April 2006

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April 2006

April 27, 2006

I'm not sure how to organize all of these thoughts. My head hurts, so it's probably just a big jumble. Mayhap getting closer to a freewrite.

Sometimes do you wonder if the past really happened? If you look back over your life and the distance between now and then seems so great that it can't be possible the past really was your life, do you ever think it's someone else's life?

The last couple of days I've been thinking about a former lover. Haven't talked to him in awhile. I made a conscious decision to separate myself from him so as not to be continually hurt by him, and while we still exchange pleasantries, it's almost hard to believe that at one point in time we were that close.

It's different from the end of my relationship with Dax. There's not that sense of surrealness/unrealness there. I have to wonder if he feels the same. I wonder if it's worth it to ask him the question. Maybe I will. But then again...what's the point? *sigh*

Anyway see the story about the Republican proposal to give us all a $100 gas rebate? Are you freakin' kidding me? What good is that going to do? Is it going to be like quarterly? When prices go above $3.00/gallon nationally, will the great gas rebate in the sky be triggered? Criminey. What a bunch of bullshit.

I forgot that I'm supposed to try to donate platelets tomorrow.

Went for a motorcycle ride this afternoon. I really, really want one. I needed a light jacket when we were riding...could have been about 5 degrees warmer and then it would have been perfect. As it was, it was pretty nice, though. Will told me that the bike is getting about 35 mpg. Then again, he does have that beast of a bike. That might help with the gas prices. *sigh*

April 24, 2006

Am exhausted. It was a long weekend, and today was an extremely stressful day. I hate it when people don't do what they're supposed to. Pisses me off.

Wanted to let you know that if there are pics you want to keep...ones from this site, you need to go through and do some right-clicking and saving. I have something like 200 spring break photos to upload, and I've decided that I don't want to pay for more webspace, so the older photos are coming down. quite a few of them. Perhaps all but stuff from the lat year or so. So. Best git 'em while the gittin's good. Si?

It's 8:30, and I think I'm going to be going to bed here relatively soon. I need to take the trash out and water some plants that are outside.

There's some stuff to be said, but right now I can't think of it. Sorry.

April 21, 2006

Still unwell. Now battling headache. Have been all day long.

We are at Twin Lakes Conference and Retreat Center. Extremely lovely place. I think it's going to be a good retreat. I really, really do. But my head hurts.

Talked to Cassie. I think we're gonna plan a party up here after the summer institute. Good to see her.

Need to go to bed. Really.

April 20, 2006

OK...I'm unwell. That last two nights I've been feeling out of sorts. Not quite a seizure, but almost. Some weird tingly/numbness in my lower back that radiates to a dull pins and needles feeling down my legs. Kind of comes and goes in waves...more intense in some moments than others. Kind of difficult to concentrate.

Almost feels like it's difficult to breathe. You know how when you've had a a bad cold or fever and every breath is an effort? It's not that I'm having difficulty breathing. It's just that I'm tired and I almost feel like it's too much bother.

There's so much to get done. *sigh* The retreat starts tomorrow. Very Nervous about that.

And tonight, I found out that I apparently blew off my reviews for Doors to Diplomacy. I thought they were due Sunday by midnight. They were due last Friday. *sigh* I suck.

Need to go to bed. Gonna go to bed.

But before I go, whiney people who are very ego-centric bug the shit out of me. If I said I'd let you know, I'll fucking let you know. Leave me the hell alone.

April 17, 2006

It's way hot here. It was supposed to have gone to 94 today. I can't believe that's already that hot right now. Lordamercy.

Am back from vacation. Totally not happy to be here. I was sad the entire drive back from Atlanta.

The best part of being back is that the kids are happy to see me. They're both hanging close. It doesn't appear that Peach has barbered herself too badly.

April 13, 2006

With apologies in advance to the boys in the audience...

I can't remember getting my first period. I have some vague recollection that I was in fifth grade? That would make me about 11, right? I seem to recall being at Grandma Atwell's, in that first bedroom on the right at the top of the second floor stairs. I think the Sner and I had a talk about how walking would help with the cramps and how in a couple of months, we could try using tampons.

Somewhere along the line, I remember having a conversation with Aunt Carol about tampons, and her telling me that OB were really preferable as they were so small that you could have one in your hand and no one would know *that's* what you were going to the bathroom to do. Nice in theory, but in reality? What kid, who is just getting used to the whole bleeding thing wants to have to put her finger inside of herself to insert an applicator-less thing? No one might know it was in your hand on the way to the bathroom, but people in the bathroom would certainly know what you'd been doing when you went to wash your hand afterward. (I tried OB once...haven't been back to it since)

I'm not quite sure what the logic was in waiting to try tampons, though. I can't imagine having a period and having to rely on using a pad. Gross, gross, gross. First there's the smell. And then there's the blood. Ewww. Ick. Gross. I don't want to *see* that. (which probably speaks to some self-loathing or some such. I'm fine with that. Really)

I really hate that I can no longer use Instead. It truly was the best of all possible worlds. If you had to have a period, at least you didn't have to worry about it. I was comfortable with Instead. No "accidents" ever. I miss Instead.

You'd think that after all this time...we're rapidly coming up on 20 years (that's right...20 freakin' years, and if the Sner is an indication, I've got about another 20 to go)...I'd have this whole period thing down to a science.

The problem is that I don't. And it's days like today that make me feel like an 11 year old all over again.

I suppose that I can blame it all on that irregular period thing. I was put on birth control at a very early age--I want to say maybe 12? 13?--to help regulate the whole thing and make the cramps manageable. I didn't stay on BC very long because it didn't help. If anything, it made it more erratic. Which was the problem when I was on the pill later in life because I was really wanting to prevent a pregnancy. I never knew when it was going to come, and the cramps were always awful.

I think we've talked before about the whole Depo Provera experience? Three years of a descent into hell? Most women don't have a period on Depo? Yeah. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Try me with a period that lasted two and a half out of every three months. As Dax once said, can we only pay for two weeks since that's all we're getting out of the deal? Good lord.

Since getting off hormonal BC, I'm much more regular and manageable. I've learned to read my body's signals, and I know just about when my period is going to start. I also know what pattern it's going to follow when it gets here. Predictability is a good thing, which is what makes the last two months hard. The never-ending bleeding. Lordamercy.

So far, the period (I need a cute name for it...I don't like any of the ones that most people use. When speaking with lovers, I have referenced my "biology", but I'm not sure that works for me either. *sigh* Suggestions?) has been behaving as it is normally wont to do, which is several days of heavy bleeding and then a day or two of nothing. Absolutely nothing. I *thought* that day was today.

Let me get out in the middle of nowhere on a hike with no feminine products with me to figure out that today wasn't really that day. I've gone from a 24-48 hour window of opportunity to what is apparently passing for about 8 hours. *sigh* I should have known that this month was not going to be a normal month, but I was so desperately hoping. Wrong.

You know, I've never understood the whole wrap a sweater around the waist to cover up "accidents". That covers the rear end, which has never been my problem. My problem has always been the front. Tying a sweater around the waist so that the front is covered makes you look like a dork. So much more so than the other way. I've spent my life ruining panties because I can never quite remember that the panty liner needs to go all the way to the waistband of the panties. And that's only a slight exaggeration.

There's nothing quite like washing out your favorite pair of jeans in a campground shower, hoping that your hypoallergenic soap, purchased because you have a sensitive jewelry box, has the sudsing power to remove the acres wide near stain to make you wish for the comforts of a washing machine and some Shout. Which reminds me...next time I go camping (and I anticipate that it may be relatively son), I'm bringing a Tide pen with me. Perhaps I'll just put when in the basket in the trunk of the car just for giggles. You never know when you're going to need one.

*sigh*

Sometimes it sucks to be a girl. Good tits not withstanding. One of these days, I'll master the art (or science) of having a period. Probably just in time to stop having one.

And while we're talking about periods, lets just get it all out in the open. Period sex? Yea? Nay? I have to say that I have never been really comfortable with it, but a few times with the HB, drunk and high, have done wonders for my attitude toward it. He has never minded my biology, but he's the first, I think. My first reaction is no longer immediate revulsion. Which you would have thought I would have gotten over during those THREE LONG YEARS on Depo. Go figure. I seem to recall a lot of hand and blow jobs and not much consideration for me during those days. Hmmmmmmm. Yeah. Good idea.

The boys in the audience can resume reading now...

Back to our regularly scheduled programming. I am at Oconee State Park, #63, just in case I am never heard from again. Tommy was already a smartass and asked why not #69. Oh so funny. At 38. You all didn't think that I'd just leave that info in the computer, did you? it has been texted to several folks so if I don't show up where I'm supposed to be tomorrow, someone, somewhere knows where I was last seen.

Wow. I just typed in "scene" instead of "seen" and it took me about 30 seconds to figure out why the first one was incorrect. Must be the booze. (I'm on beer #3. Shhhhhhhh...don't tell anyone. You're not supposed to consume or display alcoholic beverages in South Carolina State Parks. I won't tell if you don't tell) There are bugs floating in the foam on top of my Oatmeal Porter, but I'm gonna drink it anyway. I still have teeth to act as a filter.

I somehow managed to go for a hike in flip-flops this afternoon. When I say a hike, I mean a freaking hike on a footpath through the woods, up and down hills. It all started innocently enough. I wanted to explore a bit. See what the campground had to offer. Plus, I wanted to see if I'd made a mistake in turning down the park ranger's offer of "walking camping" since it was just me and a tent. (I didn't make a mistake) I was also hoping to find a garbage receptacle somewhere relatively close since last night I hiked two miles through the pitch darkness (handy-dandy flashlight as my guide) to toss my stuff before the critters could get it.

I wound up walking back the path to the tent sites, and then just kept going. I had been looking at the park map, and I could have sworn that the Old Waterwheel site was just a little further down the way. Yeah right. I did not mean to go for a hike. Really. An hour and a half later, though...

I just kept walking. I debated turning around. The thought in the back of my head was, what if I turn around and it's only just over the next hill? That was mingled with the thought of, it's going to get dark out here in about two hours...what if I have to spend the night parked next to a tree because I don't have a light with me and I have no freakin' idea where I am? It was about that time that the whole period fiasco started. Greaaaaaaaat.

I never did make it to the Old Waterwheel site, but I did, obviously make it back to my camp site. After an hour and a half of hiking. I kept telling myself that I was like the Indians (Native Americans?) who once lived here, cruising along on narrow footpaths, one step after another. Their moccasins could be analogous to my flip-flops. (Well, they *could* be) I was at times heartily tempted to take off my shoes completely and just wander barefoot, but since things are waking up in the forest, I decided that might not be the wisest idea. Like it was wise to head out in non-shoe shoes, but give me a little credit.

I really wanted to, though. Y'all know how much I love to wander bare-feet. I'm serious need of a pedicure now, though. I swear I washed my feet in the shower tonight. The bottoms of them are now brown versus the black they were when I got in. Perhaps if I'd used my rough feet to scrub my stained jeans, the results for both would have been infinitely better. *sigh*

Funny that I had cell reception out in the middle of nowhere woods, but here in the campground, I've got nothing. The phone just chimed that I have three voicemails, but I don't have any way to retrieve them until in the morning when I'm headed towards Atlanta.

I think we must never get over out desire to "cruise". That whole got-my-car-I'm-16-and-I'm-gonna-drive-it-even-if-there's-nowhere-to-drive thing. This morning in the campground, this kid on a golf cart must have driven by 20 times while I was breaking camp. (I remember my terminology from the Donner Party. Heh. Won't Mike be proud?) And tonight, people have been cruising by endlessly. Round and round in a circle they go. Kicking up the dust.

I think I had the best BBQ ever this evening. Little place called the Varsity in Wahalla. So incredibly good. It wasn't Carolina-style, though. It had the sweet sauce on it. When I told them I didn't want fries with it (they would have been cold by the time I wanted to eat them, they gave me extra BBQ. I'll be having some of that for breakfast and some of it for lunch. Good, good stuff. They have apparently just taken over management of the place, so if you're in the neighborhood, won't you stop on by and visit the fine folks at the Varsity in Wahalla, SC?

Also had some awesome biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast this morning. Just the right amount of pepper. All for $3.19 (including a side order of sausage and a cup of coffee). Judy's in Ninety Six, SC. For some reason, if I go out for breakfast, I like biscuits and gravy. I can make pancakes at home. And the thought of an egg makes my stomach turn (see the previous entry on eggs and my childhood breakfast). But a fine homemade biscuit? And some gravy made just right? Do any of you remember the time that Christopher and I were driving home to MO and we stopped at this place in Winnemucca that served me *ham gravy* with my sausage biscuit? That's just not right. (I should mention that there was also lipstick on my water glass, so perhaps it wasn't just the gravy that was amiss)

My little softsided cooler is doing a terrific job. It holds a six pack and some other stuff and a full bag of ice (the little one). At the end of about 24 hours, there's still ice left in the cooler. Not bad I say.

I've finished reading The Nine Rights of Every Writer by Vickie Spandel, and I think that every teacher who teaches writing needs to read it. Not that I agree with everything she says (particularly all of the stuff about assessment as I've just finished Rethinking Rubrics and it makes a ton of sense to me), but it is thought provoking. There are a couple of rights that I'd like to photocopy and anonymously send to the EDH. I think she needs to read them. The trouble is, would she actually think about what's being said?

Having finished the book, I almost want to go back into the classroom. I want to do a better job than I used to, although all immodesty aside, I think I did a pretty good job, and Spandel affirms that for me. The stuff she says we need to be doing in order to help students be better writers, are the things I was doing in my classroom. I was a good teacher, dammit.

*sigh*

Y'all have let me get off track and write a novella here this evening. I'm tired and would like to go to bed, but I need to stay up for another hour or so. Last night about half an hour after I finally got to sleep, I woke up fighting an incredible urge to pee. Right now I would like another sip of water, but I'm going to do that because I would like even more to not crash through the bushes, in search of the bathroom half awake.

That was actually kind of funny. In the camp ground last night, there were two "comfort stations" near my camp site. I had gotten in to the habit of going to one, and in my sleepy haze, I made a wrong turn and wound up on the way to the other one. I remember wading through the leaves thinking, I didn't do this earlier...where did all of these leaves come from? WTF? And then when I opened the door to the bathroom and saw green instead of yellow, for a moment I thought I'd walked into the men's side of the place rather than the women's. I didn't really care at that point because I really had to pee, but I was confused. I was equally confused wading through the leaves on my way back to the tent. It was only this morning when I woke up and took myself off to pee...again...that I realized what had happened.

Did you know that the siege of Star Fort at Ninety Six, SC was the only place that a mine tunnel was used during the Revolutionary War? Actually they didn't get to use it because the siege ended, unsuccessfully, before it could be used to great effect. It was the only time it was attempted, though. I did not know that before I visited the Ninety Six National Historic Site.

I'm tired. Think it's been near long enough. Going to bed.

April 12, 2006

I am tired this evening, but not so tired as I was yesterday. I will admit that once I got the tent set up, I was mightily tempted to lay down and take a nap, but I resisted the urge. Instead I went to the store and picked up stuff to make a killer salad. I think I am protein deprived. That or bleeding heavily for the last three days has caused a severe deficiency. While I ate the salad leaves, I was much more interested in the turkey and the ham. In fact, so much so that for desert, I could be eating that right this minute instead of my packet of mini-chips ahoy. (I am not...I'm eating the mini-chips ahoy)

Tonight I am ensconced at Lake Greenwood State Recreation Area, campsite #52. In case I'm never heard from again. Site #120 would have been so much better...right on the water, RIGHT ThERE, feet away...but it has been "improved". There's no where to put a tent as it has been paved for all those folks out there with the RVs and travel trailers. Of the about 20 sites available when I pulled in, after an inspection, #52 turned out to be the only one I could actually put a tent on. That sucks.

It was much easier to put the tent up today. I think I had it done in about ten minutes. It would have been faster, except that I had a really hard time staking it out. Apparently, when there's rock about two inches below the surface, that makes things difficult. Go figure. I think the air mattress is more full of air tonight than it was last night.

Hopefully I'll sleep better. I woke up at 1:00 and needed to pee. There after, sleep was a crapshoot. Tossed and turned and tossed. I seriously considered getting up and taking myself off to god knows where. Since I couldn't figure out where I would be going in the middle of the night, I just shivered.

Speaking of which, who goes off on vacation and forgets to bring a jacket or a sweater? Apparently I do. *sigh* I really did mean to bring one. I remember thinking to myself "Pack the USM sweater...it's clean". Did I pack it? (*In case you can't figure out the answer to that one based on the context clues, no...I didn't bring it) Thought about stopping and buying one, but that would have meant going somewhere near a Wal-Mart, which I have successfully avoided since leaving Hilton Head.

Last night while sitting at my campsite, these two little boys rode by on their bikes. Must have been about six or seven. I was just out of the shower, hair in a pony, no make-up. One of them said to the other, with the earnestness born of innocence, "Hey! She's really pretty. She's pretty." The other one agreed with him, and I smiled. There is something sweet and precious about children. Not that I want any. Something sweet and precious just the same, though.

Today was spent on the road and in the swamp. After an interminable drive, trying to find it (it's been awhile since I had the "I hate poor signage" rant, hasn't it?), I spent about three hours in Congaree National Park. Home of the tallest tree canopy in the world. Primeval swamp. Incredibly lovely and still. I did the boardwalk loop (about a 3 mile hike altogether), and then spent another hour or so in a canoe on the river/in the swamp.

Saw three wild pigs. Scared the holy living hell out of me. I was tromping along the boardwalk, and all of the sudden, I heard them squealing and crashing through the brush. At that point in time, I was just a little frightened as I was on the "low" boardwalk, meaning there was nothing...really...between them and me. Apparently I am only attractive to little boys because the pigs turned tail and ran the other way at the sight of me. And that's just fine with me.

Some of the tress in park are amazingly big. According to the information put out by the park, perhaps even as old as some of the trees in the coastal redwoods. I saw a figure of 800-1000 years. Pretty amazing when you think about it. What is our lifetime in comparison?

Tomorrow night, I'll be at Oconee State Park. I called them to see if I could make a reservation because the guy at this SP said that I might have difficulty finding a spot tomorrow (start of a holiday weekend), but they told me that there shouldn't be a problem as long as I'm there by say 2:30. I can do that.

Between here and there, I'll stop in Abbeville, first capital of the Confederacy. A woman in the swamp (not to be confused with a swamp woman) told me more than I wanted to know about her family history and exhorted me to "Get off that Interstate! You don't know what you're missing by not taking the backroads." I didn't tell her that I hadn't seen an interstate since I left Savannah...and then I only took it to get to Hilton Head. I just smiled and nodded. She asked me if I had a good atlas because if I did, there was no telling what I could find out there. Smiled and nodded.

Apparently the woman is distantly related to Sherman and feels he is greatly misunderstood in the South. Vilified for no reason. Afterall, he allowed the South the ability to rebuild. He could have killed the South, but instead he choose to burn her. In doing so, he gave her freedom to start again. According to her, though, you won't hear too many Southerners saying thank you. Ungrateful wretches every one. (And she spent most of her life in Louisiana...she oughta know)

Speaking of Louisiana, before I loss my battery, did y'all see that St. Bernard's Parish is thinking about hiring Michael Brown as a consultant to help them with their rebuilding? WTF is *that* about? Are you kidding? Did they not live Hurricanes Katrina and Rita? Are they willing to sign up for another debacle? Criminy.

Next time I go camping, I need to remember to bring the hydrocortisone cream. I checked my first aid kit and don't have any. I got bit by something in the swamp yesterday...little welling of blood when it happened, but nothing major. This afternoon it started swelling and itching like holy hell. I keep spraying it with Off...as that is soothing. (The coolness and all)

I also need to remember to get one of those little hibachi grill things. No fire pit at this campground. I could have brought my own, though. If I'd been truly prepared. I'm a slacker weasel.

April 11, 2006

I think that if I ever have children, we will be a family that camps. A weekend here or there. Perhaps a whole week in the summer. I have been at Santee State Park since about 2:30 this afternoon, and it is absolutely beautiful. I lucked into an incredibly huge campsite, on the corner, overlooking the lake (all for $18.91/night). There's someone to the left of me, people across from me, but no one to my right. Lots of old folks and a whole boatload of families.

There are perhaps only two other people in this 50 space campground who are only camping in a tent. Speaking of which, I had a bit of difficulty getting the tent set up. Now that I know how to stake it, everything is coolio. (the tent is missing a steak) Billie's tent is only a two-person tent, so the air mattress is a tight fit. I seriously considered going without, but it does in fact fit. That's good because I wasn't really looking forward to sleeping on the hard ground, although after Debi's futon, that might have been good for me.

Today I have hiked in heels, hiked in tennis shoes, ridden my bike, and canoed through a swamp by myself. I hope I have some lovely pictures, but I won't know until later. I don't really want to look at them just yet. There were real live alligators in the swamp. Big ones. OK, perhaps just medium ones, after seeing the one that was stuffed and hung on the wall (captured and killed in 1996 on a nearby plantation). There were also baby ones, and more turtles than you could shake a stick at. I paddled through Cypress Gardens, just outside of Goose Creek. Cypress Gardens is famous because it was used to film the church ruins in the middle of the swamp scene in the Patriot. (I tried to get some pictures, but again, I don't know how they turned out)

I am tired.

It is only 8:15, and I am ready to go to bed. I have already taken a shower (and doused myself in bug spray). There were a couple of things I wanted to write about before I nodded off...or before I walked my happy self over to the bathroom so I can brush my teeth and potty.

It is a bit on the refreshing side to see children playing...riding bikes, playing tag, climbing on jungle gyms. While just about everyone here is in a motorhome, there's no cable or internet. There's power, but when there's so much else to do, why bother? The kidlets across the way are playing with sparklers and making ghost noises while sitting around their campfire. While they may not ever appreciate this, I can imagine that one day they'll have lovely memories to tell their children...or to recreate with their children.

If the campground I'm in tomorrow night is anything like the one I'm in tonight, I'm grilling a fat steak. There are fire pits with grates over them, so I could have easily had a little BBQ going. Instead I bought some pulled pork at the grocery store and had it on crackers. I also consumed two contraban beers. So far no one has shown up to arrest me. Considering that the kidlets across the way are playing with sparklers, I'm not all that worried. You know?

I sat down at the lake this afternoon, with my feet in the water and wrote in a journal about how this place is perhaps the place I'm supposed to be. Not specifically Lake Marion in Santee State Park (Cypress View Campground space #37 in case I don't ever show up again), but here, in the trees, near the water. I was thinking that yesterday as I was driving through Francis Marion National Forest.

Maybe for some of us, those early experiences really are imprints and guides for the rest of our lives. Maybe where we start determines where we end up. Perhaps we're searching for those places the rest of our lives, hoping to come close to it again. For some of us. Maybe.

Yesterday as I was thinking, I was thinking specifically about forests, but today as I was reflecting, I realized that it's really much, much more than that.

I have always been a nomad, I think. Happiest out on the road, exploring. On my own. (Although let me tell you, a little help paddling through the swamp today would not have been amiss) When I was little it was on my bike. I can remember riding out as far as I was allowed. And begging to go further. Eventually making my way to Rose Hill Cemetery, and then making the loop further out. I could be gone for hours and be really happy.

On a side note, the little kids from across the way are now heading down to the lake with their daddy, fishing poles in hand. The smell of their propane lantern, burning my nostrils. I remember that smell. My groovy battery powered lamp may be easier to operate and take care of, but it lacks a certain...evocative quality.

There's more to say, but I'm beat and the light is attracting the bugs. By the time I get to the bathroom, and back, it will be my bed time. I need to get up early so I can make my way to get another swamp. There's so much to see and do traveling out of the way.

April 10, 2006

There is something slightly wrong about the fact that I'm in an Econo Lodge motel room...and with my AAA discount, the room is $54+tax. What the hell? How is that "economy"?

I spent the day wandering around...captivated by swamps, transfixed by azeallas, entralled by dogwoods. I have once again spent quite a bit of time in graveyards and near churches.

It's probably for the best that I'm not camping this evening. My prayers have been answered, and the first day or so is always awful.

April 8, 2006

Let's see...what all did we do today? Debi and I wandered into downtown Savannah and stumbled upon the Savannah College of Art and Design's 8th Annual International Festival. Had some good food and there was a decent reggae band playing when we arrived. In my not so humble opinion, the dancers from Gotta Dance Studio in Aurora, MO do a much better job than the dancers in the SCAD Department of Dance Theater. They were truly pretty awful, and from what I could tell, their choreographer really, really liked a particular hand movement. I'll admit that it was sharp...the first time I saw it. By the fourth and fifth dance though...the 20th time in each dance...it had lost most, if not all, of its appeal.

We had dinner tonight at Uncle Bubba's Oyster House. That's Paula Deen's place on the Island. Or her brother's. Or something like that. They sell t-shirts that say "Momma loves it when Daddy eats Oysters." We had the chargrilled oysters. They're what I would call roasted? Good. I had the shrimp and grits for dinner, although I think I would have rather had the BBQ shrimp. The shrimp and grits was OK, but not great. The pieces of "bacon" were probably the best thing about the dish. Very smokey and flavorful. Which was a good thing because they somehow managed to completely fuck up the pecan pie. It was AWFUL. Debi went with the key lime pie, and it was wonderful. Dave had the strawberry shortcake, and he said it was wonderful. My pecan pie was hideous. The filling wasn't what you would think of when you think of pecan pie, and the top of it was thick and heavy. Debi seemed to think that perhaps they had made the mistake of adding bourbon or whiskey to the recipe and that's what caused the breakdown. I dunno. It was a sad, sad situation, though.

The rain here this afternoon was awful. AWFUL. Thunder and lightning and the whole nine yards...including torrential downpour. Now aren't I glad I'm not camping?

April 7, 2006

I am arrived in Savannah. What an incredibly long day. Got a ticket outside of Birmingham. The guy said he'd been following me, and while I was speeding, that was OK because I was moving with the flow of traffic. What wasn't OK was my lane changing. I now know why people in the South pick a lane and stick with it. Apparently changing lanes makes you a target for the po-po. He said that if I hadn't been moving in and out of the passing lane, which correct me if I'm wrong, is what you're supposed to do...that's why it's called a passing lane...he would have never really even noticed me. Motherfuckers.

He wrote me a ticket for unsafe lane changes. Huh? I always use my blinker. I'm not erratic. I suppose, though, it's better than a ticket for 80-85 in a 70 (calm down Sner...he said that was OK since that's what every one else was doing). He said probably around $100...while the speeding ticket would have been around $300. Not quite sure what the impact on my insurance will be. (Recall my last ticket was due to drop off in August)

We actually had quite the long chat after he wrote the ticket. He noticed my USM alumni frame around my plate so we talked about that (apparently one of his children went to USM). I told him I was from NV; he said he had a sister who lived in CA and he wondered why black people didn't really stop in NV or ID or OR on their western migration. He said that he thought the racial tensions wouldn't have been as bad. I told him that NV had been referred to as the MS of the West.

I also made up a wonderful story. Y'all know that if I get pulled over, Wayne is my husband (sorry Des...I'm willing to use him to my benefit). He was saying something about how he could tell that I was intelligent based on how I responded to him when he asked me for my license and registration, making sure he could see my hands, etc. I told him that was because my husband was an officer back home in Carson. And that I was on my way to Atlanta to pick him for a vacation...hadn't seen him since Christmas. Wayne and I have been married for 10 years in July, and we agreed to make some sacrifices so I could get this degree finished. Told the lovely officer I would probably wait until tomorrow to tell Wayne about the ticket as I didn't want to ruin anything. He said that would probably be a good idea. As I drove along afterward, I spent way too much creating the rest of the backstory to that little interlude. I have no clue whether the officer actually bought it all or not, but eh. I actually let him do most of the talking, as is my usual M.O. So perhaps he did buy it. I dunno.

All in all, a WONDERFUL chat with the highway patrolman. Half an hour later, I was free to go. He told me to wait a couple of weeks before calling about my ticket and how to handle it...he wouldn't have gotten down to the courthouse to turn it in before then. I found that to be a little odd. Who knows, though. It is Alabama.

I was late getting into Debi's. I thought I'd be here around 6:00 but with the ticket detour and all of the road construction in Alabama and Georgia, I didn't make it until closer to 8:30. Ughhh. That's a long day. I started this morning at 5:30 (when I rolled out of bed to get going). Was on the road by 9:00 this morning and was making really good time until the ticket. Stopped at Treasure Hunt in Meridian and picked up some work-out clothes and a new bike helmet (really needed a new one...my old one was too old and icky). All selling at 40% off.

Word of advice: the Starbucks Blackberry Green Tea Frappacinno is a much better idea than reality. In reality it was kinda gross. Pretty. But gross.

I am desperately trying to have a period. I think for once in my life I really, really want it show up...even though now is a really inconvenient time. I've been spotting since Mardi Gras and that's a long time. I just want it over with so I know that something's not wrong with me. You know? It's funny how attached you get to the stupid thing. All the while it's doing exactly what it's supposed to, and you hate it. But when things get out of whack, all you want is for it to get back to normal. I am hopeful that within the next couple of days *something* will happen. I've had my normal discharge and the requisite cramping (perhaps a little worse this month than in previous months), but no change. I know y'all really, really wanted to know that...particularly the readers of the male persuasion. But I'm worried about it. I'm sure you can understand that.

April 4, 2006

Took Esteban in for brakes and a new battery today. $400 later. *sigh* Have to pay the car insurane next. *sigh*

My beloved Royals lost their home opener. To freakin' Detroit. Can you believe that.

So very tired. I want to write more, but I don't think I'm going to make it tonight.

April 2, 2006

So, I hope that y'all caught that yesterday was April Fool's Day. Did y'all catch that yesterday was April Fool's Day? Please tell me that y'all caught that yesterday was April Fool's Day.

Pretty good one, huh? *grin*

The response was quite interesting. I got a ton of emails and a ton of calls. It's lovely to know how supportive my friends are.

Hope y'all are having a good start to the month.

April 1, 2006

Ummmmmm...so yeah. Not quite sure what I'm going to do, but all of the news at the doctor's office wasn't good on Thursday. It's kinda funny that this happens NOW of all times. *sigh*

The HB is coming over this evening so we can discuss options and what to do now. All very mature and sophisticated, I'm sure. He did say last weekend that he didn't believe in the prevailing southern practice of getting married just because you're pregnant, which is a relief to me. Y'all know how I feel about that.

*sigh*

(please check the date. please check the date. please check the date)

Last Updated January 26, 2008

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April 27, 2006

I'm not sure how to organize all of these thoughts. My head hurts, so it's probably just a big jumble. Mayhap getting closer to a freewrite.

Sometimes do you wonder if the past really happened? If you look back over your life and the distance between now and then seems so great that it can't be possible the past really was your life, do you ever think it's someone else's life?

The last couple of days I've been thinking about a former lover. Haven't talked to him in awhile. I made a conscious decision to separate myself from him so as not to be continually hurt by him, and while we still exchange pleasantries, it's almost hard to believe that at one point in time we were that close.

It's different from the end of my relationship with Dax. There's not that sense of surrealness/unrealness there. I have to wonder if he feels the same. I wonder if it's worth it to ask him the question. Maybe I will. But then again...what's the point? *sigh*

Anyway see the story about the Republican proposal to give us all a $100 gas rebate? Are you freakin' kidding me? What good is that going to do? Is it going to be like quarterly? When prices go above $3.00/gallon nationally, will the great gas rebate in the sky be triggered? Criminey. What a bunch of bullshit.

I forgot that I'm supposed to try to donate platelets tomorrow.

Went for a motorcycle ride this afternoon. I really, really want one. I needed a light jacket when we were riding...could have been about 5 degrees warmer and then it would have been perfect. As it was, it was pretty nice, though. Will told me that the bike is getting about 35 mpg. Then again, he does have that beast of a bike. That might help with the gas prices. *sigh*

April 24, 2006

Am exhausted. It was a long weekend, and today was an extremely stressful day. I hate it when people don't do what they're supposed to. Pisses me off.

Wanted to let you know that if there are pics you want to keep...ones from this site, you need to go through and do some right-clicking and saving. I have something like 200 spring break photos to upload, and I've decided that I don't want to pay for more webspace, so the older photos are coming down. quite a few of them. Perhaps all but stuff from the lat year or so. So. Best git 'em while the gittin's good. Si?

It's 8:30, and I think I'm going to be going to bed here relatively soon. I need to take the trash out and water some plants that are outside.

There's some stuff to be said, but right now I can't think of it. Sorry.

April 21, 2006

Still unwell. Now battling headache. Have been all day long.

We are at Twin Lakes Conference and Retreat Center. Extremely lovely place. I think it's going to be a good retreat. I really, really do. But my head hurts.

Talked to Cassie. I think we're gonna plan a party up here after the summer institute. Good to see her.

Need to go to bed. Really.

April 20, 2006

OK...I'm unwell. That last two nights I've been feeling out of sorts. Not quite a seizure, but almost. Some weird tingly/numbness in my lower back that radiates to a dull pins and needles feeling down my legs. Kind of comes and goes in waves...more intense in some moments than others. Kind of difficult to concentrate.

Almost feels like it's difficult to breathe. You know how when you've had a a bad cold or fever and every breath is an effort? It's not that I'm having difficulty breathing. It's just that I'm tired and I almost feel like it's too much bother.

There's so much to get done. *sigh* The retreat starts tomorrow. Very Nervous about that.

And tonight, I found out that I apparently blew off my reviews for Doors to Diplomacy. I thought they were due Sunday by midnight. They were due last Friday. *sigh* I suck.

Need to go to bed. Gonna go to bed.

But before I go, whiney people who are very ego-centric bug the shit out of me. If I said I'd let you know, I'll fucking let you know. Leave me the hell alone.

April 17, 2006

It's way hot here. It was supposed to have gone to 94 today. I can't believe that's already that hot right now. Lordamercy.

Am back from vacation. Totally not happy to be here. I was sad the entire drive back from Atlanta.

The best part of being back is that the kids are happy to see me. They're both hanging close. It doesn't appear that Peach has barbered herself too badly.

April 13, 2006

With apologies in advance to the boys in the audience...

I can't remember getting my first period. I have some vague recollection that I was in fifth grade? That would make me about 11, right? I seem to recall being at Grandma Atwell's, in that first bedroom on the right at the top of the second floor stairs. I think the Sner and I had a talk about how walking would help with the cramps and how in a couple of months, we could try using tampons.

Somewhere along the line, I remember having a conversation with Aunt Carol about tampons, and her telling me that OB were really preferable as they were so small that you could have one in your hand and no one would know *that's* what you were going to the bathroom to do. Nice in theory, but in reality? What kid, who is just getting used to the whole bleeding thing wants to have to put her finger inside of herself to insert an applicator-less thing? No one might know it was in your hand on the way to the bathroom, but people in the bathroom would certainly know what you'd been doing when you went to wash your hand afterward. (I tried OB once...haven't been back to it since)

I'm not quite sure what the logic was in waiting to try tampons, though. I can't imagine having a period and having to rely on using a pad. Gross, gross, gross. First there's the smell. And then there's the blood. Ewww. Ick. Gross. I don't want to *see* that. (which probably speaks to some self-loathing or some such. I'm fine with that. Really)

I really hate that I can no longer use Instead. It truly was the best of all possible worlds. If you had to have a period, at least you didn't have to worry about it. I was comfortable with Instead. No "accidents" ever. I miss Instead.

You'd think that after all this time...we're rapidly coming up on 20 years (that's right...20 freakin' years, and if the Sner is an indication, I've got about another 20 to go)...I'd have this whole period thing down to a science.

The problem is that I don't. And it's days like today that make me feel like an 11 year old all over again.

I suppose that I can blame it all on that irregular period thing. I was put on birth control at a very early age--I want to say maybe 12? 13?--to help regulate the whole thing and make the cramps manageable. I didn't stay on BC very long because it didn't help. If anything, it made it more erratic. Which was the problem when I was on the pill later in life because I was really wanting to prevent a pregnancy. I never knew when it was going to come, and the cramps were always awful.

I think we've talked before about the whole Depo Provera experience? Three years of a descent into hell? Most women don't have a period on Depo? Yeah. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Try me with a period that lasted two and a half out of every three months. As Dax once said, can we only pay for two weeks since that's all we're getting out of the deal? Good lord.

Since getting off hormonal BC, I'm much more regular and manageable. I've learned to read my body's signals, and I know just about when my period is going to start. I also know what pattern it's going to follow when it gets here. Predictability is a good thing, which is what makes the last two months hard. The never-ending bleeding. Lordamercy.

So far, the period (I need a cute name for it...I don't like any of the ones that most people use. When speaking with lovers, I have referenced my "biology", but I'm not sure that works for me either. *sigh* Suggestions?) has been behaving as it is normally wont to do, which is several days of heavy bleeding and then a day or two of nothing. Absolutely nothing. I *thought* that day was today.

Let me get out in the middle of nowhere on a hike with no feminine products with me to figure out that today wasn't really that day. I've gone from a 24-48 hour window of opportunity to what is apparently passing for about 8 hours. *sigh* I should have known that this month was not going to be a normal month, but I was so desperately hoping. Wrong.

You know, I've never understood the whole wrap a sweater around the waist to cover up "accidents". That covers the rear end, which has never been my problem. My problem has always been the front. Tying a sweater around the waist so that the front is covered makes you look like a dork. So much more so than the other way. I've spent my life ruining panties because I can never quite remember that the panty liner needs to go all the way to the waistband of the panties. And that's only a slight exaggeration.

There's nothing quite like washing out your favorite pair of jeans in a campground shower, hoping that your hypoallergenic soap, purchased because you have a sensitive jewelry box, has the sudsing power to remove the acres wide near stain to make you wish for the comforts of a washing machine and some Shout. Which reminds me...next time I go camping (and I anticipate that it may be relatively son), I'm bringing a Tide pen with me. Perhaps I'll just put when in the basket in the trunk of the car just for giggles. You never know when you're going to need one.

*sigh*

Sometimes it sucks to be a girl. Good tits not withstanding. One of these days, I'll master the art (or science) of having a period. Probably just in time to stop having one.

And while we're talking about periods, lets just get it all out in the open. Period sex? Yea? Nay? I have to say that I have never been really comfortable with it, but a few times with the HB, drunk and high, have done wonders for my attitude toward it. He has never minded my biology, but he's the first, I think. My first reaction is no longer immediate revulsion. Which you would have thought I would have gotten over during those THREE LONG YEARS on Depo. Go figure. I seem to recall a lot of hand and blow jobs and not much consideration for me during those days. Hmmmmmmm. Yeah. Good idea.

The boys in the audience can resume reading now...

Back to our regularly scheduled programming. I am at Oconee State Park, #63, just in case I am never heard from again. Tommy was already a smartass and asked why not #69. Oh so funny. At 38. You all didn't think that I'd just leave that info in the computer, did you? it has been texted to several folks so if I don't show up where I'm supposed to be tomorrow, someone, somewhere knows where I was last seen.

Wow. I just typed in "scene" instead of "seen" and it took me about 30 seconds to figure out why the first one was incorrect. Must be the booze. (I'm on beer #3. Shhhhhhhh...don't tell anyone. You're not supposed to consume or display alcoholic beverages in South Carolina State Parks. I won't tell if you don't tell) There are bugs floating in the foam on top of my Oatmeal Porter, but I'm gonna drink it anyway. I still have teeth to act as a filter.

I somehow managed to go for a hike in flip-flops this afternoon. When I say a hike, I mean a freaking hike on a footpath through the woods, up and down hills. It all started innocently enough. I wanted to explore a bit. See what the campground had to offer. Plus, I wanted to see if I'd made a mistake in turning down the park ranger's offer of "walking camping" since it was just me and a tent. (I didn't make a mistake) I was also hoping to find a garbage receptacle somewhere relatively close since last night I hiked two miles through the pitch darkness (handy-dandy flashlight as my guide) to toss my stuff before the critters could get it.

I wound up walking back the path to the tent sites, and then just kept going. I had been looking at the park map, and I could have sworn that the Old Waterwheel site was just a little further down the way. Yeah right. I did not mean to go for a hike. Really. An hour and a half later, though...

I just kept walking. I debated turning around. The thought in the back of my head was, what if I turn around and it's only just over the next hill? That was mingled with the thought of, it's going to get dark out here in about two hours...what if I have to spend the night parked next to a tree because I don't have a light with me and I have no freakin' idea where I am? It was about that time that the whole period fiasco started. Greaaaaaaaat.

I never did make it to the Old Waterwheel site, but I did, obviously make it back to my camp site. After an hour and a half of hiking. I kept telling myself that I was like the Indians (Native Americans?) who once lived here, cruising along on narrow footpaths, one step after another. Their moccasins could be analogous to my flip-flops. (Well, they *could* be) I was at times heartily tempted to take off my shoes completely and just wander barefoot, but since things are waking up in the forest, I decided that might not be the wisest idea. Like it was wise to head out in non-shoe shoes, but give me a little credit.

I really wanted to, though. Y'all know how much I love to wander bare-feet. I'm serious need of a pedicure now, though. I swear I washed my feet in the shower tonight. The bottoms of them are now brown versus the black they were when I got in. Perhaps if I'd used my rough feet to scrub my stained jeans, the results for both would have been infinitely better. *sigh*

Funny that I had cell reception out in the middle of nowhere woods, but here in the campground, I've got nothing. The phone just chimed that I have three voicemails, but I don't have any way to retrieve them until in the morning when I'm headed towards Atlanta.

I think we must never get over out desire to "cruise". That whole got-my-car-I'm-16-and-I'm-gonna-drive-it-even-if-there's-nowhere-to-drive thing. This morning in the campground, this kid on a golf cart must have driven by 20 times while I was breaking camp. (I remember my terminology from the Donner Party. Heh. Won't Mike be proud?) And tonight, people have been cruising by endlessly. Round and round in a circle they go. Kicking up the dust.

I think I had the best BBQ ever this evening. Little place called the Varsity in Wahalla. So incredibly good. It wasn't Carolina-style, though. It had the sweet sauce on it. When I told them I didn't want fries with it (they would have been cold by the time I wanted to eat them, they gave me extra BBQ. I'll be having some of that for breakfast and some of it for lunch. Good, good stuff. They have apparently just taken over management of the place, so if you're in the neighborhood, won't you stop on by and visit the fine folks at the Varsity in Wahalla, SC?

Also had some awesome biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast this morning. Just the right amount of pepper. All for $3.19 (including a side order of sausage and a cup of coffee). Judy's in Ninety Six, SC. For some reason, if I go out for breakfast, I like biscuits and gravy. I can make pancakes at home. And the thought of an egg makes my stomach turn (see the previous entry on eggs and my childhood breakfast). But a fine homemade biscuit? And some gravy made just right? Do any of you remember the time that Christopher and I were driving home to MO and we stopped at this place in Winnemucca that served me *ham gravy* with my sausage biscuit? That's just not right. (I should mention that there was also lipstick on my water glass, so perhaps it wasn't just the gravy that was amiss)

My little softsided cooler is doing a terrific job. It holds a six pack and some other stuff and a full bag of ice (the little one). At the end of about 24 hours, there's still ice left in the cooler. Not bad I say.

I've finished reading The Nine Rights of Every Writer by Vickie Spandel, and I think that every teacher who teaches writing needs to read it. Not that I agree with everything she says (particularly all of the stuff about assessment as I've just finished Rethinking Rubrics and it makes a ton of sense to me), but it is thought provoking. There are a couple of rights that I'd like to photocopy and anonymously send to the EDH. I think she needs to read them. The trouble is, would she actually think about what's being said?

Having finished the book, I almost want to go back into the classroom. I want to do a better job than I used to, although all immodesty aside, I think I did a pretty good job, and Spandel affirms that for me. The stuff she says we need to be doing in order to help students be better writers, are the things I was doing in my classroom. I was a good teacher, dammit.

*sigh*

Y'all have let me get off track and write a novella here this evening. I'm tired and would like to go to bed, but I need to stay up for another hour or so. Last night about half an hour after I finally got to sleep, I woke up fighting an incredible urge to pee. Right now I would like another sip of water, but I'm going to do that because I would like even more to not crash through the bushes, in search of the bathroom half awake.

That was actually kind of funny. In the camp ground last night, there were two "comfort stations" near my camp site. I had gotten in to the habit of going to one, and in my sleepy haze, I made a wrong turn and wound up on the way to the other one. I remember wading through the leaves thinking, I didn't do this earlier...where did all of these leaves come from? WTF? And then when I opened the door to the bathroom and saw green instead of yellow, for a moment I thought I'd walked into the men's side of the place rather than the women's. I didn't really care at that point because I really had to pee, but I was confused. I was equally confused wading through the leaves on my way back to the tent. It was only this morning when I woke up and took myself off to pee...again...that I realized what had happened.

Did you know that the siege of Star Fort at Ninety Six, SC was the only place that a mine tunnel was used during the Revolutionary War? Actually they didn't get to use it because the siege ended, unsuccessfully, before it could be used to great effect. It was the only time it was attempted, though. I did not know that before I visited the Ninety Six National Historic Site.

I'm tired. Think it's been near long enough. Going to bed.

April 12, 2006

I am tired this evening, but not so tired as I was yesterday. I will admit that once I got the tent set up, I was mightily tempted to lay down and take a nap, but I resisted the urge. Instead I went to the store and picked up stuff to make a killer salad. I think I am protein deprived. That or bleeding heavily for the last three days has caused a severe deficiency. While I ate the salad leaves, I was much more interested in the turkey and the ham. In fact, so much so that for desert, I could be eating that right this minute instead of my packet of mini-chips ahoy. (I am not...I'm eating the mini-chips ahoy)

Tonight I am ensconced at Lake Greenwood State Recreation Area, campsite #52. In case I'm never heard from again. Site #120 would have been so much better...right on the water, RIGHT ThERE, feet away...but it has been "improved". There's no where to put a tent as it has been paved for all those folks out there with the RVs and travel trailers. Of the about 20 sites available when I pulled in, after an inspection, #52 turned out to be the only one I could actually put a tent on. That sucks.

It was much easier to put the tent up today. I think I had it done in about ten minutes. It would have been faster, except that I had a really hard time staking it out. Apparently, when there's rock about two inches below the surface, that makes things difficult. Go figure. I think the air mattress is more full of air tonight than it was last night.

Hopefully I'll sleep better. I woke up at 1:00 and needed to pee. There after, sleep was a crapshoot. Tossed and turned and tossed. I seriously considered getting up and taking myself off to god knows where. Since I couldn't figure out where I would be going in the middle of the night, I just shivered.

Speaking of which, who goes off on vacation and forgets to bring a jacket or a sweater? Apparently I do. *sigh* I really did mean to bring one. I remember thinking to myself "Pack the USM sweater...it's clean". Did I pack it? (*In case you can't figure out the answer to that one based on the context clues, no...I didn't bring it) Thought about stopping and buying one, but that would have meant going somewhere near a Wal-Mart, which I have successfully avoided since leaving Hilton Head.

Last night while sitting at my campsite, these two little boys rode by on their bikes. Must have been about six or seven. I was just out of the shower, hair in a pony, no make-up. One of them said to the other, with the earnestness born of innocence, "Hey! She's really pretty. She's pretty." The other one agreed with him, and I smiled. There is something sweet and precious about children. Not that I want any. Something sweet and precious just the same, though.

Today was spent on the road and in the swamp. After an interminable drive, trying to find it (it's been awhile since I had the "I hate poor signage" rant, hasn't it?), I spent about three hours in Congaree National Park. Home of the tallest tree canopy in the world. Primeval swamp. Incredibly lovely and still. I did the boardwalk loop (about a 3 mile hike altogether), and then spent another hour or so in a canoe on the river/in the swamp.

Saw three wild pigs. Scared the holy living hell out of me. I was tromping along the boardwalk, and all of the sudden, I heard them squealing and crashing through the brush. At that point in time, I was just a little frightened as I was on the "low" boardwalk, meaning there was nothing...really...between them and me. Apparently I am only attractive to little boys because the pigs turned tail and ran the other way at the sight of me. And that's just fine with me.

Some of the tress in park are amazingly big. According to the information put out by the park, perhaps even as old as some of the trees in the coastal redwoods. I saw a figure of 800-1000 years. Pretty amazing when you think about it. What is our lifetime in comparison?

Tomorrow night, I'll be at Oconee State Park. I called them to see if I could make a reservation because the guy at this SP said that I might have difficulty finding a spot tomorrow (start of a holiday weekend), but they told me that there shouldn't be a problem as long as I'm there by say 2:30. I can do that.

Between here and there, I'll stop in Abbeville, first capital of the Confederacy. A woman in the swamp (not to be confused with a swamp woman) told me more than I wanted to know about her family history and exhorted me to "Get off that Interstate! You don't know what you're missing by not taking the backroads." I didn't tell her that I hadn't seen an interstate since I left Savannah...and then I only took it to get to Hilton Head. I just smiled and nodded. She asked me if I had a good atlas because if I did, there was no telling what I could find out there. Smiled and nodded.

Apparently the woman is distantly related to Sherman and feels he is greatly misunderstood in the South. Vilified for no reason. Afterall, he allowed the South the ability to rebuild. He could have killed the South, but instead he choose to burn her. In doing so, he gave her freedom to start again. According to her, though, you won't hear too many Southerners saying thank you. Ungrateful wretches every one. (And she spent most of her life in Louisiana...she oughta know)

Speaking of Louisiana, before I loss my battery, did y'all see that St. Bernard's Parish is thinking about hiring Michael Brown as a consultant to help them with their rebuilding? WTF is *that* about? Are you kidding? Did they not live Hurricanes Katrina and Rita? Are they willing to sign up for another debacle? Criminy.

Next time I go camping, I need to remember to bring the hydrocortisone cream. I checked my first aid kit and don't have any. I got bit by something in the swamp yesterday...little welling of blood when it happened, but nothing major. This afternoon it started swelling and itching like holy hell. I keep spraying it with Off...as that is soothing. (The coolness and all)

I also need to remember to get one of those little hibachi grill things. No fire pit at this campground. I could have brought my own, though. If I'd been truly prepared. I'm a slacker weasel.

April 11, 2006

I think that if I ever have children, we will be a family that camps. A weekend here or there. Perhaps a whole week in the summer. I have been at Santee State Park since about 2:30 this afternoon, and it is absolutely beautiful. I lucked into an incredibly huge campsite, on the corner, overlooking the lake (all for $18.91/night). There's someone to the left of me, people across from me, but no one to my right. Lots of old folks and a whole boatload of families.

There are perhaps only two other people in this 50 space campground who are only camping in a tent. Speaking of which, I had a bit of difficulty getting the tent set up. Now that I know how to stake it, everything is coolio. (the tent is missing a steak) Billie's tent is only a two-person tent, so the air mattress is a tight fit. I seriously considered going without, but it does in fact fit. That's good because I wasn't really looking forward to sleeping on the hard ground, although after Debi's futon, that might have been good for me.

Today I have hiked in heels, hiked in tennis shoes, ridden my bike, and canoed through a swamp by myself. I hope I have some lovely pictures, but I won't know until later. I don't really want to look at them just yet. There were real live alligators in the swamp. Big ones. OK, perhaps just medium ones, after seeing the one that was stuffed and hung on the wall (captured and killed in 1996 on a nearby plantation). There were also baby ones, and more turtles than you could shake a stick at. I paddled through Cypress Gardens, just outside of Goose Creek. Cypress Gardens is famous because it was used to film the church ruins in the middle of the swamp scene in the Patriot. (I tried to get some pictures, but again, I don't know how they turned out)

I am tired.

It is only 8:15, and I am ready to go to bed. I have already taken a shower (and doused myself in bug spray). There were a couple of things I wanted to write about before I nodded off...or before I walked my happy self over to the bathroom so I can brush my teeth and potty.

It is a bit on the refreshing side to see children playing...riding bikes, playing tag, climbing on jungle gyms. While just about everyone here is in a motorhome, there's no cable or internet. There's power, but when there's so much else to do, why bother? The kidlets across the way are playing with sparklers and making ghost noises while sitting around their campfire. While they may not ever appreciate this, I can imagine that one day they'll have lovely memories to tell their children...or to recreate with their children.

If the campground I'm in tomorrow night is anything like the one I'm in tonight, I'm grilling a fat steak. There are fire pits with grates over them, so I could have easily had a little BBQ going. Instead I bought some pulled pork at the grocery store and had it on crackers. I also consumed two contraban beers. So far no one has shown up to arrest me. Considering that the kidlets across the way are playing with sparklers, I'm not all that worried. You know?

I sat down at the lake this afternoon, with my feet in the water and wrote in a journal about how this place is perhaps the place I'm supposed to be. Not specifically Lake Marion in Santee State Park (Cypress View Campground space #37 in case I don't ever show up again), but here, in the trees, near the water. I was thinking that yesterday as I was driving through Francis Marion National Forest.

Maybe for some of us, those early experiences really are imprints and guides for the rest of our lives. Maybe where we start determines where we end up. Perhaps we're searching for those places the rest of our lives, hoping to come close to it again. For some of us. Maybe.

Yesterday as I was thinking, I was thinking specifically about forests, but today as I was reflecting, I realized that it's really much, much more than that.

I have always been a nomad, I think. Happiest out on the road, exploring. On my own. (Although let me tell you, a little help paddling through the swamp today would not have been amiss) When I was little it was on my bike. I can remember riding out as far as I was allowed. And begging to go further. Eventually making my way to Rose Hill Cemetery, and then making the loop further out. I could be gone for hours and be really happy.

On a side note, the little kids from across the way are now heading down to the lake with their daddy, fishing poles in hand. The smell of their propane lantern, burning my nostrils. I remember that smell. My groovy battery powered lamp may be easier to operate and take care of, but it lacks a certain...evocative quality.

There's more to say, but I'm beat and the light is attracting the bugs. By the time I get to the bathroom, and back, it will be my bed time. I need to get up early so I can make my way to get another swamp. There's so much to see and do traveling out of the way.

April 10, 2006

There is something slightly wrong about the fact that I'm in an Econo Lodge motel room...and with my AAA discount, the room is $54+tax. What the hell? How is that "economy"?

I spent the day wandering around...captivated by swamps, transfixed by azeallas, entralled by dogwoods. I have once again spent quite a bit of time in graveyards and near churches.

It's probably for the best that I'm not camping this evening. My prayers have been answered, and the first day or so is always awful.

April 8, 2006

Let's see...what all did we do today? Debi and I wandered into downtown Savannah and stumbled upon the Savannah College of Art and Design's 8th Annual International Festival. Had some good food and there was a decent reggae band playing when we arrived. In my not so humble opinion, the dancers from Gotta Dance Studio in Aurora, MO do a much better job than the dancers in the SCAD Department of Dance Theater. They were truly pretty awful, and from what I could tell, their choreographer really, really liked a particular hand movement. I'll admit that it was sharp...the first time I saw it. By the fourth and fifth dance though...the 20th time in each dance...it had lost most, if not all, of its appeal.

We had dinner tonight at Uncle Bubba's Oyster House. That's Paula Deen's place on the Island. Or her brother's. Or something like that. They sell t-shirts that say "Momma loves it when Daddy eats Oysters." We had the chargrilled oysters. They're what I would call roasted? Good. I had the shrimp and grits for dinner, although I think I would have rather had the BBQ shrimp. The shrimp and grits was OK, but not great. The pieces of "bacon" were probably the best thing about the dish. Very smokey and flavorful. Which was a good thing because they somehow managed to completely fuck up the pecan pie. It was AWFUL. Debi went with the key lime pie, and it was wonderful. Dave had the strawberry shortcake, and he said it was wonderful. My pecan pie was hideous. The filling wasn't what you would think of when you think of pecan pie, and the top of it was thick and heavy. Debi seemed to think that perhaps they had made the mistake of adding bourbon or whiskey to the recipe and that's what caused the breakdown. I dunno. It was a sad, sad situation, though.

The rain here this afternoon was awful. AWFUL. Thunder and lightning and the whole nine yards...including torrential downpour. Now aren't I glad I'm not camping?

April 7, 2006

I am arrived in Savannah. What an incredibly long day. Got a ticket outside of Birmingham. The guy said he'd been following me, and while I was speeding, that was OK because I was moving with the flow of traffic. What wasn't OK was my lane changing. I now know why people in the South pick a lane and stick with it. Apparently changing lanes makes you a target for the po-po. He said that if I hadn't been moving in and out of the passing lane, which correct me if I'm wrong, is what you're supposed to do...that's why it's called a passing lane...he would have never really even noticed me. Motherfuckers.

He wrote me a ticket for unsafe lane changes. Huh? I always use my blinker. I'm not erratic. I suppose, though, it's better than a ticket for 80-85 in a 70 (calm down Sner...he said that was OK since that's what every one else was doing). He said probably around $100...while the speeding ticket would have been around $300. Not quite sure what the impact on my insurance will be. (Recall my last ticket was due to drop off in August)

We actually had quite the long chat after he wrote the ticket. He noticed my USM alumni frame around my plate so we talked about that (apparently one of his children went to USM). I told him I was from NV; he said he had a sister who lived in CA and he wondered why black people didn't really stop in NV or ID or OR on their western migration. He said that he thought the racial tensions wouldn't have been as bad. I told him that NV had been referred to as the MS of the West.

I also made up a wonderful story. Y'all know that if I get pulled over, Wayne is my husband (sorry Des...I'm willing to use him to my benefit). He was saying something about how he could tell that I was intelligent based on how I responded to him when he asked me for my license and registration, making sure he could see my hands, etc. I told him that was because my husband was an officer back home in Carson. And that I was on my way to Atlanta to pick him for a vacation...hadn't seen him since Christmas. Wayne and I have been married for 10 years in July, and we agreed to make some sacrifices so I could get this degree finished. Told the lovely officer I would probably wait until tomorrow to tell Wayne about the ticket as I didn't want to ruin anything. He said that would probably be a good idea. As I drove along afterward, I spent way too much creating the rest of the backstory to that little interlude. I have no clue whether the officer actually bought it all or not, but eh. I actually let him do most of the talking, as is my usual M.O. So perhaps he did buy it. I dunno.

All in all, a WONDERFUL chat with the highway patrolman. Half an hour later, I was free to go. He told me to wait a couple of weeks before calling about my ticket and how to handle it...he wouldn't have gotten down to the courthouse to turn it in before then. I found that to be a little odd. Who knows, though. It is Alabama.

I was late getting into Debi's. I thought I'd be here around 6:00 but with the ticket detour and all of the road construction in Alabama and Georgia, I didn't make it until closer to 8:30. Ughhh. That's a long day. I started this morning at 5:30 (when I rolled out of bed to get going). Was on the road by 9:00 this morning and was making really good time until the ticket. Stopped at Treasure Hunt in Meridian and picked up some work-out clothes and a new bike helmet (really needed a new one...my old one was too old and icky). All selling at 40% off.

Word of advice: the Starbucks Blackberry Green Tea Frappacinno is a much better idea than reality. In reality it was kinda gross. Pretty. But gross.

I am desperately trying to have a period. I think for once in my life I really, really want it show up...even though now is a really inconvenient time. I've been spotting since Mardi Gras and that's a long time. I just want it over with so I know that something's not wrong with me. You know? It's funny how attached you get to the stupid thing. All the while it's doing exactly what it's supposed to, and you hate it. But when things get out of whack, all you want is for it to get back to normal. I am hopeful that within the next couple of days *something* will happen. I've had my normal discharge and the requisite cramping (perhaps a little worse this month than in previous months), but no change. I know y'all really, really wanted to know that...particularly the readers of the male persuasion. But I'm worried about it. I'm sure you can understand that.

April 4, 2006

Took Esteban in for brakes and a new battery today. $400 later. *sigh* Have to pay the car insurane next. *sigh*

My beloved Royals lost their home opener. To freakin' Detroit. Can you believe that.

So very tired. I want to write more, but I don't think I'm going to make it tonight.

April 2, 2006

So, I hope that y'all caught that yesterday was April Fool's Day. Did y'all catch that yesterday was April Fool's Day? Please tell me that y'all caught that yesterday was April Fool's Day.

Pretty good one, huh? *grin*

The response was quite interesting. I got a ton of emails and a ton of calls. It's lovely to know how supportive my friends are.

Hope y'all are having a good start to the month.

April 1, 2006

Ummmmmm...so yeah. Not quite sure what I'm going to do, but all of the news at the doctor's office wasn't good on Thursday. It's kinda funny that this happens NOW of all times. *sigh*

The HB is coming over this evening so we can discuss options and what to do now. All very mature and sophisticated, I'm sure. He did say last weekend that he didn't believe in the prevailing southern practice of getting married just because you're pregnant, which is a relief to me. Y'all know how I feel about that.

*sigh*

(please check the date. please check the date. please check the date)