|
Life Forensics:
|
|
June 29, 2007
We'll see how far this goes. Lately, as I sit down to write, I get a few sentences out before all sorts of fires crop up everywhere that I have to go stomp out. I'm not even a volunteer firefighter, which implies something consensual. I'm more of an indentured firefighter. As I finally sit here with a moment or two (in theory) to write, I find that I have so much to say that it's all bottlenecking and can't get out. So I'll just start out small. We went to Six Flags Discovery Kingdom on Sunday, formerly Six Flags Marine World. We all had free passes from the math-a-thon, so we only need to pay for our food and gas (which ended up being more than I expected). It was a very, very nice day; definitely our best at an amusement park ever. The kids were all in good spirits and the weather was perfect. It was lovely. The only thing that could be considered remarkable I can remember noting is that I saw a toddler with a kid harness that was disguised as a monkey (the harness, not the kid). The arms reached over his shoulders like a back pack and around his waist like a belt, it all velcroed together in front, then the tail went up into a handle for mom. Did I have the much maligned and frowned at kid harnesses for my toddler? God yes I did. Anyone who doesn't is cutting off their mommy nose to spite their "soon to be on anti-depressants" face. I just never had a cool monkey one. Oh for the lost opportunities! I have still been training at the post office. I only get 20 hours of training, but it happens in 2-3 hours a day increments, so it seems to take forever and the paycheck I get are miniscule. Of course my next paycheck doesn't come until I'm already at the GH Fan Club Weekend, so it avails me nothing in that respect. I have complete faith that amazing miracles can happen in just 2 weeks' time and so I refuse to entertain the idea that I might not get to go or once I'm there, I might have to nibble on bologna sandwiches in the hotel room to make ends meet. At this point, money is a skitterish thing. In the construction field, as I am sure it is with most independent contractors, you get paid when the general contractor feels like paying you and so far, Eric's past two jobs have not felt up to paying him. One was done more than 2 months ago and the other just billed out and could be paid as soon as next week, so there are plenty of inroads for the miracles to happen. The post office jobs don't generate enough income to meet even our most very basic needs, so something like a trip to LA just wouldn't be feasible unless these guys unass some money. The airline tickets are long paid for, as are the event tickets. All I need to cover is food and hotel for me and Delena, so I am going to keep thinking positively and believe that all will be well. Eric is wonderfully persistent about pursuing the money that is owed to him, I have to give him that and he does take seriously how much this trip means to me, so I know that if it doesn't work out, it wasn't for lack of trying. We are leaving for Burger Night in a few minute. It definitely is different experiencing it from the "administrative" end rather than only as a paying guest. We're there for about 4 hours setting up, serving and cleaning up afterwards. It's nice to be part of a group effort, but it is a lot of work. Tomorrow, I have to take Nathan to town (it's his weekend to go with me) and then at some point, Josh, Valerie and the Grandkids are coming up to visit for the weekend. Sunday is Dylan's birthday and a whole passel of people are coming over. Monday I think I will try and recover. Tuesday, Delena comes home, so we have to head out to the airport to get her, which is an all day event. I took her there on Wednesday with both boys and Lord help us if the damned plane didn't end up being a whole hour late boarding. That's longer than the actual flight. I'm grateful for the fact that her first time flying alone, she got there in one piece and is having a great time, but I was fixin to have a nervous breakdown particular with Nathan who suddenly decided to be a complete nervous wreck. I almost got us killed on the way to the airport. I was trapped in an exit only lane on the freeway, merged over so as not to exit and someone with a nice car the exact same color as the freakin pavement (blendy, I'm telling ya) almost became one with my own vehicle. Coming back, I'd promised the boys I'd get Pizza Hut to take home for them for dinner, but the Pizza Hut I knew about only served those nasty little personal pizzas, so I had to drive to hell and back at 4pm (not good driving time in Sacramento) to find a real Pizza Hut. Then I headed home and was evah so glad to be there. Now we'll do it again when she gets home on Tuesday. I may have to send Eric to get her because I have to have a meeting of all of the Queens to prepare for our big Fourth of July Parade Float the very next day. So yes, that brings us to Wednesday, when we have our July 4th parade and potluck at the school. The Queens and I will be all dolled up in our sequins and opera gloves and such and Eric will be driving us around with his pimp hat on. That's what is happening in my world. I'll (hopefully) be back with something remotely intelligent to say and maybe even with some good news to report! Be Particular, |
About Me
I am a happily married broad of a particular age who lives in a rural mountain community on the edge of the El Dorado National Forest. Grizzly Flats was once a thriving mining town (think "Deadwood"), but is now a quiet, remote town with a few hundred year-round residents and several city folks with a country home up here where they come to rough it a few times a year. No more saloons or hotels or livery stables, just an unmanned fire station, a 2 room schoolhouse, a ranger station and a post office. It's heaven. I am a writer and webmaster. I am also a rural route mail carrier and a student of life and the world around us. I deeply honor all religions and whatever (harming none) path others use to reach God and their most sacred selves. I completely reject the premise that there is one path/ one religion that "fits all" and is the "right" one. Just as people speak in different languages to one another, I believe God also speaks to us in different languages. God knows us well enough to understand that our spirits vibrate on different levels and must be accessed in different ways with different words and practices. Mike Rowe ("Dirty Jobs"): "Are you a religious man?" Septic Tank Cleaner: "No, but I am a spiritual man." Personal InfoKey Info to Know In My WorldWhere I've LivedNames I've UsedPhotosWhat I'm ReadingWhat I'm Listening To LatelyWhat I'm Watching On TV LatelyWaiting to Come BackRecently Watched Movies
|
