Oh What A Week It's Been

Seriously. What. a. week. The phrase, "stick a fork in me, I'm done!" seems fairly accurate.

My last post was about the new kitty I adopted. I had been eyeing her for a month at the Humane Society kiosk inside Petsmart - every weekend I grew more fond of her. I finally convinced Boyfriend to agree and we managed to get our landlord to agree as well. We knew our other cat, Wyatt, missed having Harriet around and could use a playmate. The Humane Society had named her "Starla", but Boyfriend and I both agreed we needed something else. After a few days, Boyfriend came up with a name that I think suits her, and we both like it. "Lacey" is her new name and it's taken two weeks to come out of her shell, but she's a happy cat. Her favorite place is usually under the spare bed; if not there, then the window sill in the "cat room". She now comes out around the house, plays with Wyatt (and usually kicks hiss ass a little, too), and is showing her sweet side.

The weekend that I adopted Lacey, my Nana and Mom both came down with a horrible flu-like bug. Terrible, horrible. One you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy. Wednesday night, it hit me. At 1:30 in the morning. Fortunately I had been forewarned regarding all that happens, so I wasn't surprised that I had to immediately jump in the shower. I figure I lost close to ten pounds in two days. While I was physically sick for one day, I didn't eat for nearly two and lost a lot of fluids. I went to work Friday morning simply to do payroll, to ensure it got done the way I do it.

The weekend I wasn't feeling well, I called in sick to my weekend job. I just didn't have the strength or stamina to stand/walk for four hours at a time. We made a quick stop at the Peddler's Fair, where I found the gal that makes the soap I love, and bought soaps. Then, we took the boat out on Lewiston Lake, and putted around. The speed limit is only 10mph on the entire lake - the lake is actually a very large river, really. When Trinity Dam releases water from Trinity Lake, it flows into the original riverbed, which was never dredged; and flows to Lewiston Dam where water will be released into the original Trinity River, which goes to Whiskeytown Lake. Yeah, I know, confusing. Basically, Lewiston Lake is barely a lake, it's more a really big river. There I started my tan. It was a nice, relaxing day.

Monday brought a busy work week as I'm trying to figure out our worker's comp insurance, retyped the Rules and Regulations, paid a bunch of bills, and began working on a updated 2014 Budget - with actual figures for the first half and better estimates for the rest of the year. Next up will be working on a budget for the beginning of 2015 and then maybe try to work out a 5 year budget. We'll need that sort of thing for future grants anyway. Plus we had a board meeting and I had to get everything ready for that. Also? We are in dire need of replacing our second river pump - most water companies have some sort of "redundant" system, so that if one pump fails, we still have another to pull water from the River (which is our back-up source in the summer). One of our pumps doesn't work. It hasn't for 15 years. Looks like it will cost a minimum of $15,000. We were hoping to get emergency funds from the State to reimburse us, but since we have some money socked away in a CD, we won't get reimbursed. It's all on us. Bleh.

Wednesday brought a headache in the form of a water pipe buried TWELVE FEET. Why someone would bury it that far down, I'm not sure. But Boyfriend tore up the pipe because he couldn't see anything from the backhoe and the hole was muddy and had water in it. The school, which is where they were digging, has had no running water since Wednesday. Boyfriend discovered that it's a copper pipe and had to order parts. Then he discovered it wasn't 2" pipe, it was 3" pipe, which evidently 3" copper pipe is practically unheard of. While the students are out of school for summer, admin staff are still there and have no water. They are livid, even though, Boyfriend is moving as fast as he can to get parts to fix it. All this to install a meter. *sigh*

We got GREAT NEWS on Wednesday, too. The grant I applied for three weeks ago - just heard back that we are among 8 companies selected to receive money!!! It still has to be approved by the Policy Review Committee, but at least we are in the running. I actually got teary when I read the email.

Thursday night, Boyfriend and I went to see the Eli Young Band in Redding. It was a good show. :)   And don't let my camera fool you, I could actually see his facial expressions, although my camera makes it look like I'm far away. lol We had pretty good seats.

In the middle of the night, Boyfriend woke me up - he was sick. He is sure his is actual food poisoning and not the weird flu-like bug that resembles food poisoning in how quick and violently it hits you. In in the middle of this, he's making phone calls to somehow get running water back to the school since now we can't get parts until Monday. If the school doesn't kill us in our sleep, we should count our lucky stars.

And now, I'm starving, so I think I will have some leftover fish tacos I made a couple nights ago. Pretty sure Boyfriend won't eat anything; food poisoning or the flu will kill whatever appetite you have. I'm hiding in the bedroom while he's sleeping in the living room. I don't want my typing to disturb him. However, dinner will. It's a catch 22. Oh well. I just hope next week is better.

 

April Blogging Challenge: P is for "Playing Hooky"

I have a confession. I can cop to it now that I no longer work for my previous employer. In the 6.5 years that I worked there, I called in "sick" when I wasn't twice. And both times were in my last year. In my defense, I rarely ever call in sick anywhere, even when I am sick. And both times I did it, I was stressed and could really use the extra day. And the last time, I was going to lose all my sick time if I didn't use it and I was leaving soon anyway . . . so, yeah.

Last summer, my mom told me that Clay Walker was the headliner at the Shasta District Fair. I had seen him 15 years prior, and had been a big fan. He kind of went out of the spotlight for several years while he dealt with his MS. And now he's back. And he's still sexy. Anyway, my mom kinda-sorta (meaning, not really) twisted my arm to get me to call in sick to attend the concert in Anderson. It was totally worth it. She and I had a great evening. We sang along to songs we knew; my mom only knew some of his older stuff.

And the second time, was this past New Years. I called in sick for two days to make it look like I was actually sick, seeing as how it was a holiday. And Karma caught up to me, and I fought a nice cold and cough for quite awhile. The reason I called in sick (besides those mentioned above), was that I had been invited by WB to a New Years party. What you should understand is, that this holiday is one of those that never seems to work with me. It's rare for me to have a good New Years, and those that were good, I was at work. I just wanted a fun New Years. Is that really too much to ask for?

So, after much internal debate (and yes, truly there was), I finally decided to call in and attend the party. I felt guilty, but New Years is the lightest night at work, and considering I'd worked nearly every New Years since I was hired, I figured . . . what could they do - fire me? I had already put in my notice that I was leaving.

I played hooky to attend a party where I knew no one, except the guy who was hosting it. That made it awkward for me, I didn't know anyone. And I have a tendency to be a wallflower when that happens. Not long after I arrived there, everyone seemed to go off in groups to do stuff - and it was easy for them as they all knew each other. The girl cooking in the kitchen finally allowed me to help her. She was super nice, and we had a good time that night. Once people started piling back in, I started joking around with people. My only fear was being asked the question, "So, how do you know WB?" Because that is a very long and complicated answer to be fully honest. I really don't want to get into it here. So, instead of gulping and sputtering the truth, I simply told a white lie - "Oh, we went to Chico State." Now, I said white lie - the truth is, we both attended at roughly the same time, but we never met during that time. Truth is we met several years later. Luckily for me, no one really asked for further details, and thank God, as I'm not sure I could have thought my way out of that one too quickly.

I wound up having a good time. I met a lot of great people, one of those people had the talent to make me a drink that smelled like Kool-Aid, yet tasted like NyQuil. That's talent. I got my car really dirty for the first time. I'm talking serious mud.

So, playing hooky really isn't too bad if it's done in moderation. I figure twice in all the time I worked for my previous employer isn't bad at all. I know that there were people who did it quite often. While I felt guilty, I also recognized that I really needed the de-stressing. My old job was hard on me - I had a knot in my right shoulder so bad that it actually popped when I walked or moved my shoulder. You can ask my mom - she had to rub it out on more than one occasion.

April Blogging Challenge: E is for Entertainment

So what does a Sacramento transplant do to entertain herself after moving to Sticksville? Why, fall face first into mudshit, that's what. But besides running around after cows on an ATV making the cow shit fly everywhere, trying not to get run over by a possessed cow, and falling down in 2 foot deep mud, what else does a girl do?

Well, I do love to annoy my cat, Miss Harriet. You know, pamper her with so much love and attention that the normal look of disdain turns into a look that says, "I'm plotting ways to kill you in  your sleep". Plus I love it when she gets a wild hair up her ass and every tiny thing freaks her out, so that all I have to do is take one step towards her and she does 5 laps around the house before stopping.

I'm not sure how I survived before Netflix. I mean, seriously? Oddly enough, I do remember thinking, "OMG how lazy do you have to be to have your movies mailed to you?!" when I first heard about it. Yes, I'm a hypocrite. Not intentionally, though. And I'm not sure how I survived before I had DSL (and now wireless) so that I could watch stuff instantly while waiting for movies through the mail. I have more movies and TV shows in my que than I care to admit. I have just watched two Russell Crowe movies (Robin Hood and 3:10 to Yuma) and really enjoyed them. I just received a couple discs of the show Chuck (don't judge).

Reading. Oh, this is going to become a very expensive addiction habit. I'm sure you can find previous posts about my obsession with Jane Austen related books. In fact my very first April Blogging Challenge post was about Jane Austen. I've branched out in regards to authors in the past two or three years. Some I have really enjoyed, others I'm not so sure. I've been a huge Dean Koontz fan since high school. Stephen King's novels make me seriously wonder how that man can sleep at night. I've started reading Kathy Reichs (Bones is based on her books), and I've enjoyed what I've read. Alice Sebold had me a little weirded out with Almost Moon. And I love love love the Harry Potter books.

I enjoy concerts, although I seriously think that most artists these days are charging way too much for tickets. A couple summers ago, I went with a group of friends to see Nickelback at the Marysville Amphitheater, the tickets cost about $70 per person with the taxes and fees added. Manageable. The very next spring, I looked up tickets to see Rascal Flatts there - wanting the same seats (not up front, but not lawn seats) and the damn things were $160!!! What. The. FUCK. Really? Highway robbery, folks, highway robbery. As much as I love me some Rascal Flatts, I will never pay $160 for tickets. Unless I get to meet them backstage and get to spend the day with them and they put me in their next video. I've been to tons of concerts since I was about 11 years old. They're a lot of fun, and in some cases  you get to shake your booty a little, too.

MLW: Stagecoach Festival

A few years back I went with two good friends to the very first Stagecoach Festival - for those that aren't into country music (which is probably most of my followers!), it's a two day country music festival in Indio, California. I had gotten wind of this concert by listening to the radio on my way to work during my short stint at UC Davis. I was ecstatic because George Strait would be there, and I love me some George Strait. Also, one of my good friends loves him, too, and we'd sworn to each other that we would one day see him live.

When we broke down the ticket prices along with the camping prices, it averaged to be something like $25 or less to see each act. Not a bad deal.


The trip didn't start that great. We stopped at a grocery store on our way out of town to get snack items for the cooler. Being the dingbat that I am, I left the car running . . . with the doors locked. So we had to wait in the rain for the AAA to come out and unlock my doors. It was all downhill from there.


When we arrived at the polo grounds in Indio, we hauled everything in and claimed a campsite. Once all set up, we walked into the grounds and bought a couple drinks. The next day the festival started.


There was music going from like 11am to when the headliners finally finished. There were a total of four stages, music playing all day long on each stage. The year we went, were able to see Marty Stuart, Willy Nelson, Sugarland, Gary Allen, Sara Evans, Alan Jackson, Brooks & Dunn, and Kenny Chesney.

Most people were actually pretty pleasant to deal with while standing around waiting for shows to start or during the shows. We didn't pay for the actual seats, that was like an additional $200. I don't think so, Tim. The three of us has a good time, and enjoyed wandering around aimlessly from stage to stage and stopping randomly to see who wanted to attempt the mechanical bull. We each bought a our little group a round of margaritas, which was a small fortune indeed.


They had showers available, which was awesome. And naturally, there was a line at the woman's shower and never one at the guys' shower. That shit is seriously not fair. On the second morning, our line wasn't moving at all for the longest time, and a couple guys came out of their shower, saw our line, and offered the men's side as no one was in there. All the women were like, "yeah buddy, sure". They insisted, having noted that all of us had been there when they had gone in and were leaving. Finally a handful of women (not including myself or my friend) took the guys up on their offer. These two guys stood sentinel outside, so the girls could have some time in the shower. Slowly a line built up outside the men's shower, and no one really complained until the guy responsible for the showers themselves walked around the corner and noted a line at the men's side, which is far from normal. He promptly pushed passed the sentinels, walked into the men's shower and hollered at the women to the get the hell out of there before he shuts down all the showers. The women barely had time to get a towel wrapped around themselves and grab their items, as the guy was practically shoving them out the door. Even the men in line thought the guy was a prick. Sadly, no other men offered to let the women shower on their side. And we were forced to continue waiting our turn.


Once the festival was done, we headed back. My girlfriend wanted to stop by the beach on the trip back home, so we started out that way. We decided before we left the area to visit Joshua Tree National Park. I've never felt so windblown in my life. Once done wandering around there, we decided to officially head out.

FYI, never let your navigator sit in the back seat. Also, never let said navigator unknowingly take a long nap in the back seat. Never trust said navigator when they say, "Just stay on this forever, and it'll take us right to the beach". Seriously, just don't.


We followed this road, and after a few hours, thought, "hmmm, we should have reached the ocean by now". We had no idea where we were. Except that we were lost in the Mojave. In case you were curious, not the best place to get lost. Navigator told us we should have gotten on the freeway. Now, he had never mentioned a freeway. And when we looked at the map, we couldn't find what road we were on. About that time, we finally figured it out. Someone's random driveway had this at the top so we could see it: Route 66.


Needless to say, we never saw the damn beach. We did however, get the great fortune of driving through Hinkley. If you've ever seen Erin Brockovich, then you know the town of which I speak. Don't drink the water. And don't stop to go pee - they charge you. Seriously. Well, they force you to buy something, so basically, they're charging you to pee. How rude.


I wanted to go the next year as Rascal Flatts was going to be there, but no one had the money to go. We haven't been back since. However, we attended the very first Stagecoach Festival, and that was fairly special. I heard the crowds were nearly doubled the second year, which wouldn't have been as nice to contend with. But we had a good weekend. Even if we did get lost.

I leave you with this picture - Who knew that changing a blinker could be so damn difficult?!

Memory Lane Wednesday: Best. Concert. EVER.

Okay, so I do realize it's Thursday night and I'm only now getting around to posting my one weekly doodad. (Wow, that's actually a word lol).  My excuse is this: My internet is an ass. Literally. I only just got it back today. Apparently some glitch in the system (not mine) saying my bill was overdue. Three days of bitching and complaining and wouldn't you know it? Suddenly my money showed up. WTF?

Anyway, so now I can watch the last fucking 10 minutes of Bones I was watching on Monday when it died suddenly of a coronary. Now I can read my blogs and catch up. I haven't even been on Facebook since Monday morning. I was starting to have serious internet withdrawals. It's one thing when I go on vacation and remove myself from the internet, but it's quite another when my internet is dead. Jackasses. All of them. And before you leave a comment regarding whether or not I have a "smart phone" . . . I don't. I don't even have a "data plan" on my phone so it costs an arm and a leg to check the internet. Smart phones cost money. Damn it.

So, albeit a day late, here is this week's memory. Not sure why I feel bad . . . it is my blog after all and I can do what I want when I want. Right?

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About a year and a half ago, the most amazing concert ever happened. Well, in my life at least. Nickelback came to town in August of 2009. I had found out several months before, in spring, and was itching to go. I put out on MySpace and Facebook that they were coming to town and wondered who would go with me. In total, there was 13 of us. It. Was. Freaking. Awesome.

Half the group came from Redding. The other half from Sacramento. The concert was taking place at the Amphitheater in Marysville. However, during this whole concert fiasco, I find out it's actually closer to a town called Wheatland. Seriously, this venue is surrounded by cattle pasture. It's awesome.

I had this idea for all of us to meet for pizza before the concert so both parties could officially meet. Well, that sorta blew up in my face. Two people from the Sacramento group had to come later as they had class. So, no pizza for them. The folks from Redding wound up so lost, my friend R said this: "I could have given better directions while giving head!" (And that folks, is probably the most perverse thing ever mentioned on my blog). I had called a friend and asked if there was a pizza parlor in Wheatland easy for everyone to find. She gave me directions to one, and I passed this on to the Redding group, which obviously was of no help.

Me, Mway, and PV had pizza. Then we got phone calls from two different cars involving the Redding group that they each wanted large pizzas. The poor pizza guys were so nice and waited to make them, so they'd still be hot when the cars arrived. Then they called and asked where we were as they were at the pizza parlor. They were in Marysville, not Wheatland. Yeah.

Turns out, we had to take those pizzas to go, as they next phone call we got was, "We're at the venue, where are you?" Um. Still waiting for you. At the fucking pizza parlor. We run to the venue, and oddly enough, as we're driving through clouds of dust, my cell phone rings and R says, "Hey are you in a little blue car?!" I said yes, and she said, "Look to your right!" We three look to the right and there are women standing on top of a big ass truck jumping and waving and screaming. Found 'em.

We park, and start heading that way. Although, we nearly forgot the pizza. Then the tickets. Neither were good things to lose. The Redding group scarfed their pizzas, and left leftovers in their trucks as "hangover food". Yikes.

We get to the front gates just to get frisked. The gal loved the look of shock on my face. I'm a wee bit shy about getting too frisky in public, and not even the folks in the airports made me make a face. This was no normal pat down folks. It was nearly a strip search, without taking off any clothes. Once I was done, I turned around to see R making the same face as me, and she's nowhere near as shy as me. She agreed with me that usually strangers don't get that far.

We missed the first band to open, but none of us cared. We got to see Hinder and Papa Roach open for Nickelback, and had a good time. Between bands, all of us were visiting and laughing and snapping pics. It wasn't too hot, with was odd, since it was August. In California. By the time Papa Roach took the stage, it was dusk and it was wonderful outside. We were having the time of our lives.

And then came Nickelback. Now that shit was FUN. I mean it. Best. Concert. Ever. Every single one of us was dancing around like idiots, singing to every single song. They had their pyrotechnics show, they were funny, and our group screamed like idiots when they sat down to play "Friends in Low Places" (originally done by Garth Brooks). I mean, it's not often you hear a rock band singing a country song. Especially that country.

Once the concert was over, we could hardly talk, but we were all grinning from ear to ear. Definitely worth the small fortune to see them. Technically the concert started at like, 6pm. It was nearly midnight when it was all over. Totally awesome. R and B waited in line on the way out to buy t-shirts. The rest of us kept going and found the same shirts being hocked outside the gates for like $10. Best. Deal. Ever. R and B spent like $40 on the same shirts. We made it to their trucks and waited for the traffic to clear before heading out. We ate leftover pizza, and just hung out.

I've been to lots of concerts (all country) and they were all fun and enjoyable. But this one . . . this one was different. I think it was the large group of friends, the atmosphere, everything. I don't know. I doubt any other concert will live up to that one, even if I have a blast. I still listen to their CD's and think of the concert and smile. I hope to see them again, someday, hopefully with others from that same group.