Igor.... It LIVES!

The sad thing is, this blog is probably an accurate depiction of my life.

Moving on, because I've been silent too long and I have things to say! 

Thank the springtime rain. The shift in weather seems to have awakened my deeper sense of the world. Or something. 

Firstly, I stumbled one step deeper into that dark, cavernous realm called "adulthood". I'm pretty sure I stubbed my toe, and what on earth is that dripping sound? Am I the only one who hears something very large breathing?

My Monday last week started off like this. Yes, that is self-inflicted. Thankfully I'm able to keep the greater life lessons contained to my work place so I at least have someone around to help me pick up the pieces. 

Long story short (because frankly it's embarrassing) I swallowed my tears and replaced the impaled tire with my donut, arranged for and paid to have the tire replaced, and, with the help of a new jack and tire iron, replaced the tire. 

All this with only a little muscle and prodding from my parents. Despite the pain to my pride and my savings account, I'm proud of how I handled myself. (Also, one of my co-workers said I got farther by myself than his wife would have and, coming from him, that's a true compliment.)

2) We have 30-odd eggs about to hatch. 

Item three: there's also a guinea pig now (not mine). No pictures, though. Chubs is extremely shy. We now have poultry (too many to count), canines, reptiles, rodents, and fish. All we need is a house bird and a pony and we will be complete. (Mom also wants goats. We're holding her at bay for now, but no promises. (We don't even like goat milk.)) Someone may try to add felines to that list. I'm dubious of the wisdom of that plan. 

     3.5 - we are also now the hosts of our own hoarde of little cannibals. 

Do not be fooled by their fluffiness. Do heed the warnings of the red light. These are meat birds. Their sole purpose in life is to grow big and fat really quickly and then...! *mimes slicing throat* This picture is a little old and they're already well on their way to the dinosaur stage. They eat, they sleep, they drink, they eat, and if their food isn't constantly full they will turn on your...or each other. If regular chickens are the sharks of bird-kind, these are piranhas. 

Four, as most of you know, is that I have discovered a new artistic outlet which has lasted longer than a month: painting on canvas. Mostly words, because I love those, but a few are just awesome patterns. 

It's all very trial-and-error but I'm catching on quickly. Now master calligraphy.... (More pictures on my Instagram account [the_magicmirror] , because they be many.)

And speaking of social media and the like, (5) I broke down and joined Pintrest. (That's how I broke into the canvas gig.) No, I will not share. The last thing I need is encouragement. Next up: Etsy!

VI. I have managed to sustain a houseplant for more than a month! 

It got a little withered at one point but is surprisingly resilient and perked back up overnight with some water. I looked for one labeled "low diffused light" and "light watering". That is the key. 

7) I haven't washed my hair since Monday. Be jealous. I have rediscovered dry shampoo, and it feels a little like cheating, but my temples get greasy. (You're welcome for the random fact you probably never wanted to know.)

Ocho - my favorite word at the moment is "embrace". Think about it: not only does it mean acceptance and open arms; but is also means safety, arms wrapped tightly. It's a warm hiding place against the world; it's a place of rest; it's a promise of support. *pulls out canvas* plus, it rolls rather nicely off the tongue. 

That really is all I have for now. The goal was to bring everyone up to speed. Can't say as I covered everything, but it's the first step that's always the messiest. I wanted to get over that one quickly. 

Amber vs. Ditch: The First Time I Got Towed

Another lunchtime post. This one will be less philosophical than last time. My brain can only handle so much deep thinking before I get overwhelmed.

As most of my friends are aware, I work an office job for a family-owned business. This business's office is located on the family's property, in a building 1/4 mile from the house and the only available restroom. (I quickly learned it was a bad idea to have milk or smoothies for breakfast.) During the summer this distance works to my advantage because I get a 1/2 mile run in on my break. With the arrival of winter, however, I've started driving to the house instead of risking the cold and ice.

The driveway is paved, but thanks to 12-odd feet of wetland in the way it was not built in a straight line. There are three significant curves in that 1/4 mile, with the one closest to the office being the worst. 

Some of you can see where I'm going with this.

Per usual, I took my car. Coming back I hit the last turn too tightly and slid right off the edge of the drive. I didn't even have a chance to try and correct before I was sunk.

Commence 5 minutes of trying to rock the car. This only got me in deeper. I jogged the few hundred feet to the office and grabbed some cardboard to stick under the front tires. This didn't work. So I called my boss. "Hey. I'm stuck in the ditch off the drive."

She said she'd be up with her truck as soon as she finished her work.

Did I sit around to wait? No. I thought I'd give it one last try on my own. Make things a little easier for the truck, you know? After all, I'm a Royce: I can fix anything with enough sheer determination.

Many of you have seen that my driver's door is something of a mess from my wreck last March. Before that unfortunate left turn, the door handle took some work to open. Now it takes lots of leverage and jiggling, especially in the winter, to work at all. A lot of the time I'm climbing over the passenger seat to get in.

I had gone into the ditch passenger side-first. Gravity pulled my driver's door down and I couldn't work it open from that angle, so I climbed through the passenger side. I tried once to rock the car and gave up. And climbed through the driver's door. And didn't check the locks.

I kicked at some snow around the tires and decided I should quit while I was ahead. But when I went to open the door to turn off the car, I discovered it was locked. Ok, fine. Wait. Not fine.

Peering through the window, I realized the passenger door was locked. In my frustration I probably tripped around the snow and tree roots to test it.

Yup. All locked except the one door I couldn't muscle open.

I debated for a good 3 minutes before I called Mom.

"My car got stuck in the ditch at work and I can't get the door open. It's still running."

And then I lost it. I'd been laughing at that point, but you all know what happens as soon as you call Mom: the lost, helpless child in you comes out.

Thankfully I didn't collapse in hysterics in the snow, but I did cry.

Mom said she'd be up in a while with the key. I went back in to try to force down some of the lunch for which I now had no appetite.

Before Mom arrived, my boss came up with her truck. I had left her a message saying to hold off until Mom came and we could get into the car, but she hadn't got it.

To condense, Mom arrived, got the driver's door open before she even tried unlocking and climbing through the passenger door, and we tried pulling out the car. My rear bumper (y'know, the one held together with blue tape?) creaked and groaned, but no good that way. It didn't even budge when we tried pulling it forward, and the truck just spun its wheels.

So we called a tow truck.

It would have been one thing if I had actually been on the road and skidded on ice or something. But at work? One a driveway I drive every day of the week? That's kind of a blow to my pride.

The tow truck arrived a couple hours later. Oh, yeah. When Mom came, she turned off my car for a minute, but upon trying to restart it to get out of the ditch we discovered that it wouldn't start. So Mom told me to test it before the tow truck driver left.

I pointed the man to my car and mentioned it hadn't started last time. He told me to get in and try it before anything else so he could hear it.

The car started up on the first turn of the key.

I wanted to kick that impudent Chevy.

Raising an eyebrow, the man asked if I could manage to steer it as he directed. So he hooked up the winch, waved his hand to indicate the desired direction of the tires, and - with my boss's boys staring as they walked up from school - my car was pulled free.

The man had quoted $50-55 for the tow. When I told him I had a card or $49 in cash, he said the cash was fine, bid me a good day, and left.

I thought it was over there.

Famous last words.

Our driveway at home is prone to snow drifts. I know this because I've nearly got stuck in them several times this winter turning my car around to park it. Sunday night, the drift got the better of me.

Allenna said tight-lipped in the passenger seat as I tried to rock the car. Finally, shaking my head, I told her she might as well go in side. Heather, who had come home first, came out to see what the deal was. Knowing my recent track record with snow-stuck cars, she helped herself to the driver's seat and tried her hand at getting my car out. No such luck.

Then she turned it off while we debated what to do.

My car hasn't turned back on since.

We tried jumping it, but no good. It's probably a starter or something. And since I was half-way through turning it around when it got stuck and then quit, parking around the Royce house has gotten kind of creative. I used Heather's car yesterday because she had off, but now I'm stuck with the van until my Chevy dilemma is resolved.

So that's my life. People ask me what's new, and I shrug and say not much. I'm thinking either people need to stop prodding me for details or I need to come up with something else to say. "I'm writing a book" or "I'm getting a lot of reading in" or "I tried this new flavor of hummus". Anything except, "Nothing. My life is boring and uneventful and not worth discussing." Because then that isn't true.

I Must Confess....

I know, I know, it is neither Tuesday nor Friday. Evidently I will need a little while to adjust to that self-imposed schedule.

In the meantime, I can say with all certainty that I would rather not dwell on this week. It's been one humdinger of a month, really.

The highlight was yesterday. I got out of work on time. I was driving home with planning the new game I was going to introduce in game time that evening. I had to make a stop at the drugstore for some much needed allergy medicine. Said drugstore has two entrances, and accessing the most expedient route home from either of those requires turning left.

In short, I pulled out in front of some cars which were graciously waiting for me to go and right into the path of a car that was switching to the turn lane.

I registered a brief squeal of tires before impact and spun into the far right lane.

Neither driver was so much as bruised, his car had a dented fender and a cracked light, my driver door will no longer open and the passenger door on that side is dented, and we traded paint. Blessedly there was an officer just pulling out of the parking lot from which I had made my exit, so we could get the whole business over with that much quicker.

I had a ticket and some car repairs to pay for, and that's all I'm going to say about it. That and: good grief, but I am sending out my teenage years with a bang.

I don't mean to seem like I'm brushing it off. By all means, that's what I wish I could do; but one of my worst faults is dwelling on my failings.  For whatever reason, I have an issue with learning from my mistakes, great or small, and letting the rest go. Somedays I live in the land of "What If?" I'm working on it, believe me, but it's not as easy as buckling into a plane seat and holding on for the ride.

So on to brighter things! (You'll get the joke in a moment.)

Ladies and gentleman, my name is Amber, and I am a heliophile.

*collective gasp of horror from audience*

Yes, yes, it is true. I am in deep like...with the sun.

(For those of you not trained in Classic Mythology and etymology, "heliophile" is derived from "Helios, Greek god (Titan?) of the sun", and "phile", meaning "lover of, enthusiast". Proof that Percy Jackson encourages learning.)

But I'm not kidding when I say I love sunshine. Sure, starry nights are great, and I know how to appreciate a good lighting show. One of my favorite ways to fall asleep is to the sound of rain on the roof and thunder in the distance. But my favorite weather of all is sunny.

The only downside of our new house is that it has a grand total of two east-facing windows: one in the living room and one in the downstairs bathroom. Whenever we move, I look for the bedroom with the east-facing window. I had to settle for south, which is second best (oddly preferable over west). I have my room arranged so that when I'm laying on my bed, my head faces east. Probably something to do with how many Disney movies start with morning sunshine on someone's face. Deep down, I bet I do it hoping I'll wake with a smile and a contended yawn like those obnoxious princesses (minus Anna, who is now my morning hero).

Unlike most of the United States at the moment, we had a bit of a weather break yesterday involving sunny skies and temperatures above freezing. Up until I got out of work, I was having a great day daydreaming of springtime. I'm actually getting quite desperate for it.

Allenna and I went to the library last week, and on the way home, I decided I needed to stop by the nursery near our house. Just walking into a room bursting with greenery and the smell of growing things made me happy. When one of the employees came over to ask if I needed anything, I said I was just looking and admitted I needed a vegetation fix. She smiled and told me she'd already met several people who had said the same thing.

People who have known me a while may be a little surprised when I say how much I enjoy being in the sunshine. As a kid, I was more often pale from lack of sunlight as opposed to tan. What can I say? I lived voraciously through others as a child. I'm mostly over that now.

Maybe it's weird, then, that my favorite season is not summer, but spring, when we're more likely to wake to rain clouds than sunshine and birdsong. I think part of my deep appreciation for sunlight comes from missing it during the cloudy months. 

And I'm rambling now. I'd better scoot before things get completely boring.

Full Day

Today has been a long, though wonderful, day.

It kind of started around 4:30 this morning when I woke to Sasha licking my elbow. Still not sure what that was about. I actually woke up around 7:30 and was downstairs in time to say good-bye to Dad. Then came a few quiet hours shuffling around the house before Mom, Wes, and I headed out to run errands. We dropped my car off to get some work done, then went to a couple stores, a rummage sale, and a restore before picking up my car. We came home with a stove, a mattress for Wes, a kiddie pool (for the ducks), and some books and clothes for me (old hardback copies of Charlotte's Webb and Black Beauty). After unloading, Mom and Wes went back out and picked up a new bed for him from some friends.

The chicks and ducks were put outside for the day. They didn't wander very much, but they really enjoyed it once they got used to it. I found that the best way to get an accurate head count is to count by breed: "One Bantum, one Brahma, two Leghorns, four Americaunas, etc."

Then Wes got my bow (which I got a couple Christmases ago) and set up a make-shift target along the house. Turns out I can't handle a bow with a draw weight of 40 pounds. But I didn't break anything and didn't hurt myself = success. I was given instructions to practice drawing, starting at 10 reps a day, and build up my muscles (and I actually do have muscles now that I've graduated from home-bound homeschooler to working single).

It being the first truly nice day in the last couple of weeks, I decided I should take Sasha for a walk. I haven't been to the park yet, though Mom and the girls have gone a number of times. Heather and Hershey came along with us.

I was wearing a work-out tank and yoga pants. And was warm.

We didn't walk long. Heather suggested a jog, but that lasted no time at all before I started cramping up. And Sasha has two speeds: waddle or galumph. But it was fun. And, for the first time this year, I turned on the air conditioning in my car. (I'm so glad I have a car with AC!)

Home to cleaning, reorganizing, and playing with the fowl. And I managed to assemble a little shelf for our DVD's almost all by myself. I let Mom handle the nailing at the end. But yay me!

Then a friend stopped by so she, Heather, and I could run through a practice for a rather impromptu special for tomorrow. We've sung the song before, though it was a while ago. We had a recording of the music from the pianist at church, and we tried practicing with it playing on Dad's computer. However, the speakers weren't nearly loud enough, so we ended up moving to the friend's car to practice. Whatever works, right?

Around the same time, Allenna returned home from a couple days with some friends, bringing yard sale loot with her.

More cleaning, alphabetizing DVD's (how long with that last?), supper, and reorganizing. The fowl are now in the garage. And boy was it fun rounding them up! No wonder chicken chasing* is a game in some rodeos! The Polish especially, though some of the smallest, are crazy quick. And turns out possibly 5 of our 6 Buffs from the second group of Buffs are roosters. Yay.

I was kind of hoping to do nothing today (the last few days have been kind of stressful, for some reason) but it turns out this sort of activity was just what I needed. Maybe it was all the fresh air and going barefoot? All in all, a beautiful, enjoyable day.

Mom's been working in the dining room for the last week (or few weeks) painting, including the table. Now things are finally back to some order, and it's looking amazing. I love having a separate, good-sized dining room!

Well, I think Dad got a movie, so I'm signing off.

 

*Look! The chicken with the blue lei in that picture is a Polish!

A rather incoherent late night post

My mind is running in a dozen different directions. I was trying to come up with something to blog about on the way home (ah, summer hours) because I'd been too lazy to blog earlier. I spent most of my day watching movies and hanging out with siblings and a friend who were all only semi-concious as they recovered from Lock-In. I'd spent the night nibbling brownies and watching Karate Kid (the original) and getting to sleep near my normal hour (after kicking Hershey off my bed for the fifth time).

It's been a dreary week.

I need to be careful I don't make this late-night blogging a habit! Right now I'm munching on a lukewarm roast and dodging around Mom while she tends to the chicks and gets them settled for the night. She just did a head count; it's about like that scene in Robots when...the red guy voiced by Robin Williams is trying to count baddies. ("Will you all quit moving around? I think I counted one of you twice!")

Right! Focus (Daniel-San...).

I wrote a post a while ago about late night driving and the dangers of deer on the roads. And my subsequent fear of encountering said creatures on the road in the dark. (Even during the day, but especially at night...) With work, I've been doing a lot of night driving, and I'm pretty used to it. I have to turn on a radio station with junky music because I need background noise but I lose focus when songs I actually enjoy are being played.

Anywho! Due to the flooding, I'm having to take a different route home. This road is narrower and the trees are closer, making it easier for deer to hide. But I had a revelation of sorts: it's not the deer that scare me. It's the other drivers.

People driving at night are worse than during the day. Admit it. Misuse (or lack of use entirely) of blinkers seems to be a prevailing issue around here, but at night people figure they aren't necessary at all. What? And brights? I know there are deer. I'm just as concerned about them as you at. But when you are coming at me with lights equaling the intesity of the noonday sun, you need to be worried about me, because I can no longer see to make sure I'm keeping to my own lane.

However, both of these issues are things I deal with not just from other drivers, but from myself. At least, my car.

The switch with the blinker, lights, and cruise control is messed up. (And it'd over $100 to fix it.) Whenever I need to use the blinker, I have to switch it up or down and then pull it forward. And it's harder to use when it's cold outside. This problem is further compounded by the face that pulling that lever-thing forward also switched on the brights.

See where I'm going?

If a car is coming at me and their brights are just too much to bear, I'll flicker my own to kindly hint that they need to disengage theirs. However, sometimes the poor driver coming toward me is following all the rules of the road and I flash my brights at them anyway, because the blinker won't work. This happened a couple weeks ago. Said approaching driver then proceeded to display their brights as if I need reassurance that they weren't on. I almost missed my turn.

I don't have any of these problems (at least my side of them) in Mom's car. Her brights stink, to be honest. They're the equivalent of another car's regular lights. It's okay if I forget they're on and a car is approaching; they can't tell the difference. In my car, I have to be careful, because its brights are the sort that set other people to flashing theirs.

Wow. I'm rambling. This is totally not what I intended.

Like I said, I had a whole bunch of thoughts on what I could blog about. I usually hit my second wind around 11 at night, if I'm still awake. (I know. The normal person doesn't get that until 2 or 3 in the morning.) But this is as good as it's going to get. I'd better leave now before I do any more damage.

Springtime, true to form

So, I sat down to blog today after my inexcusable absence and discovered a short draft of a post I'd started a week ago and completely forgotten about. Right. So here's that:

Jessi informed me yesterday that you cannot have a dream involving people you've never seen before. I have to wonder how that works for writers, because we often vividly imagine fake people.

Any way, I'm still trying to decide how I feel about that fact, because what brought it up was me telling her about my dream Sunday night.

As you may have guessed, it was another wedding dream.

This was has just cause. One of my cousins got married on Saturday.

My groom had a face! I just can't remember it. I do remember the hair color, which has been pretty consistent. But the ceremony wasn't even a key part of the dream. Nope. We got stuck in the Canadian wilderness in a blizzard. Go figure.

And on with more recent junk!

We've been getting a literal flood of true spring weather. The main road we take into town has been closed the last few days and we've all had to adjust our routes. Irritating, to say the least. However, I haven't even had to worry about driving lately, because.... I've been taking the bus.

Yes. This lovely city of ours has a bus system. (Actually, I have to use the county bus system because of where we live.) No one in the family really even acknowleged the fact until last week when Wes's van went ka-poot and suddenly I had no way of getting to work. Until my boss reminded me of the bus, which a co-worker uses.

Mom grabbed the idea like it was a life line and she in a hurricane.

I about had a nervous breakdown. It was pitiful and childish. I am ashamed.

In short, I've had...eight bus rides now! Yay me. On the first one, I actually sat with notebook in had and scribbled out every random thought, intending to turn it into this long blog post. Obviously, that didn't happen, and I am so glad! In short, I toughened up and managed to get through, though inside I felt like a piece of Jell-O at the mercy of a fork-weilding toddler. By God's grace (and yes, I mean that) the driver of my first-ever bus ride was super nice. Awesome, really. As was the old man who drove me home. (And I've never had the same driver twice, as yet.) The old man could be a tour guide with how much he knew about my neighbors. (Not that our stretch of road is really worthy of touring.)

So yes. That's about the only exciting thing. The chicks and ducks are growing (and, in the chicks' case, growing ugly). I kind of neglected them for a few days, being so busy with work and life in general, and when I returned the ducklings were about twice their former size and more obnoxious than ever. And I discovered it was pointless to name the  Buffs. I can't tell them apart at the moment. Sigh. Lobelia was getting to be so adorable in a chicken sort of way, too. She had this habit of hopping onto people's hands and trying to climb up their arms. She might be the chick who keeps flying up and perching precariously on the edge of the box. Regular daredevil, that one.

Um....

Well, crazy weather, bus rides, growing poultry, weird dreams. I can't think of anything else. It's been a rather unremarkable April. Some people will contest this, saying the weather is horrible, but hello! It's spring. Despite the name, it isn't all skipping through a field of flowers under a clear blue sky with a warm breeze blowing along. It's wet. And sometimes cold. And windy. And muddy. And we need it. Remember last year?

<end rant>

Man. I thought there was something else blog-worthy I wanted to write about, but I can't think of what it was. Guess I end here for the day.

Oh! I'm considering a sort of challenge to myself to post everyday. Not forever, obviously. Maybe a week at first, to see if I can do it. We shall see.

Night Driving (plus a little pointless trivia)

Yeah, so.... I just need to write a prologue to copy and paste into each post which is written far too long after the previous one. In short, it's been a crazy...what? Month? I've had things to write about (namely Thanksgiving and then maybe something about Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day) but obviously didn't care enough to bother, and now those topics just aren't that relevant or whatever.

Well, now I'm back. Though I don't really have anything to write about, it's Friday, which is one of only two days a week which I originally designated to be blogging days.

Old habits die hard.

I guess I do have a little to write about. We're all getting into the Christmas mood around here. I've made lots of molasses crinkles and snickerdoodles. Mom made another batch of hot chocolate and has supplies for chex mix, peanut brittle, peanut butter fudge, and other holiday traditions. We're all making good progress with our Christmas shopping. Mom even found reindeer antlers and a red nose to put on her car, like she's been wanting to do for years. Then she saw the elf ears on someone else's car and wanted those. Right.

She and Heather decided the reindeer/car is Francine, ol' Rudolph's daughter. Didn't ask, don't care to. This led to Mom saying, "Wait. Francine's a girl, but she has antlers."

I reminded her about the reindeer we saw last year (or the year before?) at the city gardens: both male and female have antlers.

This led to a little research on my part, and I discovered something interesting:

Reindeer and caribou are the only...deer-like creatures (they have some strange Latin name for their family or species that starts with a "c", I think) where both the male and female have antlers. For reindeer, at least, both male and female get their antlers in the summer. However, male reindeer lose theirs in mid-November/early-December, and female keep theirs until spring when their young are born. Thus, if we all want to stick to the image of Santa's sleigh being pulled by antlered deer, and we don't want to resort to the excuse that it's all magic, Santa's reindeer are all female. (I always suspected Vixen and Dancer at least were female, so this is easier for me to swallow.)

And tada! That topic blends right into the main topic of the evening! Just cuz I'm that awesome.

Our family was invited to a birthday party tonight for our science teacher. You know, the totally awesome one? She's the only reason I survived chemistry. She likes chocolate and movie quotes and Jeopardy games in class. She helped with my graduation party (and she's one of few people to whom I've managed to give "thank you" notes for said party...). She's just too cool for words. Someday, she needs to write a biography, even if she can't publish it. And then she needs to write textbooks. And then play on Jeopardy.

Anyway! In the end, it was only us girls who ended up going. In my car, which means I have the right to drive. I almost forfeited the right. Why? Because it meant driving at night down country roads.

I've driven at night before, but usually with a parent in the car, unless it's 10 minutes across the city. I've driven those country roads before, but usually with a parent and always in daylight. I'm struggling with a few driving phobias, including lane-changes in downtown traffic, and night driving along deer-infested roads is high on the list.

Deep breath. At least it isn't snowing. (We got some snow last week and flurries earlier this week, but all that's left is a little mush and ice in the shady places.) Snow driving is another phobia of mine. I've yet to do it, and it's another reason I appreciate my old boat of a Chevy over Heather's sports car. Mom made sure I had instructions (though I had a hard time picturing just what she was talking about) and reminded me (or threatened) to text when we left home, when we got to the party, when we left the party, and when we got home.

We left at 6, giving us just enough time to get to the party when it started, if I drove the speedlimit. It actually didn't go too badly. Heather acted as co-pilot, offering her knowledge of the area, because neither of us was crystal clear on where we were headed or what we were looking for. We managed, and I never had to slam on my breaks to turn onto the right road. Yay!

Another perk in my car is honest-to-goodness brights. Mom's car's brights are about as bright and the normal light setting and no one would know the difference. Mine actually showed me beyond both shoulders on the road.

So there I was, maintaining a steady 55 MPH down roads lined with Michigan ditches and across bridges (cringe). I confirmed an earlier suspicion that I pull a little to the right, especially when I'm on a bridge and a semi with very bright lights is passing on the other side of the road. We made good time, arriving just a tad late to the party (and I think they started early).

There weren't many kids there (just one guy and girl Heather's and my age and all their younger siblings). I knew some of the people from church. The rest were total strangers, though some insisted they recognized me. I ate finger food and sipped punch and marveled at how my upbeat, crazy science teacher could be hosting such an almost solemn affair. Here I was thinking there'd be karaoke or something.

We sat around for a little over an hour. Heather avoiding the chocolate for some reason and kept saying weird things I'm not aloud to repeat. In the end, our teacher's daughters invited Allenna to spend the night, so it was just Heather and I on the way home.

Now that I was familiar with my route, I was able to relax a little more. (And by "relax", I mean be less uptight and likely to freak out but rather calm and focused.) Heather and I sang along to Christmas music and kept our eyes peeled for deer. We didn't see a one of 'em. Wonder of wonders.

Adventures of an Abnormal 18-Year-Old: the "living alone" test and a new job

I'm back!

Quite a lot has happened since I last posted, but I'm not going to talk about most of it.

Two things: I have decided that I like the whole "single living at home" part of my...life description? For a while I fantasized about living on my own, but no more!

I determined this when I dog sat for some friends. Thursday evening to Monday morning. I stayed at their house the whole time, except when I went church Sunday morning (not that night, and my excuse is the deer running rampant on the roads between their house and church). 

All alone all day with no internet. Just the dog, a bunch of movies, and my spazzy computer. I set off with the wild idea that I would spend my time writing. Ha! 20 movies later.... Not hardly.

And I about went mad with loneliness. No human interaction at all, all day long, was depressing. I'm not a huge fan of humans on the whole, especially in large groups, but being a human myself, it's only natural I need a little human-to-human socialization. As good of listeners as dogs tend to be most of the time, there's a point where I've talked enough and want a response. In English.

So when I got back and Dad asked how I liked living alone, I snorted, rolled my eyes, and said "Hate it". No hyperbole. I didn't feel as epic and daring as I thought. I just felt pitiful.

Of course, I wasn't working then. Now...I am!

And y'all already know that.

Yup. That's the second thing. First day was yesterday. Boy, I was sure it was going to be one of the scariest moments of my life. Surprisingly, it wasn't. While part of the reason for that is probably because I jumped right into the lunch rush, I think most of it is because I actually took time to do my devotions and pray about the day before starting it. Yeah.

Dad asked what I learned. I didn't really have an answer. So much, but at the same time, very little. This was because every other employee trains the new guys. Which means I got as many opinions on how to do every little thing as there were workers.Ah, well. I didn't make any deathly mistakes, I didn't make any huge messes, and none of the smoothies exploded in the blenders. I only worked a few hours (got off early), but I actually enjoyed it. And then I had to help Mom and Heather deliver the paper routes we're subbing, and my sense of elation deflated.

I worked again today. By last night, I felt very tired, and I didn't want to get up this morning. I loafed around, didn't walk Sasha (because it's that transition between warm and cold and I hate it!), washed a load of dishes, and headed out.

New faces today. Good thing each has an accompanying name tag. I got to jump right back in again. Yesterday, one of the women described working the smoothie line as a dance. I'm not even a dancer and I'm figuring this "dance" out. Points for Amber! Of course, with a thousand and a half recipes to memorize, I'm slower than everyone else. Good thing I just make the smoothies and usually someone else works the blenders. I hate that part. Invariably, every other smoothie will refuse to blend, and then it's stop the blender, shake the smoothie, put it on a new blender, run it for a few seconds, take the lid and pound the blender cup, stop the blender, shake the smoothie, put it in a new blender, etc. Yuck.

All I do mostly is the smoothies. There's also food (wraps, flat breads, sandwiches, etc.) and the register (yikes!) but I think it will be a while before I get to those. Thank goodness. When I'm not working (orders come in in cycles, it seems, and then there are the boring breaks between each) I'm restocking or cleaning. Or cleaning. Or washing dishes. Apparently my non-OCD self is in the minority among the employees. Maybe their obsessive habits will rub off a little. We all know I could use just a little.

Again, I was let out early when we hit a lull and everything had already been scrubbed. I stepped outside to sunshine and a rather chilly breeze, and noticed it was also raining. On the way home, I mused about what that sunshine/rain combo should be called. "Sundrops"? "Rainshine"? But it turns out "Sundrop" is a soda and "rainshine" is everything from a farm to diapers.
My musing was interrupted when, at the stop light by our house, I noticed steam coming from my hood. Only then did I recall Mom's earlier warning about the radiator overheating. No light on the dash, though, just a funny smell and a little steam, so I begged the red light to turn green.
It took forever, and when it did I only got to our street before I had to stop again. For a school bus.
I've been dreading my first encounter with a school bus since school began. So far, I've been lucky. I've only seen one, and I was four cars behind it. This time, I was in the turn lane right by it. But I survived. Another stupid fear relieved.
Of course, while I was waiting, my car started steaming again. Grrr! Move it, you sad little public school children! Stop looking at your phones and get off the road! I have come to believe that this so called "distracted walking" phenomenon exists.
Finally, the road was clear, the bus was on its merry way, and I could go. When I pulled into the driveway and parked the car, I did what any loving car owner would do: I popped the hood.
I think it was only for some personal need to feel like a normal person. When I finally found the latch that released the hood, I just stared at the engine and hemmed and hawed for a couple minutes, leaning around to look at nothing in particular from every angle. And then I took that long to figure out how to put the hood back down.
Right. Sense of self-importance and general intelligence: not satisfied.
So now I'm writing this. When I have a boatload of laundry to sort and fold and sort and put away, dogs that probably should be walked, if only for their sakes and not mine, and my real life to get on with. Namely, working that silly little hobby I still dream of making my real job.
Up next (being...by Friday, if I'm good), I'll continue to discuss that notion of changing my blog title. I have given it more than a second thought over the last few weeks. I even started to blog about it at Grandma's, but never finished. Big surprise.