tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-129193682024-03-07T00:24:05.344-07:00My sometimes blogShit you probably wouldn't want to know.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-51621822775175216992009-01-26T16:11:00.003-07:002009-01-26T16:19:29.089-07:00and some more......<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOg1T2ikD4M5AVKXllHtDC6t5HjXBFs0uSrIQ1Z9U6R59V1TIbZcBCTSxe2UZBLFE3WreX0i6iy0tXfUxHw5IgiXicxih_qlYsGFlrn4FutJ5sjgXh6BFGzGQn5_eifzhHeTR6UQ/s1600-h/100_0784.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295745977813808018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOg1T2ikD4M5AVKXllHtDC6t5HjXBFs0uSrIQ1Z9U6R59V1TIbZcBCTSxe2UZBLFE3WreX0i6iy0tXfUxHw5IgiXicxih_qlYsGFlrn4FutJ5sjgXh6BFGzGQn5_eifzhHeTR6UQ/s320/100_0784.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHv6kRYA0zSO9r2lcYFNcOvAmZlXnvYE5Btfz4_snGfCCobwl17X9FtSSrIPMk9JGjui4M_DDxXEJSkVfQvQoq3TDnaAdFqeY-_NMiAyjR2kA144OEKoKb_ot5eWrBQpHQ41DAEg/s1600-h/100_0719.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295745978843359602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHv6kRYA0zSO9r2lcYFNcOvAmZlXnvYE5Btfz4_snGfCCobwl17X9FtSSrIPMk9JGjui4M_DDxXEJSkVfQvQoq3TDnaAdFqeY-_NMiAyjR2kA144OEKoKb_ot5eWrBQpHQ41DAEg/s320/100_0719.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFJQzeKmLsnw_XY7vI8yvaeWB9IO60J9haGBED7TN3bTww7KvhAbX4bDyGBTUTHAEIKt3gH89_l_QOz7dkjlRcSQJaRgoSJk4_hdSG8lKdBSyWztTWrkjKhzgyWzYytcfWGWIrpg/s1600-h/100_0780.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295744500160866834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFJQzeKmLsnw_XY7vI8yvaeWB9IO60J9haGBED7TN3bTww7KvhAbX4bDyGBTUTHAEIKt3gH89_l_QOz7dkjlRcSQJaRgoSJk4_hdSG8lKdBSyWztTWrkjKhzgyWzYytcfWGWIrpg/s320/100_0780.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnVzORPuapX3I0blJ9-xeMpB2jjqlW5cUkdrXFVilhWPOZUCILKR_9o_4Mo2LiDNyfBZt3UIb7umNAEqFGfjw6v9plXYoxHVQ28WPowyLIUE98PDECuUOoXsQ_2SyBaX9IfdESw/s1600-h/100_0741.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295744493524293330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnVzORPuapX3I0blJ9-xeMpB2jjqlW5cUkdrXFVilhWPOZUCILKR_9o_4Mo2LiDNyfBZt3UIb7umNAEqFGfjw6v9plXYoxHVQ28WPowyLIUE98PDECuUOoXsQ_2SyBaX9IfdESw/s320/100_0741.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ZhWMDX2_5hmGXF3aNHW03TQsUJ94ToNqlGRzpeAznzfgjJsoyK_hCeCu6ngp9haEvGbMexVZvHZ6Q6jgL8SqGX2LK6L2V-bMiVGS8TYXCujMJCdkg846jGLHTjOdpDOOA0eQyg/s1600-h/100_0722.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295744492817088130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ZhWMDX2_5hmGXF3aNHW03TQsUJ94ToNqlGRzpeAznzfgjJsoyK_hCeCu6ngp9haEvGbMexVZvHZ6Q6jgL8SqGX2LK6L2V-bMiVGS8TYXCujMJCdkg846jGLHTjOdpDOOA0eQyg/s320/100_0722.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-60976907119983862962009-01-26T15:51:00.005-07:002009-01-26T16:09:50.410-07:00Its been a while<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi18Gcl-oq06wsVblCYRJkUO_8VcVrLpn5BinOd1J-Xv4Ss8AZrWPEIr5P3Qs62Ar2LjVjffb7IUG5m5tWwqpMZVS51hh0UgKr8ANrrVExB7Bn1YewpnHBJvg7IyRt5wPgK7S9DUQ/s1600-h/100_0733.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295740011232231762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi18Gcl-oq06wsVblCYRJkUO_8VcVrLpn5BinOd1J-Xv4Ss8AZrWPEIr5P3Qs62Ar2LjVjffb7IUG5m5tWwqpMZVS51hh0UgKr8ANrrVExB7Bn1YewpnHBJvg7IyRt5wPgK7S9DUQ/s320/100_0733.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTA-2jk2VMxHmwI-tTE34f1xiJ8zz33PbqmSPubUi8NFv8HqJt27gELae9i8eiJjMn0Tvt6mbkkrShul15VtshabkivcyYpCrGweJAXgw-T58t5WOClu3tgJHO6ydad3N3kWyCwg/s1600-h/100_0721.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295740005979131554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTA-2jk2VMxHmwI-tTE34f1xiJ8zz33PbqmSPubUi8NFv8HqJt27gELae9i8eiJjMn0Tvt6mbkkrShul15VtshabkivcyYpCrGweJAXgw-T58t5WOClu3tgJHO6ydad3N3kWyCwg/s320/100_0721.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTEuGHFsOSBZMjyi_oZRaUeYerpLuIQ3WlrSAXysegzG1WZyAhZUiQO3dikqsXIuiJWfmFZliaSsVs-zTQsb7DRKFlzuYoqGgQuoM88dVys2Yz9R6eTKGbupc2G0w5JE-lP_EuA/s1600-h/100_0717.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295740008126515698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTEuGHFsOSBZMjyi_oZRaUeYerpLuIQ3WlrSAXysegzG1WZyAhZUiQO3dikqsXIuiJWfmFZliaSsVs-zTQsb7DRKFlzuYoqGgQuoM88dVys2Yz9R6eTKGbupc2G0w5JE-lP_EuA/s320/100_0717.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFh1crxDvWgGtO-rtrcOyglyEUpmXQrl2bYAAhq0vaACQNsOu6ZP52vqXPGnSWLaXfsMMC5QqX122kgpyb9bZH1_RSkzOD34BH02hc_P9rsT4MBjDlPhaveVzd42edXA6OhE-VBQ/s1600-h/100_0713.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295739999956213890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFh1crxDvWgGtO-rtrcOyglyEUpmXQrl2bYAAhq0vaACQNsOu6ZP52vqXPGnSWLaXfsMMC5QqX122kgpyb9bZH1_RSkzOD34BH02hc_P9rsT4MBjDlPhaveVzd42edXA6OhE-VBQ/s320/100_0713.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEjPHcPAxChwfrbg-Nz8uRVif-jRx3R3uN7pkaFXXp2ASqNse4v-0VMLUbLCkRod9fuR1PZrUAtWxrvrfbrd6oZHhL9wEX2oA9TdVGaBXLUBi_7BQo_82Hk47NVvwGocPYLjzZA/s1600-h/100_0697.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295739986874037154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEjPHcPAxChwfrbg-Nz8uRVif-jRx3R3uN7pkaFXXp2ASqNse4v-0VMLUbLCkRod9fuR1PZrUAtWxrvrfbrd6oZHhL9wEX2oA9TdVGaBXLUBi_7BQo_82Hk47NVvwGocPYLjzZA/s320/100_0697.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div> </div></div></div></div></div><br /><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwoQNEiejpb0MGUsdIVfnGxzEuBOQ6PMHVmcK3nelQ1x6K3tlbLv8hgQVw8O2j56wL99pj_TIAULNU' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p> </p><p>Here are some pictures and video of Christmas and New Years. Sorry the video is so dark, but my brother is playing the guitar he got his son for Christmas.</p>Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-88292456241805277302008-11-02T10:55:00.002-07:002008-11-02T11:06:44.773-07:00My New Ride<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZIt_IDSqNXyvuOE2jwoXQQukvFMdpBKgONYTJf5N_GP7z1a8HdK5Eeqwk2s2PvZT81_TwCKOKIQDd4-mDFjsCw0KlXcdd_9eCXBeFKqL0C-pGnc2hrdMHjkiUCoYTf8Xg9MgcxA/s1600-h/100_0093.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264123155880194834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZIt_IDSqNXyvuOE2jwoXQQukvFMdpBKgONYTJf5N_GP7z1a8HdK5Eeqwk2s2PvZT81_TwCKOKIQDd4-mDFjsCw0KlXcdd_9eCXBeFKqL0C-pGnc2hrdMHjkiUCoYTf8Xg9MgcxA/s320/100_0093.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I got a new car! Well an almost new car. It is a 2007 Ford Focus and I LOVE it. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Just for some background, so you can understand why I am so excited, you must know that I have never owned anything that was less than 10 years old. I have always bought very used vehicles that I could pay cash for and drive away. This is the first time I have actually signed a loan for a car. It was daunting. But it gets 37 miles per gallon which compared to the truck I was driving that got 17 mpg, it is a huge improvement. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>In other news, Kiri got her driver's license and is very upset that I bought myself a new car, but didn't buy her one. Then she was even angrier when I just looked at her and laughed. She will be turning 17 soon, which seems all weird and disjointed. Where did my little kir-monster go? She is talking about moving out, and I'm seriously thinking about letting her.</div>Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-32341788936458500972008-10-09T23:00:00.002-06:002008-10-09T23:03:57.835-06:00Comment directed toward ignorant fucking bigots who write Letters to the Editor in the local PaperNOTE TO SELF: Replying to the idiots who comment on opinion pieces in the local newspaper will only make you REALLY angry. And it will force you to face the fact that most of the people in your community are ignorant hicks.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-70276911019170658762008-10-05T21:27:00.004-06:002008-10-05T21:47:41.849-06:00Horse Play<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKazoicEF6YaSKEO-zDIF8zIVOTnbo-t1hXlfT8_kveOGrJ7yp85IoZeBTmzqK-kQrSHpHcDmtm2w0pkxPAPPP5NH0BeGv0f5L4omCP_YtoGczV_vqqftbAJtP8OJ36QQn-MAfvQ/s1600-h/005.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253882078596153570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKazoicEF6YaSKEO-zDIF8zIVOTnbo-t1hXlfT8_kveOGrJ7yp85IoZeBTmzqK-kQrSHpHcDmtm2w0pkxPAPPP5NH0BeGv0f5L4omCP_YtoGczV_vqqftbAJtP8OJ36QQn-MAfvQ/s320/005.JPG" border="0" /></a> I just washed my hair and now I have horse goobers in it.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMvYWqSGiZxGBlzGB1ZpOiCj9p3jMUkbDhPf8JiH3xTEJxeY_2WMkrRm9PAs9Pi8BB7SCOgaNb4OJjtX6ZwnsZerBMVdRAMTwOcjE9lMWs6HpLSP_Rt3-xofTi-gpv3UVOWT9hA/s1600-h/025.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253882086213896818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMvYWqSGiZxGBlzGB1ZpOiCj9p3jMUkbDhPf8JiH3xTEJxeY_2WMkrRm9PAs9Pi8BB7SCOgaNb4OJjtX6ZwnsZerBMVdRAMTwOcjE9lMWs6HpLSP_Rt3-xofTi-gpv3UVOWT9hA/s320/025.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><p></p>Feeling her oats<br /><p><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzTHZZmPuyv5nC659LYL1UTdQEjbfgPTjEacFrtJwIiJXK3UbzBtJjrBZ5rTebk3kEVnpHOsoOwiWQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><br /><p>Hopefully I did this right. I've never uploaded a video before. </p><br /><p>This is my crazy horse. It was our first cool fall day and it had rained some. My horse was acting like a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">looney</span> as she enjoyed a break from the heat.</p><br /><p>Kendall was there getting wood (hahahahahaha) and burning garbage because I guess that's the cowboy way. Not my way, but I've always been a somewhat uncoventional country girl.</p>Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-79613551272063130172008-10-03T22:00:00.002-06:002008-10-03T22:08:19.637-06:00Please God, take my uterusI hate my periods! Without getting too graphic, let me just say that when I'm on my period, I wish to rip my uterus out of my body. The pain, the cramps, the fatigue, the crankiness, the heavy heavy flow. If I believed in a God, I would ask him to make me menopausal NOW! I will take hot flashes and vaginal dryness over what I have now.<br />I gave birth to my daughter at 20 years of age. At the time, I asked my doctor to tie my tubes. He wouldn't do it. I swore to him that I would not want another child, and yet he still would not do it. I was too young, he said. I might change my mind, he said. I said fuck you, you piece of shit, tie the damn tubes. But no. Now I'm wishing I would've asked him to take the whole kit and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">kaboodle</span>. I don't need it anymore. I am now 37, and I'm still absolutely sure I will never want to get pregnant again. If I could get rid of the periods, it would be a double bonus. A jackpot, if you will. <br />Today at work, I looked like a zombie. A very angry, angry zombie. I'm sure the visitors were impressed.<br />So, if you believe in a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">deity</span> of some sort, ask him, her, or it to take my uterus. I offer it to them as a bloody sacrifice. I don't even ask for anything in return. Just take it. It's got to be worth something spiritually speaking.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-20347412527552930572008-09-29T00:57:00.002-06:002008-09-29T01:09:39.668-06:00ConflictedI went backpacking on Friday night with a bunch of young college kids. They kicked my ass on the trail. I was definitely the old lady of the group. <br />We went on the East side of Zion, and it was very pretty. I have some pretty nice gear, but the sleeping pads they make for backpackers are for shit. I know I could get something comfy-er, but that would add like 10 extra pounds on my pack and take up too much room. But you'd think that if we can put people in a space shuttle and take them to the moon, we could make a lightweight yet soft and comfy sleeping pad for backpackers. I swear my hips were aching within an hour of laying there. Then I had strange dreams that Kiri had brought home two dogs and I was worrying about how to take care of all the animals. <br />The next morning I woke up and found that a mouse or a squirrel had chewed on the sucky tube on my camel pack that I had JUST purchased last week. Damn rodents. <br />Oh, the funniest part was when I woke up in the middle of the night and I had to pee. I crawled out of my tent and walked what I thought was a good distance from the campsite. I didn't bring a headlamp, so I thought I was peeing next to a big black rock. I was mid-stream, when the rock started to snore. I was totally urinating next to one of the college kids tents. I felt kind of stupid, but I also had to chuckle.<br />On the way back to the trailhead, we saw 6 bighorn sheep. That was awesome. <br />I stopped on the way home and bought a 32 oz Mt. Dew and some Cheetos. Then I went to Becca's house and gorged myself on veggies and dip. <br />It was a pretty good weekend.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-80612362249306619482008-09-15T17:44:00.004-06:002008-09-15T18:02:21.096-06:00I'm a Super Star<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzuuDW2AdSrttNsw1JgLl9lvmMq1KXagZx8FgAkGsFc7xrocwtn__8kX417O7E4-EePSD5YY2xcaBf8aFv0ww3_rOZR_IE5OU0dzjtjO32jb7j99nuQHVy6wOBleYCq2PxxAdEmg/s1600-h/175607.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246401896399521746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzuuDW2AdSrttNsw1JgLl9lvmMq1KXagZx8FgAkGsFc7xrocwtn__8kX417O7E4-EePSD5YY2xcaBf8aFv0ww3_rOZR_IE5OU0dzjtjO32jb7j99nuQHVy6wOBleYCq2PxxAdEmg/s320/175607.jpg" border="0" /></a> I look kinda scared in the top photo. But hey! Free Beer!<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbYBYpY7mbxXUqaeKjjQh62XtdcKE5Ul45syGiaSkx21CxbMEOdAUoKG-vCX41fZnHGSn5ES936hVIQFp-bWkT8VyHdqbWOkwFz_P-up0G1cqusMZqwvxU9HZDREQoO1wOQIJow/s1600-h/175451.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246401788788927586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbYBYpY7mbxXUqaeKjjQh62XtdcKE5Ul45syGiaSkx21CxbMEOdAUoKG-vCX41fZnHGSn5ES936hVIQFp-bWkT8VyHdqbWOkwFz_P-up0G1cqusMZqwvxU9HZDREQoO1wOQIJow/s320/175451.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The above pictures are of my two wonderful cats. The all black one is Bella (Kiri named her after the girl in the Twilight series). And the black and white one is Furball (I didn't name him really. When I got him, they said his name was Verbal, but I thought they said Furball, and that is unfortunately the name he comes to). I am sleep deprived and have no make-up, so don't look at me, look at the kitty cuteness.</div><div> </div><div><br /><div>I got an award at work today. It's called a Star Award. Cuz I'm a Star. That's right, you heard me. A STAR. And it came with a good chunk of moola. Made me feel good, as I haven't gotten an award in a while. It made me feel like this year of hell was actually worth it, and people realize that I do a darn good job. I love my job, and I'm proud of what I do. </div><div>So anyway, I'll feel like a star for about a day, then it will be back to the grindstone.</div><br /><br /><div></div><div>My smoke and tack wagon bit the dust. The red explorer is now scrap metal. So, I now have nothing to smoke in nor haul my horse tack in. I'm debating on what to buy. I would LOVE a motorcycle, but I can't drive it in the winter. I will probably get some kind of small car. I looked at Mini-Coopers, but damn they're expensive. No way that will happen. Maybe a little honda or toyota. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div></div>Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-19714889887842291562008-09-09T21:34:00.002-06:002008-09-09T21:41:24.148-06:00Just like X-FilesI just watched the pilot of the tv show "Fringe". It was good. I liked it. I also could predict just about every plot line, but then I'm a huge geek and watch way too much sci-fi for my own good. It reminded me a lot of X-files. Or twilight zone. But all in all quite enjoyable.<br />I have to go back to work tomorrow after 7 days off. I don't feel ready. I didn't do any of the projects I had assigned for myself during this mini vaycay. Oh, well. I enjoyed the down time. I watched a lot of movies and tv on dvd. I re-read the Fellowship of the Ring, and will start on the Two Towers next. I usually read the trilogy every year, cuz again Big Geek.<br />When I scheduled my time off from work, everyone asked me what I was going to do, and if I was going anywhere fun. It made me feel a little silly taking time off to read and watch movies. Like it was a waste of good vacation time. But I don't have the funds to travel over seas, so this, in my mind is the next best thing.<br />So, raise your glass to all of the hermits in the world, and the Big Geeks. We prove that you don't have to go to Mexico to have a fabulous vacation.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-31562346608926789312008-09-09T02:18:00.002-06:002008-09-09T02:29:19.746-06:00remember me, the crazy lady?So, I guess I'm back. I had to do something so that last post wasn't the last you ever heard of me. Things are better. Not great but better. I don't drink so much anymore, though I still haven't kicked the smoking habit. There is always such good excuses to keep on puffing.<br />I moved into a new little house, which I adore. Now if my teenager would just pick up after herself, I would invite friends over more often. But I'm tired of being a maid to my child. I had a child solely for the purpose to fetch and carry for me and force her to do menial tasks. But alas, it is I that fetches, carries, cleans, cooks, shops and provides endless entertainment for the teen. It's just not right. I did all those things for my parents and I have earned the servitude of my child for at least 18 years. Such is life.<br />That reminds me of a quote from a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">tv</span> show I have been watching lately. The show is "Weeds" and the main character, the suburban queen of bud, has just told her dealer that something wasn't fair. The dealer turns and says "fare is what you pay to get on the bus. That's the only fare I know of."<br />I have also been watching "Dexter", "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Battlestar</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Galactica</span>", "Tudors" and "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">MXC</span>" all thanks to the magic that is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">netflix</span>. I got rid of my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">satellite</span> dish and now just watch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">DVD's</span> when I am bored. I LOVE IT!<br />Well, I hope all you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">bloggers</span> and friends have a good night. It's 2 a.m. and I need a smoke.<br />Love ya.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-19456914967481910622007-10-17T21:02:00.000-06:002007-10-17T21:13:36.110-06:00My so called lifeI will be honest with you all. I am drunk. At this very moment I am drunk-blogging. So, take it or leave it, the things that will follow are heavily influenced by alcohol.<br /> I am totally fucked up. I am a fuck up. Anyone who knows me knows what a totaly loser I am.<br />I haven't filed for divorce yet, even though I do not love my husband. He is a shit, and I should hate him. Instead I feel this fucked up sense of obligation to the man I spent the last 13 years with. I don't want to hurt anyone, so instead I just drag things on until they implode.<br />I drink too much. I smoke too much. My daughter hates me. My mom has cancer. I just want to cry.<br />I wish.....I wish I were different. I wish I were as strong as I thought I was. I am weak. I am a coward. Sometimes, when I am not numb or drunk, I hate myself. I can't sleep, or eat, or do anything productive. What the hell use am I, anyway?<br />Sorry. I also apologize too much.<br />Nevermind. I'm just drunk.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-35475546052881698942007-08-03T23:04:00.000-06:002007-08-03T23:17:45.982-06:00Upside Down and BackwardsI have been debating whether to post about what is happening in my life, but as I can't sleep anymore EVER, I decided what the hell. Post God damn it. So. I turned 36 on July 27<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>, and I left my husband almost 2 months ago. I will be 36 and divorced twice. Single mom again. But in reality, I have always been a single mom. I accept my failings in that department. I never let my husband really be a Dad to Kiri, but then he never tried very hard anyway.<br />Fuck.<br />Okay, I'm done talking about that.<br />Lets talk about funny, possibly gay Italian men visiting my Park and wanting me to be in their strange topless and oiled picture (they were topless and oiled, I was strictly following uniform standards and kept my shirt on). These incredibly funny, good looking Italian men were at the top of our road, and I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">happened</span> to be getting off of a hike when they were taking pictures of themselves. They immediately accosted me to be in one of their pictures, and I relented. I talked with them for a good half hour and enjoyed every minute of it. A different funny German tourist took our picture and these guys were hugging me like I was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">their</span> sister. I say sister because I do believe they were gay, or I just couldn't believe anyone, even strange Italian men, would flirt with my 36 year old self. They had rented a red 2007 Mustang for their vacation and were debating with me as to whether or not they could get to Bryce Canyon in 1 hour instead of the requisite 2. I had a great time.<br />And again a happy happy birthday to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">MissuzJ</span>. You rock. I love you.<br />Now it is time to lay sleepless in my bed again. Goodnight.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-15757391237933278262007-06-27T18:53:00.000-06:002007-06-27T19:38:42.829-06:00Super Cool!!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqyXqA4jUyV-gfKU0hDrCg3HDfcDb1vADvu_AgT0pkjwJ-OJlkCd8lq_s6hJkQnCUSfCzq3JysrXv4JDqy5PnHgRoepQGeIXA-NmY9MshQ2aGwb2Qit5TUuKfClMRP_CQP-WfbjA/s1600-h/P1010001.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080922324365904210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqyXqA4jUyV-gfKU0hDrCg3HDfcDb1vADvu_AgT0pkjwJ-OJlkCd8lq_s6hJkQnCUSfCzq3JysrXv4JDqy5PnHgRoepQGeIXA-NmY9MshQ2aGwb2Qit5TUuKfClMRP_CQP-WfbjA/s320/P1010001.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjod0V01DMPQl8NoezH7EmLJrIfTGsSmZS4WHr42cWeJvU5MbNUz-4JycMKm1WjpMwyklEis0paZP9a-RsHg7EI21HuWRr942zbR13SfeONQobRkus2qO5EpdGnpAeV_o5D2vdyRg/s1600-h/P1010002.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080922328660871522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjod0V01DMPQl8NoezH7EmLJrIfTGsSmZS4WHr42cWeJvU5MbNUz-4JycMKm1WjpMwyklEis0paZP9a-RsHg7EI21HuWRr942zbR13SfeONQobRkus2qO5EpdGnpAeV_o5D2vdyRg/s320/P1010002.JPG" border="0" /></a> How cool is this shit??!!! I found this lil beauty in the service road at work. I watched him for about 20 minutes as he ate this squirrel, but he started to get pissy about me hanging around. I was afraid he would regurgitate his meal, so I left him to his dinner in peace. Fucking wicked cool! I can't quit talking about it. I was just...well....COOL!Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-91448071585587381282007-04-21T17:47:00.000-06:002007-04-21T18:00:43.608-06:00Roughin' itI'm enjoying my one day off this week. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Doin</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">nuthin</span>. That's right, nothing. No laundry, no dishes, no cooking, no cleaning, nothing. It's sweet heaven.<br />I went to Boise for a week last month to learn how to "listen". Really to learn how to help someone work through a traumatic situation, like some fatality in the Park. I had to do a lot of role playing, and lead discussions of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">fictitious</span> events, then get critiqued afterward. One of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">criticisms</span> I received was whenever I would begin to speak I would make a soft clicking sound first. A vocal tick much like saying "uh". So, I started paying more attention to the way I speak, and it is true. I click. Especially when I'm nervous. I'm a clicker. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kodi</span> the clicker, that's me. Very humbling.<br /><br />I then went to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Fruita</span>, Colorado in mid April, and am now, officially, a Tread Lightly Master Trainer! So, if you wish to learn how to Tread Lightly, I'm your master.<br /><br />Next, I get to lead a Leave No Trace Master Educator course for a week. This involves backpacking for 4 days. Ah, hiking in 80 degree weather with a 45 lb pack, cooking dehydrated meals, peeing in the sage brush, drinking and eating sand, crawling into a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">bivy</span> tent, slipping into your lightweight sleeping bag smelling like sweaty girl, and sleeping on a one inch pad. Only to wake up and repeat. God I love backpacking!!!!!!! Who seriously wouldn't? Makes me feel more alive than anything else in this world.<br /><br />I'll try and post pictures of my backpack when I return.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-22352877594497017862007-03-02T17:02:00.000-07:002007-03-02T17:14:39.671-07:00Boot scootin boogieI was at Becca's house the other night singing CMT karaoke revolution, and she totally rocked that song "Boot Scootin Boogie". I am constantly amazed at how great a singer that girl is.<br />So, hmmmmm. What's been going on for the last 3 months? Work, Kiri shit, Husband shit, and yet even more work.<br />Kiri is absofucking driving me crazy lately. She thinks she can do whatever she likes, and when I try to ground her, she just ignores it and still does whatever she likes. EVERY morning is a fight to get her ready for school. I usually drive her the couple blocks to school as it is on my way out to work, but she is always late. When I tell her to hurry, she yells "Shut up" or "I KNOW!!!!" and that pisses me off, so I yell back, and then I end up running late for work and in a foul mood. God, teen girls are beyond aggravating.<br />I'm heading to Boise, Idaho this month for training. I'll be gone for a week. Then I'll be gone for a week the beginning of April for a conference, THEN I'll be backpacking for a week at the end of April. All this should be fun and exciting, but all I can think of is "What the hell will my daughter be doing while I'm away?" She has no respect for Kendall, so thats no help. I don't know what to do with her. I'm completely drained, and feel like saying "go ahead and fuck your life up". But of course I can't say that, so hence the stress and worry. <br />Maybe I'm stressing too much. I mean she's not pregnant, and I don't think she's on drugs, and her grades are excellent. But what if I let my guard down, and she gets pregnant and becomes a meth addict? What then?<br />So, that's my life. Riding herd on a 15 year old brilliant beautiful strong-willed stubborn girl. Lord help me.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-1354436534500566442006-12-04T12:16:00.000-07:002006-12-04T12:25:57.511-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRljTXl5T-ykILSMytEWgCfZRNkYOc8lneC7y02gZ5R-wnag0W5wIXKnzvcurACVC215Ox3Pi1wFn2r3KpidOdlM0kINblaYppjAhMoIIuKzpUfRberaDzwxAkVwNt5r55ycFbdw/s1600-h/000_5494.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004754546601333266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRljTXl5T-ykILSMytEWgCfZRNkYOc8lneC7y02gZ5R-wnag0W5wIXKnzvcurACVC215Ox3Pi1wFn2r3KpidOdlM0kINblaYppjAhMoIIuKzpUfRberaDzwxAkVwNt5r55ycFbdw/s320/000_5494.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is my little granddaughter, Lexie She came to visit after Thanksgiving. She has to be the most adorable little girl since...well.......Kiri. Speaking of Kiri, Lexie would cry everytime Kiri put her down or passed her to someone else. All she wanted was Kiri. Made my heart melt.</div>Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-34320688361005806552006-11-27T11:54:00.000-07:002006-11-27T12:08:12.740-07:00Turkey, explosive vomitting, and yet more turkeyThanksgiving at my mother's house was fun, dramatic, tense, delicious, and fantastic. I called Becca and got her fabulous banana cream pie <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">recipe</span>, and took them to the feast. They survived the 2 hour drive to the middle of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">freakin</span> desert, which was colder than shit by the way. My brother and his family were already there, so I opened a bottle of wine (risking the wrath of my Great Grandmother whom we call <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">Besse</span> which is Norwegian for Granny) and we waited for the rest of the family. <br />At one point once everyone had arrived, my mother was running around trying to get everything ready, dropped a glass bowl. The bowl broke, glass went everywhere, my mother cut herself, then she said some pretty bad cuss words I'm sure Mormons are not supposed to say, and then she declared that dinner was ruined and we might as well all go home. I couldn't figure out why she was in such a hurry as there was a minimum of 3 other people helping her get this set up (including myself) and it was almost finished, but instead of getting angry at her, I just cleaned up the glass and laughingly told her now I knew what to get her for Christmas. She calmed down and we commenced with the eating.<br />I ate too much, then drove home. I went to bed, then woke up around midnight with my gut on fire. I ran to the bathroom, and projectile <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">vomited</span> all over the place, continuing to vomit until it was nothing but dry heaves. THEN, I had to clean up the bathroom, go back to bed, then wake up at 6:00 a.m. to go to work.<br />No one else got sick, so it wasn't bad food. It was just me over eating I'm guessing.<br />My step-kids and my little step-granddaughter came over on Saturday and I cooked a whole new Thanksgiving meal. It was delicious, and I didn't barf.<br />The little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">grandbaby</span> LOVED Kiri, and wouldn't let her go all night long. My step-daughter suggested that Kiri come live in Vegas with her during the summer and babysit, but I don't think I'm entirely comfortable with that. We'll see.<br />Hope everyone had a great holiday. Love to all<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">Kodi</span>Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-1162856217438981162006-11-06T16:08:00.000-07:002006-11-13T13:01:58.223-07:00That's so EMO<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/1600/000_5285.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/320/000_5285.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/1600/000_4481.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/320/000_4481.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/1600/000_4485.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/320/000_4485.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Lately Kiri has been telling me everything is emo. I don't really understand what emo is but it has to do with certain bands like "my chemical romance" and such. So now I use the word all the time and it drives Kiri bananas. That reminds me of that annoying Gwen Stefani song where they sing "is bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s!"<br />Kiri was a punk rocker chick for Halloween, and she went out with her friends to go to the Haunted Hospital. Kendall wasn't feeling well, and went to bed at 7:00p.m. My brother happened to be in town that night, and we got to spend a nice couple of hours eating and talking. It was great to see him again. He is a wonderful brig bruddah. It's so nice to have a teenager in some aspects because I am no longer obliged to trot around the neighborhood with her on Halloween begging for treats. On the other hand, I do have to worry about where she is, what she is doing, and who she is hanging out with. I don't mind her friends, but she does have some boys much older than her that have been sniffing around a bit. I'm not nice to them.<br />My attitude has been adjusted and I'm enjoying myself at work a lot more now. I just needed a little break from the madness. Things are slowing down, and I'm catching up on some much delayed paperwork.<br />Did I tell you Kiri has a pet rat? She is very cute and her name is Jellybean. As pets go, rats are pretty easy. Its a cinch to clean up their cage, they don't bite like hamsters, and they are very smart and curious. Jellybean likes to crawl up my arm sleeve and hang out. My husband is completely disgusted by the rat, and won't touch me when I'm holding her.<br />The pictures I've posted are of my darling girl (who is now a blonde again) and her adorable pet rat jellybean who is apparently attacking Paris in a mousy rage.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-1162250279923594122006-10-30T16:03:00.000-07:002006-11-13T13:01:58.042-07:00Shut up, shut up, shut up, I'll fuck you upOkay. Time and reality have altered and Jesus is once again on earth in the second coming, or some such, because I'm actually posting a blog. I have no excuses for neglecting my blog other than my life is so predictable, bland, and boring I didn't wish to inflict it on any one else.<br /><br />For those of you who are KORN fans, you'll recognize the lyrics from my title. The words express everything I am feeling at this moment. It is fucking October 30th, and yet the visitors are still flocking to the Park. I realize I am being irrational, that these people are on a joyous vacation, but I'm burned out with answering the same questions over and over. Winter is my recharge time so that I may greet the masses of people in the Spring with a positive attitude and a polite demeanor. When the 50th person asks me where the bathroom is after they have JUST WALKED RIGHT PAST IT i feel like telling them to open their eyes and use their brains and I just bet they can figure it out. Of course I don't do this, as I am a consummate professional, and I smile and answer their question like I do day after day.<br />Okay, I'm whining. I have a fabulous job. I love my job. But I need a break. Does that make me a bad person?<br /><br />Then, to top it off, I come home to a messy house, a husband who wants to know whats for dinner and gets upset when I tell him it is whatever he makes himself, and a daughter who is demanding that I take her here and there and buy her everything under the fucking sun. I want to scream and be selfish and tell them I am on a fucking mommy strike as of right now! Your both able to fend for yourselves, so do it, and leave me alone for 5 minutes god damn it all.<br /><br />I'm tired of doing everything myself. I'm tired of being the responsible one. I'm just plain fucking tired.<br /><br />My post sucks. I'm a negative little bitch and I deserve to be flogged.<br /><br />I'll think of something happy when I blog again.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-1151348965056083372006-06-26T12:39:00.000-06:002006-11-13T13:01:57.839-07:00Yes, I am still alive (barely)Okay, I know it seems I have dropped off the face of the earth. I am truly sorry to you all that I haven't blogged in forever. I have been reading all of your blogs periodically, trying to keep up on all that is going on in your lives, but I have either been busier than shit or so fucking tired I can't even think about turning on the computer. So, to recap the last month or so.<br /><br />I went to New Mexico for a week after Memorial Day to teach Leave No Trace to the Philmont Boy Scout Ranch Staff, or whatever they are called. It was a blast, and the kids (I call them kids but they are all in their 20's) were very sweet and enthusiastic. They put me up in luxury accommodations that consisted of a canvas tent and two cots. It was pretty nice considering I expected to sleep in a little one man tent the whole time. However, the very first night I woke up around 3:00 a.m. to the noise of something moving around in my tent. Heart pounding (this is bear country after all) I grabbed the flashlight and turned it on. On top of my backpack sat the LARGEST skunk I have ever seen. I ran out of the tent, thinking "what the fuck do I do now?" and waited for the damn thing to get bored and leave. I had to wait 45 minutes for the sucker to finally decide find another tent to raid.<br /><br />I also went to Vegas to meet up with an old highschool friend of mine. It was a blast, and we drank to excess. I drove home the next day on 3 hours of sleep and the worst hangover known to man. I thought I was going to hurl several times on the way home, but made it intact. I crashed in bed for about an hour, when my husband comes home and informs me that we have to go up the family cabin and join in the Father's Day BBQ. So, I fucking get up and drag my ass over there to pick at the watermelon and drink gallons of water. Then my Father-in-law tells me that some dogs had attacked my nephew's pet sheep and would I go look at it and see if (and these are his exact words) I can "doctor" it up. I love my father-in-law and would do anything for him, but for some reason my in-laws all think I am a vet. But I say okay, I'll go take a look.<br />Ken and I drive over to the farm, me holding some antiseptic cream and I see the sheep on the ground. I walk over to it and it is obviously dead. I look at it's wounds and am truly horrified. The dogs had ripped out the sheeps entire back end and part of its stomach. There was no way the sheep could have survived. I am not a miracle worker. Feeling sad and hungover, I drive home, and Ken informs me he wants to make a side trip to look at something. I tell him "no" I want to go home and sleep. So then he yells at me, trying to make me feel guilty about the hangover and how I never help him with anything, and he should have just left me home. WHAT THE HOLY FUCK IS THIS SHIT!!!!!!! I just went to HIS family's BBQ (he never attends any of my family functions) and I inspected one of HIS family's dead sheep. I am still pissed about that.<br /><br />Thursday I backpacked into Ashdown Creek and met up with some other Park Service people to do more leave no trace. We all hiked out together on Friday, and I tore the shit out of my legs. I should have worn long pants, but it is so damn hot right now. But all in all, it was a fun trip with really good people.<br /><br />Saturday night was one of my dearest friends weddings. It was so much fun, a day filled with food, drinks, dancing, and karaoke. Kiri and I sang "Teenage Dirtbag" "Down in the River to Pray" and "I'm a believer" together. She teamed up with some friends to sing "I like Big Butts" or whatever it's called by Sir Mixalot. Too stinkin funny. I sang "Wonderboy" with my good friend Jennifer (who was the bride), and "Sweet Home Alabama" by myself. My husband got drunk and decided the karaoke was a competition and kept telling me to sing them "into the fucking ground". He then proceeded to call one of the other guests a dog dick, and so I drove him home. I left his ass there, and went back to party some more with Kiri and my friends. We left at 1:00 a.m. Hanging out and singing with Kiri was one of the best times I have had with her in a long time. She doesn't want to hang with mom much anymore, so I cherished every minute, every song. She looked beautiful up there singing. God, I adore my child.<br /><br />So that is it folks. I cut out a lot so as to not bore you all to death. But, just know that I am still here, and reading your posts. Summer is crazy busy for me, so my posts will be infrequent. I love you all.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-1147485934581311342006-05-12T19:42:00.000-06:002006-11-13T13:01:57.642-07:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/1600/Gsnake.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/320/Gsnake.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/1600/gophersnake2.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/320/gophersnake2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I drove up the road to do a Geology program today and I saw a Gopher snake. Mark it on the calendar girls, the first snake of the season has indeed been seen. Unfortunately, not photographed however. I didn't have my camera, so I used these public domain pictures from nps.gov. HURRAY, HURRAY, HURRAY!!!!!!!!! THE FIRST SNAKE! I'M SO EXCITED! The fabulous slithery dude was in the road so I got out of the truck and coaxed him off the road. He did not like that very much, and cocked his head to the side and huffed and puffed as he slowly moved away into the bushes. But I would seriously be bummed if he had been squished by a car. The following is my ode to the Gopher snake.<br /><br />Oh, Gopher snake so fat and sassy<br />If you got smashed it would be messy<br />So slide off into your shaded abode<br />and get the fuck off of the road.<br /><br />Thank you to those whom I know are clapping and whistling, and even perhaps giving me a "whoot whoot".<br />Sorry I have been a blog lazy ass lately. Busy busy busy in the summer months. Everyone wants to see the Park right now, so I barely have time to breathe let alone blog.<br />Next blog I will tell you all about the Concert fiasco with KiriKodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-1146026144666316202006-04-25T22:07:00.000-06:002006-11-13T13:01:57.354-07:00I slept untill 11:00 p.m. and I don't feel one ounce of guilt<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/1600/000_1809.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/320/000_1809.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/1600/000_1813.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/320/000_1813.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/1600/000_1802.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/320/000_1802.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/1600/000_1808.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1026/1116/320/000_1808.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Here are a few pictures from my quickie vacation. Kiri is playing basketball with her cousins. Kiri then took a very flattering picture of me the next morning with a slight hangover. My grandmother in her kitchen cooking my 500th meal of the day, and my brother riding his lawnmower while under the influence, naughty boy.<br /><br />I had a wonderful time visiting the family, and hanging out with Kiri. One negative side affect of the drinking of alcohol is that Kiri caught me smoking a cigarette, and burst into tears. She told me if I ever smoked again she would not ever speak to me. She calmed down after a while, but it put a damper on my party mood. Sometimes I wonder who is the parent and who is the child in this relationship. Kiri seems to think she is my keeper, or my conscience. It is very confusing. <br /><br />But we are back, and I spend the entire day (after I woke up at 11:00, that is. Which makes me think of Spinal Tap "But this one goes to eleven") watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I have always loved Buffy, but never owned the seasons, so it is fun to watch them all in order with no commercials. My friends have hopped on to the Buffy bandwagon, and I love that they love it. I can now share my eternal love for Buffy (and my lust for Angel and Spike) with them all.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-1144814441291370292006-04-11T21:37:00.000-06:002006-11-13T13:01:57.180-07:002 weeks and countingKodi is finally going on vacation!<br /><br />I will have a GLORIOUS 8 days off in a row starting April 21st. My God, I can not comprehend the beauty of a whole week off! I can think of nothing else until then. I plan on going to Salt Lake City to visit my Besse (Grandmother) for a couple days, then going to Logan to visit my brig brother (no that isn't a typo, that's what I call him) and his family for a couple days, AND THEN I plan on staying home for 4 days, eating popsicles, riding my horse, maybe hiking here and there, definitely reading some good books and watching lots of movies. Oh, and sleeping in every day!<br /><br />Kiri wants me to let her go to Vegas with her friend and her friend's mother to see a band called "Avenge Seven Fold" in concert. I don't know if I should let her go or not. I was 15 for my first concert, but my brother watched me like a hawk, and wouldn't even let me flirt even a little. Thank God for Brig Brothers! Do I trust someone to watch Kiri and keep her out of trouble? Do I really want to crush Kiri's dream of attending this concert (it means a lot to her to go). I am torn.<br /><br />Speaking of concerts, my first concert was the Judas Priest/Raven concert. That was back when I had no clue that Rob Halford was gay. I thought it was a rockin performance, and especially loved when Rob rode out on stage on a big Harley and sang "We don't need Parental guidance Here". Too cool for a 15 year old girl. My next concert was Bon Jovi/Cinderella concert. I thought Jon Bon Jovi was smokin hot as he sailed over the crowd singing "Shot Through the Heart." Oh, yeah baby. Then came the Kiss/Winger/Slaughter concert when I tried to get to the front of the stage when Slaughter was playing and got groped by every sweaty man around and almost passed out from lack of oxygen. Rocker Chick to the Core! After that was the Tesla/Firehouse concert in an outdoor arena. That was okay, but I liked the stifling hot reek of untold amounts of marijuana, deafening roar of music till your ears ring for hours after experience of the indoor arenas better.<br /><br />Unfortunately, I am too much of tight wad to fork over ungodly amounts of cash for a ticket to headliner concerts now a days. Perhaps someday I'll pry open my wallet and go to another concert, but it would have to be something truly spectacular.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-1143436680773044252006-03-26T22:06:00.001-07:002006-11-13T13:01:56.958-07:00Monday MondayI drove to my mom and dad's house Saturday and spent the night. All the way there, and all the way back, I sang songs from the Mama's and the Papa's Greatest Hits CD. My all time favorite M's & P's song is "Monday, Monday". I especially love the part where the music picks up in tempo and they start singin' "Every other day, every other day, every other day of the week is FINE yah. But when ever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes, you can find me cryin all of the time" I sang it over and over until I was hoarse, because I am a big dork.<br /><br />Kiri and Ken got into a hellacious fight this weekend while I was gone. I won't go into detail, but needless to say both Kiri and Ken were saying some pretty mean things to each other. I am at the end of my rope, and have seriously considered leaving Ken. Though I can sort of see his point, as Kiri is very disrespectful of him. But I expect him to act like the adult, instead of reacting like a child. That's all I am going to say at this time, but I feel like crying.<br /><br />Tomorrow is the day I am going to start exercising on a regular basis again. I have to start hiking for the season soon, and I am woefully out of shape. I have gained 10 lbs. this winter, and it is time to do something about it. I plan on walking around 3 miles/day to start, and then slowly increasing it until I top out at about 5 miles. After that, I'll throw in 5 minutes of running, then 5 minutes of walking. That is how I lost 20 lbs three years ago. It will also get me out of the house before I strangle my husband.Kodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12919368.post-1142645632041259252006-03-17T18:02:00.000-07:002006-11-13T13:01:56.516-07:00Kodi's Wild KingdomI was reading animal attack files on the internet, and started thinking about close calls I have had while hiking, recreating in the wilderness. Animal attacks fascinate me, probably because I spend so much time in remote areas, that I want to be informed so I may avoid the dangers out there as much as I can, which really is only to a certain extent. Dangerous animal encounters can be a combination of hiking and camping practices (not storing food properly, not recognizing danger signs like recent cougar kills, elk rutting season, invading an animals space or territory) as well as plain luck. Most snake bites occur because the idiot was trying to pick up the venomous snake (dur...bite me please, I like intense pain) or kill the snake. Legitimate bites (where the person was not harassing the animal) usually occur because the person was not paying attention to where he/she was placing their hands or their feet. I learned this the hard way.<br />Usually when I hike in rattlesnake habitat, I am very careful about putting my hands in places I can't see very well. I would never just reach under a log willy nilly without looking first. But one hike, I let my guard down. It had rained buckets all night and as I hit the trail, I knew it was going to be a struggle. I got into the flats of hop valley, and huge ravines had been cut across the trail from water runoff, forcing me to scramble up ridges and wallow through deep mud. I was alone, but I had my Park radio, so wasn't really worried. At one point I sank to my thighs in mud, and couldn't pull my self out. I had to take off my backpack, throw it on stable ground and practically swim out of the mud. In the process, I immersed my radio in mud and ruined it. With really no choice but to soldier on, I continued on my way.<br />At the 6 mile point, I started down some steep switchbacks into a separate canyon, and was starting to feel pretty tired from scrambling and pulling myself through mud for the last 3 hours. The rain had washed big rocks in the trail, and I would often use a tree or a boulder for balance as I navigated my way down. About halfway down the switchbacks, I put my hand on the lip of a boulder as I slid around a rock, and heard the unmistakable sound of a rattlesnake vibrating his tail. I jumped 20 feet straight in the air on instinct alone (I may be exaggerating slightly). When I calmed down I checked my hand to make sure I hadn't been bitten (I hadn't). Then I got curious and peeked under the lip of this ragged boulder to see the snake. He was still there, rattling like crazy. I had literally put my hand about a half an inch away from the snakes head.<br />I must say, in defense of the snake, he did not bite me when he easily could have, and it was my fault entirely. If I had been alert, I wouldn't have rested my hand on the lip of the boulder when I couldn't see what was underneath. I have hiked in the desert all my life, and I can truthfully say, if you are paying attention to where you are stepping, sitting, or placing your hands, and if you don't mess with snakes in general, your chances of being bitten is almost 0.<br />A funny side note, once I got to my campsite I had to throw rocks at a pesky squirrel to keep him from running up my leg and stealing the potato chips I was trying to eat. And, a mountain lion walked through my campsite that night as well, but paid absolutely no attention to me at all. He could have cared less that I was there.<br />Any one else have any close calls with wildlife?<br />P.S. I was trying to upload a picture I drew on Paint of me, the boulder, and the snake, but it wouldn't load. Stupid computerKodihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06614396690437014528noreply@blogger.com6