act as well, especially with the trail so close to homes and people. That's when they have trouble listening, when others are about.
"Kenni, where's Billy?" I asked her. "Find Billy, Kenni. Go find Billy."
She tugged Erin and I along the path, going so fast we were running. We ran through the trees, on narrow, overgrown paths, up hills, twisting further and further. My heart was racing and my asthma was kicking in. The sky was growing darker and I wanted to cry. Did we lose Billy forever? Was it my fault for thinking one of the dogs would get lost?
The trail we were on was suddenly not a trail anymore. It just disappeared and we were in the woods. Erin and I decided to turn around. Trees all look alike if you have no footpath to follow. We almost made a wrong turn in our trek back, but I suddenlly saw what I think was a tiny, rusted truck canopy. Suddenly we could hear Carrie and Phoebe.
"Guys stay where you are, we're coming to you," Carrie told us. We met up on the path. Billy was still MIA.
I was almost to the point of crying and Carrie was freaking out.
"I am not leaving here without my dog!"
"We'll stay all night if we must," I told her, waving my flashlight.
We decided to head toward the car, hoping maybe Billy was near the pond. Maybe she didn't follow us any further?
We were coming around a corner a few minutes later, shouting her name.
"Billy!" Erin shouted. Sure enough, there she was around the corner. She saw us and her tail went mental. Kenni ran to her like she was chasing the geese at the park we always take them. Billy ran to us, grinning and puffing, her rolly-polly body vibrating in her excitement to see us. I gave her a little swat on her back.
"Billy you don't do that! You don't go off on your own," I told her, as if she were a child. We were all kneeling down, hugging her and petting her. She must of thought it was her birthday or something. But I think she'd been as scared as we were. She was probably wandering around in the bushes, smelling wonderful smells of dead animals and bugs, when suddenly she looks up and realizes she can't see us or hear us. She's the biggest chicken scardy-cat I know, so she must have freaked when she realized we weren't nearby. We searched for a good fifteen to twenty minutes.
The hike back to the car, we kept her in our sights the whole way. I lead the way with the puppies wandering through the trees before me. Carrie, Erin, and Phoebe lagged behind. Every couple paces Carrie would holler at me, asking if I could still see both dogs. They pulled out their flashlights. It went from a slightly darkening sky to almost black in a few minutes. We were stumbling along, flashlights lighting our way. It had definately been an adventure. And with the dogs playing in the creek and pond, they both smelled like dead fish...Wonderful.
After a stop at Barnes & Noble for dinner, we headed home.
That's when we had our second big scare.
I was driving along somewhere between 65-70 miles/hour in a 70 zone. Minding my own business in my tiny little Nissan Sentra. Suddenly a huge, eighteen-wheeler gets over behind me, on my ass, nearly hitting my bumper. Carrie starts yelling at me to speed up. He probably didn't see us? Stupid truck.
Then, for the next ten minutes, I have him following on my bumper, turning his brights on, purposely trying to blind me. We are all freaking out cause we have this huge truck practically touching my bumper with his brights on and shinning in my face. I always turn my mirrors at odd angles at night, cause I have sensitive eyes and can't stand the lights reflecting, so his brights weren't hardly in my eyes at all. But still, he was doing this on purpose, this reckless driving, just to piss us off. What was his problem? Was he drunk? Then he starts weaving in and out of traffic, so I'm thinking this bastard very well could be. So I get over in the slower lane, cause I want to get behind this bastard so I can get his license, company, and truck number. My sister's husband is an over the road trucker, she goes with him, she knows the ropes with these companies. I want this ass fired. He could kill someone with this behavior.
So, I'm now going about fourty-five, but I still can't get behind him. He was suddenly going slow, too. He didn't want us to get any info from the back of his truck. Luckily there were three people in my car keeping eyes on him, so eventually we get behind him, then beside him, two cell phones out saving info from his truck. This bastard is going down. This sort of driving is absolutely unacceptable.
The second I get home, I pull out my laptop and google the truck company, find a number, and call.
The lady didn't seem to care.
"Hello?" She says.
Umm...
"Is this Short and Sassy Trucking Company?" I ask. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that is it's real name.
"Yes," she told me. She can't even answer the phones right. You state your business name when you answer the phone so people know they have the correct number.
I tell her I have a complaint to make about a driver.
"Okay," she says. Then silence.
I have never had to call and complain about a Semi before, she should have been asking questions or something, walking me through this. She didn't say anything. I have always been shy when it comes to the phone. I hate talking on them. But I am so angry at this trucker...
"I have his License, his VIN number..."
"Okay," is all she says. I could have reached through the phone and strangled her. I don't know what info she needs to figure out who this asshole is. Tell me what numbers you need...
So I give her everything I have. I tell her eveverything he did.
"Okay." I want to choke her so she stops saying okay.
Silence.
Finally she says, "Is there a number where I can reach you if I need any more information?"
I give her Carrie's number. I get way too many unknown calls on my phone, I probably wouldn't anwer. I also give her Carrie's name, first and last. I really knew this woman couldn't care less when she didn't ask for the last name spelling. I can barely spell Carrie's last name, I know this woman can't. But she didn't ask, I wonder was she even getting any of this down.
Well, they are going to get sick of me calling. I plan to call again in the morning to see if anything was done. I will keep calling until I hear this jerk was fired. That's how pissed off I am about his driving. That's how bad his driving was. I'm not normally a war-path kind of person. Despite how I sound in my blogs, I am usually a quiet person, meek, much as I hate to admit it. I usually shrug things off rather than having to face any kind of conflict, rather than having to face people in a conflict. But I will pull out my backbone when someone has gone too far. This bastard who shouldn't even have a driver's license and definately no trucker's license has gone too far. He tailgated the wrong woman, let me tell you. What if there was a pregnant lady or a baby in the car he thought it was okay to tailgate? What if he'd hit me? I'm this asses worst nightmare, let me tell you... He's going to be unemployed if I have anything to say about it. If I have to, I will take his plate number to the police station. Something will be done about this.
And that's all I have to say about that!

New Baby, Old Car

The entire weekend of the 12th and the 13th I spent with my hand on my best friend's belly. Her daughter was kicking, ready to get out. Most of the pregnancy was spent with my poor friend on bedrest, Missy Lynn was impatient to arrive, but it was too early. Then, finally, it was safe for her to have her baby anytime. So, Sami being impatient to hold her daughter in her arms, decided she needed some raspberry leaf tea, which is rumored to help induce labor. We bought it, drank tons of the stuff as we wandered the mall all day. It must have worked, because just last weekend, her baby arrived. I spent all of that weekend in and out of the hospital, then in and out of the children's hospital where her daughter was in the NICU. I had her twelve year old son with me all weekend, and I got him off to school Monday morning. My sister took over after that because I work for a living and had to get back to it. I used an entire tank of gas in two days going from the children's hospital to Sami's home and back again numerous times. And let me tell you, that baby is the sweetest baby to ever grace the face of our earth. She has the perfect shaped nose, hair like her brother's, soft and light, and lots of it. She has such little toes, hands, her little ears. So sweet. I held her today after work as she slept on my chest. I didnt want to let her go, but had to eventually because I wanted to make it to my sister's house in one piece. I slept two hours last night, and I knew that any moment I was going to fall asleep on my feet. I had to say goodbye to my car last night. I spent tons of money on it, it was my second home. That car was made for me, his name was Sir Robin the Brave. Is it weird to cry over a car? I bawled, I felt like I was losing my best friend instead of having my car towed to a scrap yard. I think the tears started when my very tactful dad said,
"You don't have to clean it out, their just going to crush it."
Gee, thanks dad. Just the image I wanted burned in my brain. My very beautiful Taurus, my trusty friend who got me from Washington state to Missouri a few years back, that got me to and from work for years, that took me on all my shopping trips to the mall, especially in the dead of winter with no heater, etc....crushed into tiny bits of useless glass, metal, rubber, etc....scraps....
I could have fixed him if I'd had two thousand dollars...I don't. My life is over...
Moving on....
I've got nothing...

Anxious for Christmas?

We have our own language. My family. Seriously. Erin is sitting in the chair across the living room and everything she says she puts an L as the first letter. So, "We are having tortillas, cheese, and eggs" becomes "Le lar laving lortillas, lheese, land leggs." We are a weird bunch. My brother-in-law's sister is sitting on the couch next to me with a confused expression on her face while she watches Erin trying to figure this out. Of course, I completely understand Erin's words. We're family.
Yesterday I got up extremely early (9 a.m.) to go to Soulard's Farmer's Market with one of my three roommates. We got tomatoes and other things. Always fun. Then we went to the Japanese Festival at the St. Louis Botanical Gardens. We saw the Candyman and ate Red Bean Ice Cream and Green Tea Ice Cream. I bought a cool fan with a dragon on it. Loads of fun. We got in for free because one of our roommate's mom works somewhere something or other...idk.
Then last night I came over here to my sister Carrie's house. Kind of a sleepover. Carrie, Erin, Michelle, our niece Phoebe, and I. I bought a couple Papa John's pizzas and we ate pizza, played kareoke on the gamecube, then Carrie, Erin, and Phoebe used the Quiji board while Shell and I played Scrabble. Scrabble is an addicting game for someone like me who absolutely loves words.
Anyway, that is a typical Saturday night for me, just hanging out with family. You should have seen us, we was so loud and having a great time, we might as well have been drunk. On the drive home from picking up the pizzas we sang Christmas songs. We had loads of fun making our own lyrics to the 12 days of Christmas.
"On the first day of Christmas my poor husband gave to me, a dead rat in my Christmas tree..."
or "On the first day of Christmas my murdering mother gave to me, Michael Myers next to my Christmas tree..."
Merry Christmas from my family!

End of the Road

My Taurus died. I miss my car. My mom sent me 700 for a car. My mechanic found me one for 900...got it Friday. Went and got insurance. Went to get the state test...it's stuck in the parking lot, wont start. I seriously am broke and have no car. I'm sure my mechanic can fix it, but that's going to cost. I do not make enough money at my job, so I am really stressed out right now. I just want a decent car that isn't going to die. I'm not asking for anything expensive, new, sporty, whatever. I just need something that's going to work. I can't seem to get a break in life. It's a curse. My dad kills anything electrical, and, apparently, I have the same problem. In a single year I killed two ipods. Then I killed my Verizon Chocolate. Now my phone, less than a year old, is having issues charging. The other day I couldn't get my laptop to charge. The remote for my DVD player evaporated. The universal remote my dad gave me for it wont do the one thing I needed the remote to do! I can play or stop DVD's on the machine itself, I just can't go over to select a different option on the menu. The universal remote works except the arrow buttons...I have rotton luck. I'm so sick of all this stress. In the past three months I must have spent 1000 dollars on that Taurus just to keep it going. I've only had it for 3 years. I took over the payments on it. My brother got it brand new. he had it 6 years, then me for three. I still owe him 860 dollars for the thing! For the car that is now dead. A nine year old car...WTF? I am having trouble breathing, I don't know what to do.

Customers, Co-workers, Ghosts

Some guy in his thirties bought a magazine with the cast of Saved By the Bell on the cover. A reunion. I told him I loved that show.
"I didn't watch it," he said. "It was before my time." Then he walked away.
I had to laugh. Before his time? He is older than me and I grew up on that show. My sister Carrie is 30 and she watched it in her teens. Maybe he was just a terribly confused man.
I have been hooked on X Files lately. I'd never seen it before, but Carrie has the first two seasons and got me hooked. Who doesn't love aliens? Maybe some of my customers are from another planet? Maybe. Like this next guy:
I had another strange customer who came into cafe. The only thing he said before he turned and walked away was:
"You don't have anything as boring as coconut coke, do you?"
I shook my head. What the heck is coconut coke?
I usually have to use the restroom two or three times a shift. Last night I used it on my lunch break and was good the rest of the evening. An hour before we closed, I was going about my business of washing dishes, cleaning up, wrapping the bakecase, when my bladder started screaming at me. Not the usual, "Hey, I need to be relieved." No it was more a sharp pain when I moved that told me bladder infection. So I called on the PA asking Joe to call me at his convenience. Ten minutes later he answers. Five minutes later while I was in the middle of making a customer's drink, he shows up.
"The last hour is always the busiest. It's really hard to give breaks at this time."
Of course my thoughts jump at this. Joe is the kind of guy who is always right, knows everything, and probably could run the entire store on his own much better than anyone else without breaking a sweat. At least, that is the vibe he sends me. Like those popular kids in high shcool I never spoke to or they never spoke to me. Not unless they were using me as the butt of a joke to get the class to laugh. That's how I think of Joe. He's usually nice enough, but still the popular, smart class clown to my nerdy, bookwormness.
When he tells me this, I keep quite while I finish the order. I'm thinking, a break? Really? I have worked there nearly three years now, and maybe twice have gotten my fifteen minute breaks. Two of them a shift, but I never see them. So don't be bitching to me that you don't have five minutes to spare so I can run to the bathroom and piss. I handed the customer her drink and headed for the swinging doors, removing my apron as I went. I say over my shoulder,
"The last hour is the busiest time for me too, but my bladder doesn't care."
To my relief he chuckled as I walked away. Now, me five, six years ago in high shcool would have never been brave enough to voice something like this to any of the popular kids. But I have learned: with age comes backbone. I'm not old, but I am learning to stand up for myself like I have never really been able to do before. Not to people like him anyway. The ones who intimidate me. But no way was I going to allow him to stand there and tell me he doesn't have five minutes to spare so I could pee. I know I did not have five minutes to spare, but my bladder wasn't listening. I'm sure Joe was very busy on bookside, but I can't help but wonder if he realizes what that last hour in cafe is like? Pretty stressful.
If anyone wants to know what it is like serving food and drinks, I suggest reading Waiter Rant by Steve Dublanica. I found it while straightening books last night. I couldn't resist, I read the first five pages. I am going to buy it because I can already tell it is going to be good. Apparently I am not the only one who rants about customers. And this guy knows what he is talking about, our jobs are not as easy as they may appear. It's actually quite stressful. We have to pretend to smile and act all nice and pretend we don't mind when the customer gets snotty. No, go ahead and insult me and give me attitude! I love being treated like this. See, I'm smiling! Now let me turn my back so I can spit into your nonfat, sugar-free, decaf vanilla late. Smile, smile. (Kidding, I have never spit in anyone's drink before. That's disgusting. Believe it or not, I love my job.)
But I just figure, if I am grown-up enough to smile and pretend I like you, the least you can do is smile back and pretend you like me. Don't be rude, you're not better than me. I don't care how much money you make, you're not any more special than I am. (But truthfully, like he says in Waiter Rant, 80% of my customers I actually adore. Nice, normalish, people who I love to talk with when I have a minute. It's that other 20% that I'm worried about. They are nutcases. Assholes. Scum.)
Anyway, moving on.
One of my roomies brought over two mangas as she was leaving work. We both work at Barnes & Noble. She'd been reading them on her lunch break and figured I might like to read them. I asked what they were about and she told me one of them was about ghosts. Of course, I am thrilled to hear this. Ghosts are one of my favorite topics. She hates scary movies, but I thrive on them. The ghost ones anyway. She always rolls her eyes at my ghost fetish. I asked her if she liked ghosts, though I could tell she didn't. You know what she said?
"I'm not twelve."
Excuse me? I told her it had nothing to do with twelve-year-old ghost stories. I'm talking about real, haunt-your-house ghosts. I've seen numerous hauntings in my life. What is she talking about twelve? Ghosts are not children's business. They're real. I didn't say unicorns. I said ghosts. She's nice, helpful, always so sweet and we get along great, but this sounded like an insult. It really made me mad, but I didn't let her know it. I'd like to know why she believes earthbound spirits are for twelve-year-olds and her anime and manga collection are for a twenty-one-year old. Or her fascination with cupcakes. Can anyone out there explain this to me? Maybe she's never encountered a spirit before so she doesn't believe. But I just don't understand her reasoning that something that involves death can be for kids.
I once woke up in the dead of night and sat up in bed. I had no earthly idea why I was awake, but I was. Not sleepy awake, either, but like I just drank ten cups of coffee, fully alert awake. I did not have to use the bathroom, so I couldn't figure it out. I was living with my brother at the time in his two bedroom apartment, so I slept in the kid's room. My nephew, 2, slept in the small bed next to mine, and my 7-month-old niece was in her crib on the other side of the room. I glanced around, but they were both out. Then I turned my attention to the closet door which was on the opposite wall from where I slept. It was one of those, take-the-entire-wall, sliding doors kinda closet. Guess what happened next? Right before my eyes, the dang thing slid open of it's own volition. My cat chose that moment to dart out of the room like satan was on his tail. My heart jumped into my throat and my arms became goosebumpy. Quickly, I dove under my blanket, that childhood belief that the cotton and material would protect me from any monster came back to me.
I was so scared I thought about calling to my brother and his wife. They'd hear me through the baby moniter. Then I remembered they sleep like the dead. Their alarm clock usually woke me up and would beep for about a half hour before they ever got up. I had this deep urge to wake my two-year-old nephew up and have him crawl into bed with me. No joke, I was that terrified. And, it being summer, the apartment hot with no air conditioner, I couln't breathe beneath my covers. But I didn't wake him, and soon was asleep again.
I have no doubt that apartment is haunted. There were always strange noises, like someone walking around when nobody was there. We once found a handprint on the bedroom wall that was at such an odd angle, it didn't make sense that any of us would have rested our hand there for balance or any other reason. Plus, we measured it agains all our palms. It didn't have a match.

Books and Movies

I am reading so many books right now. Getting it Through My Thick Skull by Mary Jo Buttafuoco. I checked it out from work a few days ago, and will finish it tonight before I go to sleep. It is an amazing true story. Even if you do not usually read biographies or true stories, you should read this one. I never read non-fiction. But I can't put this one down.
Also, I'm nearly done reading Hunger by Michael Grant. It is the second book in the Gone seris.
I cannot put this one down, either. What these kids have to do, what they go through, it is insane. He really is a wonderful author. I hope it will be a movie someday, it is that good.
The Tommyknockers by Stephen King. Started it, haven't gotten far yet, but I will. So far it's interesting. I finished his Bag of Bones reccently, and am now in the process of reading every book he has ever written. It is going to take some time.
Did you know that Craig Ferguson wrote a few books? He did! I was simply strolling through Barnes & Noble, on my way to clock out and go home after a long day of making coffee in the cafe, and wouldn't you know it? There it was on an endcap, right in my face. I'm broke, but I bought it anyway. Who needs gas for their cars to get to work when you have a book by Craig Feguson?? Lol. I was thrilled! I was a fan of his when he was on The Drew Carry Show. Then fell in love with him one night when I was at the kitchen table putting together a puzzle and I heard a sexy accent on the television. The voice was familiar. No one was watching TV, it was just left on from earlier in the day. I couldn't resist that voice. I got up and saw him, right there on The Late Late Show With Craig Ferguson. I didn't know he had this show!! Just because he is many, many years my senior does not mean I am blind to his attractiveness. He's also hilarious. So far, the book is good. Between the Bridge and the River. Check it out.
In the process of moving into my new apartment, I have managed to misplace my hardcover copy of Inkheart by Cornelia Funke. I have the bookcover, but just not the book. With my most treasured hardcover books, I usually take off the paper covers and put on a cloth book when I am reading it, so the paper cover doesn't get crinkled or destroyed. The cloth cover then protects the book's actual cover. Call me anal, I just love my books and cannot really afford to replace them should they find themselves covered in milk or mustard. Anyway, I'm very upset about it's absence. I had been reading it, apparently, or else I would not have the cover. Or, most likely, I had given it to my sister to read to her husband on their eighteen-wheeler, and it is burried there still. Now that she has been staying home and going to school, she cannot read it to him. Hopefully she finds it on the truck and my worries will be all for nothing. I can't read Inkspell or Inkdeath until I have read the fisrt one again. So the second and third books are at home, on my shelf, collecting dust and waiting for me to open them. It's depressing. The movie was awesome. Brendan Fraser: you just have to love him. He hasn't been in a movie that I don't like.
I didn't know The 10th Kingdom was a book! My sister found it at a yard sale or something and got it for me. She knew I'd be thrilled. The movie is one of my favorites, and it's also a book!
Speaking of movies, I saw Harry Potter six when it was released at midnight. No doubt, it was the best one they've made. Left a lot out from the book, but it was the best movie so far. It was hilarious. Loved it. Going to see it again on Sunday with my friend Sami. My sister Erin hated it, but then she just doesn't see things the way I do. She just didn't like how it ended. I'm not going to give anything away. I personally thought the ending was beautiful. Carrie was hoping for more action, more wizarding in the muggle world. She was decieved by the previews. My friend Stephanie who went to the midnight release of Twilight with me agrees this was the best Harry Potter film thus far. Go see it!

I finally got an apartmen. I can't wait to move in, yet I don't wish to move. Carrie and I have so much fun living together. It's sad. With her working and starting school, me working and getting ready to start school, we are never going to see each other. She's one of my favorite sisters. But, at least I have a home now. I have to share a room with my friend, but I will have a place to live. That's what is important.
I'm at Carrie's place right now. We are going to go play Disney Party on the game cube. I have to be up early in the morning. I really don't want to go to work tomorrow, but I must.
I am trying to figure out what is so cool about Facebook, but I still can't even figure out how to use it, or what the point of the site is. Sending little pictures of coffee and old 80s toys? Fasinating. Anyone have any thoughts on this odd popularity?
Good night.

Decisions

I have decided I am going to college. I have to move out today, stay with my sister Erin in her apartment for a few days. My friends and I are waiting to hear back from an apartment we are wanting to rent. I hope they let us know soon because I don't really want to hop around from Erin's home to my friend Sami's place, then to my dad's, and Carrie's. My three months are up, Carrie's husband is coming home from the road today, and his grandparents and two cousins are going to be here. Today is really going to be hectic.
This apartment we are looking into is a two bedroom, so me and my friend Christina are going to have to share a room, and Sarah gets the other room. I have not shared a room in years, so this is going to suck. But it is affordable. 200 dollars a month each. I can do that. But what I really want is a place all my own. I could afford four hundred on my own, the apartment next to Erin's that will soon be vacant, but it would be difficult. Plus, Christina and Sarah are counting on me, so I can do this for however long our lease is, but eventually I want my own place.
I am going to go to college. A woman from work just left Barnes and Noble to go on a six week dig in Mississippi. We talked occassionally about archeology. I have always been interested, but never as a serious choice for my career. Then she left for Mississippi, and I thought, that sounds like fun. I started reading as much as I could about history, archeology, paleontology. I bought several books, taped loads of programs on the history channel. I want to study as much as I can and see if I am still interested in a few weeks to actually go to school for it. I think I am.
Carrie is not going on the road anymore with Ray. She also needs to make more money. We are all struggling. The world is struggling. So she's home for good. Got a job at the BK down the street, starts classes in a few days. She's going to be a nurse. Her sister-in-law just graduated. She wants to work in a high security prison, or maybe go into criminal law. I'm not sure. But me and Carrie are getting very motivated. I'm very anxious to go back to school. I was in college for about a year, and now, three years later, I am ready to go back. Now that I am sure what I want to do.