achievable goals.

New rule: no blogging when hungover.

I re-read yesterday's post, and I apologize.  That story is actually a much funnier story, and I can be a lot more candid than that.  I blame my hangover.

The fact that I was even hungover is foolish anyways.  I had made the executive decision that I would allow my body to detox this weekend.  In other words, NO ALCOHOL. 

See for the last few weeks I've taken to drinking and partying like a rock-star (vacation to Florida, BF's bachlorette party, etc, etc.).  I'm not sure who I really think I am with this behavior, but trust me when I say I have the ability to party like a rock star.  So I decided on Thursday that I was going to take this weekend off. 

At least I was successful for Friday night.

On saturday I had to go to the bridal store with my friend to learn how to "bustle" her dress (ridiculous MOH duties).  The store was an hour away, and she made her apointment for 12PM.  In my head I think ok cool, we'll do the bustling scenario, do some dress shopping for her rehearsal dinner, and get some lunch.  Not such a bad day.

To start off, nearly the entire drive there, her and her Mother bickered.  We arrive at the store and I get ready to learn about my bustling duties.  Instead, I stood there as they stuck pins in her and decided how they were going to SEW the bustle.  She said woops, guess you didn't need to be here for this one, you'll have to come to the next one.  Oh, okay, sure.  I mean I'm sure I have NOTHING else to do.

As we leave, I'm hoping the day isn't a complete wash.  But alas, I should have never gotten my hopes up.  Her and her fiance wanted to go away for the weekend, so after the pinning and staring at my friend in her dress, she wanted to head straight home.  In other words, no shopping, no lunch, no nothing.  As we began driving I started to get motion sick out of starvation.  I convinced them that a DD stop would be necessary, and I grabbed some munchkins to get by.

As you can imagine, I wasn't pumped about this entire state of affairs.  But whatever, I'm pretty good at just going with it.  So I got home, changed into some grubby clothes, hung out outside for a bit with my dog, and then got ready to run some errands (aka drop off farm fresh eggs at my cousins, pick up my a/c at my parents house, yada yada).  As I was heading out, with my dog in the back seat, I got a text from my sister....heyy meet up with us (she was with my cousin) so we can make plans for the night.  I figure alright, I'll meet them, make some plans, then head home and get ready.

I should have just realized that nothing is that simple.  We met up, which turned into like a complete family affair, multiple cousins stopped by, my whole family, the dogs, and all.

No one wanted to go out, so we opted for a grill out at my cousins house.  My sister decided I could drive her to the store for groceries.  Which I did.

We got to my cousins' house, and she had bought a Sam Adams sampler pack for us, so I mean of course I had to have a drink.  For some reason, I started slamming them back (remember no lunch, I clearly make good choices).  We grilled out, had some delicious burgers and hot dogs, and I fed my dog like half of my dinner so he wasn't hungry.

Then we made a campfire.  Which my cousins' husband was pouring gasoline on, and the flame went flying up into the bottle, which he had to throw, and like an 8 foot fire broke out on their lawn.  He yelled for us to back up because it might blow and then ran for the hose.

He dragged the hose back and nothing came out.  GET THE KINKS!  My sister and my cousin went running to un-do all the kinks.  I stood there with my dog (I mean I couldn't let him get close), eating a brownie, drinking a beer, and watching the shenanigans.  They got the fire out, successfully made the bonfire, and we all chilled for a bit with some drinks.

Then my sister asks me to go to the bar with her in a couple towns over.  Umm, well I have my dog, I haven't showered, I'm wearing grubby jeans that haven't been washed in several wears, a sports bra (as if I don't have a chest that looks enough like a school aged boys'), a ratty old tee, I haven't washed or brushed my hair, and I don't really want to drive there at midnight.  I actually think I said no a couple times.

Clearly my "no" is not very effective.  I drove us to the bar, had some of their own brewed beer, and hung out with her and some of her friends, until the bar closed. 

Then I drove her home, drove me and my dog home (take note I was not drunk driving, I refuse to that, I was still clearheaded enough to drive), fed him a very late night/early morning dinner,  made up my love-seat bed (I'll explain later), and put my grubby self under the covers at approximately 2:45AM. 

I woke up at 7AM feeling like hell.  I made some coffee, ate a bagel, and proceeded to lay on the floor with my dog.  As I lay there thinking (rule #2: no thinking when hungover, it just leads to depressing & miserable thoughts), I decided well maybe I should post on my blog.  So I dragged myself to my old school computer, found that the internet connetion was working, and got to work.  I thought I was somewhat successful, but I re-read it this morning, and like I said: I apologize. 

Obviously no drinking for an entire weekend was a silly goal, that was, in fact un-achievable.  So my new goal is to not post when hung-over.  Or I'll lose any fan base with my bland and boring posts.

Don't lose faith friends, I think I can be successful with this goal.

befriending bears.

My dog is one of kind.  Truly unique and I love him.

He has a pretty impressive knack of finding various creatures and making friends with them. 

One afternoon, about a year ago, I was driving home to my apartment (I say apartment, it was actually dubbed the "uni-bomb shack" by several friends, so saying apartment may be embellishing a bit).  It had been raining all day.  But rain is no biggie so I figured I'd stop at a trail on my way home, do a quick loop, and let my dog burn off some energy.

The trail I stopped at is a pretty popular trail, I actually tend to avoid it in nice weather because there are so many people out there.  This day, because of all the rain, there was not one person out there.  It was also later in the evening, so I'm sure everyone had called it quits for the night.

Anyways, my dog and I set off, did the loop I wanted to do, and started heading back the main section of trail.  I don't leash him, he doesn't need it as he stays right with me and responds very well to cues.

As we're heading up the main section I look up ahead and think to myself, well shit, that is the biggest dog I have ever seen in my life!  I figured, gotta be a Newfie (seriously this thing HOUSED my dog, who isn't little), and I actually looked up to the woods to connect with the owner.  While I was doing all this, I never gave any verbal command to my dog.

Well, my dog went running up ahead to meet this "Newfie."  As he got closer to it, it dawned on me.  FUCKING HELL, that's a BEAR!

Well, my dog didn't seem to think this was an issue, as he and this bear headed into the woods together.

I start hysterically screaming, shouting, and blowing my safety whistle (randomly my Mother bought me this one day, and I happened to put it in my rain jacket pocket previously)....just an fyi, safety whistles are useless.  First no one responds when you are out in the middle of no-where and secondly WTF are they actually going to do?

While I'm nearing a panic stricken state and picturing myself hoisting my 90lb dog over my shoulders to carry him out of the woods and get him medical attention, he's hanging out in the woods with this bear. 

Moments later he poked his head of the woods and looked at me like "what the bloody hell is all this racket about." 

I ran to him with complete relief that he was moving.  Mind you he was still standing right where the bear went into the woods, but yes I ran to him.  I checked him over, found that there was not one scratch on him, took a deep breathe, and told him we were heading out. 

We started walking.  After a few steps I decided to turn and take a peek, make sure all was good in the hood.

Oh, hello MOTHER bear.

I have never in my entire life had my whole body just drain of emotion that quickly.

As I stood there in front of this enormous black bear, with my dog next to me, I realized: I've got nothing.  So as she turned to stare at us, I thought "here I am.  I'm yours for the taking." 

She locked eyes with me, and then continued across after her cub.

As quickly as I was prepared to offer this bear my life, now I was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief.  My body was vibrating with adrenaline, WHO THE HELL DOES THIS SHIT HAPPEN TO?

Not only was my dog effing hanging out and playing with a bear cub, but I stood in-between the Mother bear and her cub (AKA ONE OF THE WORST DECISIONS YOU CAN MAKE).

How was I not attacked?  How was my dog not attacked?  What, for goodness sake, was my dog doing with this bear cub, playing?  Does shit like this actually happen?

Friends who are avid outdoors-people are a bit baffled by this story.  My friends' Father said that for some reason the Mother bear must not have seen me as a threat (must have been that gosh darn safety whistle!).

I'm considering this my one scrape by with unbelievable luck. 

So the fact that there is a 700lb black bear currently roaming through my yard each night, eeks me out a bit.  I can't possibly be that lucky twice.

accidental drug bust.

So, as I was walking through the woods with my dog last night.  I was thinking about how I was going to organize my blog.  Should I start with the early years and slowly make my way up until now so that you understand more of who I am?  Ultimately I've decided I'm going to just roll with it, and whatever it is I want to write about, I'm going to write about.

Today, it's going to be about an accidental drug bust.  I'm serious, it was an accident.

The house across the road and down a ways from me had a family living in it when I first moved to my apartment.  I didn't really get to know them well, just happened to say hi occasionally if I saw them outside.  Or that one time I was walking by as the guy was yelling, while all sorts of angry at his wife, and then came crashing outside and broke the door off the hinges.  My dog thought about peeing on their mailbox as we walked by, I told him he better think again, and then tried to walk by all casual like. 

Before winter really struck, the family moved out (I wasn't that upset seeing as they had 3 poorly trained & underexercised dogs, one of which bit off part of my neighbors' dogs' ear).  But anyways, they were gone.

As winter came barreling through, after each significant storm the guy would come and plow out the house.  Literally that was the only time I ever saw anyone there.  But I also work a 9-5PM job, so who knows what was going on there during the day, certainly I didn't know.

One evening, after a bad storm, he arrived, plowed the driveway, and left again.  No biggie.

The next morning I went for a walk, I opted to stay on the road this particular morning because the snow was ridiculously high and had that hard crust on the top that my dog broke through with every step, which makes for a not very fun walk.  Anyways, so as I'm walking down the road, my dog (unleashed, he's that good!) stopped at the end of the driveway, looked at me, and kind of began to meander his way closer to the house.  I asked him to stop and then I realized, crap the fire alarm is going off.

I wasn't sure what I was going to do about the situation, so I decided I would continue on my merry-way and when I walked back past the house on my way home, if the alarm was still going off, I would deal with it then.

As I was walking, I decided that with my luck I would get home from work and the house would be burned to the ground, and I would feel like an utter asshole.  Ugh, so I decided to call the non-emergency line for the local police department. 

Now I'm terrible on the phone, so when I called it was something like "Ohhhh hi!  So I live on such and such a road and the house is abandoned across the street, but not really abandoned because the guy still plows it, but anyways they have a fire alarm going off.  Now I'm sure it's probaly a low battery or something, but if you know me, which you don't hahaha, you would know that with my luck I wouldn't call you guys and the house would burn down while I was at work.  I don't really want that to fall on my shoulders or that to happen at all."  To which she responded, if you can please just give me the address I can have someone check on the house.  Ohhh, right okay, thanks.

I went to work feeling like I successfully performed my neighborly duty.

I left work early this particular day because my sister invited me to be her wingman at a show in the city (another story for another post, trust me you'll want more info).  Anyways, so I got home around 2:30ish, to like seven police cars lining the road in front of the house with the alarm.  I thought to myself, phew!  Thank goodness I called, it must have been a basement fire or something.

I grabbed my dog to go for a stroll and strike up a brief conversation with one of the officers.  I walked up and said "Wow, am I glad you guys showed up, and that I called!  Must have been a real fire or something, like holy crap!"  He frowned down at me (likely thinking what is wrong with this girl), and said oh you're the one that called, thanks, yea we're just checking out a few things.

So I went back inside, got ready for this impromptu concert, and left in the early evening.  While I was driving I got a phone call from a neighbor.  He just wanted to clue me in with what was going on across the street in case I was wondering about all the cops. 

I CALLED IN A GROW HOUSE. 

The alarm was going off because it got damp, an icicle fell in a window or something ridiculous.  I heard the alarm, called it in, they checked on the house, and found an intricate grow system set up. 

Seriously.

When they found the family at the house they actually lived in, they also found a couple unlicensed guns. 

I told the chief of police that my name was to removed off of any documentation and that no one better know it was me that called.

I also asked if I could get a few freebies on my next couple pull-overs since I called in the biggest drug bust in the town's history.

Additionally I said my dog could do detective work if they needed the help.

well, hello there.

Success.

For years now people have been telling me to either apply to have my life become a reality tv show or start a blog.  I'm not sure people would be interested in watching the debacle that is my life, so I figure a blog is my best bet.  Honestly though, I'm not a very captivating writer.  So if my writing is horrendous, I apologize already and realistically you don't have to read this if it's that bad.  I understand, trust me.  Because I'm pretty sure my thoughts are not congruent what-so-ever (ADHD anyone?) and I have a habit of going off on a tangent.

Anyways, I figure I might as well introduce me.  I'm 26 years old living in a no one knows where town in the Eastern United States.  In other words, I live in the woods.  Seriously, like someone on my road developed an internet provider just so our road could have internet access.  And that access, well it doesn't work when it's cloudy, rainy, or windy and when it's nice out, generally someone is working on it, so it doesn't work then either.  Cell reception is spotty at best, and that's if I'm standing out on my deck.  My neighbor (I say neighbor loosely because I've never actually seen the house, but I'm told they're relatively close enough to call them a neighbor), well they feed black bears in their backyard, seriously.  There is also a large number of coyotes, which means that when I let my dog out in the morning it's possible he may find a deer leg or something in my yard (it happened, I threw it in the garbage).  That all sounds like I'm kind of complaining, and I'm not.  I love where I live.  I have trails right out of my yard that lead right down to the river, my road is extremely quiet so that if I decide to walk down it, I don't have to leash my dog, and you can't see my neighbors so I can let my dog outside and not have to worry about yard boundaries (best ever).  Crap, see tangent.  I was supposed to be introducing myself and instead I talked about where I live.

Well let's see, I'm a complete nutter.  I'm not kidding.  And generally the most ridiculous things happen to me.  Like, if something is going to happen, it will happen to me.  It's just how it is and I've come to terms with it.  I figure it makes for good stories. 

My reason for this blog is to document the upside of my unfortunate luck and the ridiculous adventures I have.  And I have unfortunate luck  and ridiculous adventures let me tell you.  I don't really understand the unfortunate luck though, because I literally find at least 100 4-leaf clovers every summer.  I've taken to just passing them out to people because if they aren't going to give me luck, maybe they'll benefit someone else. 

Anyways, I kinda have taken to embracing my unfortunate luck because it makes me, well me.  I've taken more than my fair share of knocks and somehow keep plugging along with as much upbeatedness as I possibly can maintain.

Additionally, I have lots of intentions to spill way too much information about my life.  Seriously, I need to spill it somewhere.  My head is going to explode if I keep maintaining all these racing thoughts inside.

So, I guess welcome.  And hopefully you'll enjoy.