Sunday, December 1, 2013

Week 15

Choice #5 Because this one seemed one of the more creative and fun! I am writing this at 2:30AM at my night auditing job, finished the audit over an hour ago.. so here I am, and here I go :)

I would like to create a collage from things I find on my absolute favorite website, Pinterest. I am going to search the following keywords: Life, love, inspiration, laughter, and quotes and pick words and phrases from each.




Sometimes on the way to a dream you get lost and find a better one
Take time to do what makes your soul happy
If you don't fit in, then you're probably doing the right thing.
Everyday is a second chance.

Dreams don't work unless you do
Don't give anyone the power to ruin your day
Laughter is the fireworks of your soul
Laughter is timeless, imagination has no age, and dreams are forever.

Believe in yourself, and all that you are.
Know that there is something inside you that is greater than any obstacle
For life is about using the whole box of crayons

You're never too old to be young
Let your smile change the world
Surrender to what it is, let go of what it was
& have faith in what will be.


Saturday, November 30, 2013

Week 14 Piece #2

How to Drive on the Interstate and I295 in Maine

1st: When stuck behind a car that is nervously merging on to the interstate, look behind your left shoulder and quickly into your rear view mirror. Then: although there are those white lines on your left that tell you to keep to the right of them until they end then you can merge? If there are no cars on the right lane of the interstate, accelerate and merge left around the car in front of you and onto the interstate.

2nd: Once on the interstate, keep around 65-70. You can be 5mph over the speed limit with no problems, if you exceed to 80-90 in a 65, you may want to slow down but in some areas, do it anyway just to take a few minutes off your commute.

3rd: When you find yourself coming up on a car in front of you and you are in the right lane, get really close to them to let them know they are going too damn slow for the interstate, and pass them on the right lane and accelerate.

4th: When in the left lane and you find a car in front of you that isn't moving into the left lane. Prepare yourself for some serious tailgating until they either accelerate as well, or move to the left lane. Repeat the first step of this number until you have succeeded in moving them or possibly pass them in the right lane.

5th: When it comes to exiting and you find yourself still in the left lane, cut off the person in the right lane or flip them off if they don't move and cut behind them close to their car just to let them know that by them not moving out of your way it irritated you.

6th: Exit up the ramp. Though the speed limit says 35, there are never cops on exits anyway, to give it to ah.

Week 14 Piece #1

Getting myself caught up here as much as I can! & Week 14? Yeah, making me smack my forehead into my hand a couple of times! However I think I know where I can go with at least one of these, so here goes my #1 for week 14.



The art of people watching. It truly is an art and if done well you can figure out who to talk sarcastically to, who to be short with because they are in a rush, or who to be incredibly professional with, or to look like your extremely professional when you aren't... Anyway, here is the dynamics of true people watching and the best environments to do it in.

First is where are the best places to people watch? There are your normal park benches, malls, and so forth but the best are the front desk of a hotel, and the sidewalks of your busy Main street of your home town area. Watching people try to figure out your roads and why none of them make sense is extremely hilarious. Also, watching people look at all the neat stuff in the stores and them not realizing that they are walking into the traffic of cars is also quite interesting. It's almost like sometimes you wish one of them could get hit, not hard, just like a little tap. To make you go "Ha! Tourist."

At a hotel, you get people from everywhere: up north, down south, out west and out of the country. True people watching is an art when working at a front desk of a company and actually having to converse with these people or "sheep is something in its own." Most of the guests all say their "ooh's" and "ahh's" at the exact same things. How people carry themselves and talk with those around them can help depict how they may come talk to you. The ones with long faces and hands in their pockets, probably don't want to spend a lot of time checking into their room and knowing the area, they will just figure that out later somehow. The ones that walk in, immediately stare at everything from the floor to the ceiling are also the ones that walk into the center table with the large, very expensive vase with the flowers in it. Then they make their way to the counter to talk to you, and 10 minutes later they will give you their credit card to pay for their room.

People watching is an art when you can please even the stuffiest of people. Not everyone is easy to please and that is a fact. However when one can make those in front of them who choose not to be happy, pleased by the time they leave your presence... that's when you succeed. There are of course two types of people watching, judgmental watching and watching to learn something. Most of us don't mean to judge but it just happens anyway. "Those who judge get judged worse." So the main rules of watching is, don't get caught, and don't forget what you're doing. Always be on task and don't make the person you are watching feel like you're just creeping on them, otherwise, get good at it, it can become a very useful tool!

Week 13 Prompt 3 #62

62.For want of a nail the shoe was lost. For want of a shoethe horse was lost. For want of a horse the rider was lost. For want of a rider the battle was lost. For want of a battle the kingdom was lost. And all for the wantof a horseshoe nail.


One thing you cannot go without when trying to drive somewhere is your keys. Personally, I lock my keys in my vehicle about 8 times a year on average. In my last vehicle I did not have a keypad on the outside of my door to get in if I locked my keys. So, one day I had planned so many things to do with my best friend: Leave at 9AM to start shopping, lunch at Applebee's by 11, then get to work on time which was at 3. When walking out to my car on a early and cool November morning, I realized my keys were locked and rested on my drivers seat.

Almost like a flash before my eyes, I saw all my plans for the day wiz through my sight and gone in an instant and out of my reach. A nice fun day planned before work and I couldn't fulfill it. For the need to drive, I was lost as to where my keys were. For the want to drive, my plans were ruined. Therefore, no new clothes for work were purchased and I was late to work. All for locking my keys in my car.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Week 13 Prompt 2

"65. In the drawer is a box made of carved and joined bits of driftwood, which holds objects meaningless to anyone else but sacred, precious, unforgettable to you..."

Most people have a junk drawer or maybe several. I have one in my bedroom, as well as my family has one in the kitchen. The closest drawer to the living room and the hallways to the bedroom. Most of the things in there could be thrown away. Any guest of the house looking for a pen, would probably open the drawer, and quickly close it because it looked like useless things in there. However, to the owner of those belongings, they are much more than that.

The drawer looks as though its from the 70's; oh wait that's because it is. It also holds up a bright orange counter, also from the same time period. However in it one an find old batteries, broken pencils and pens that have no ink. Looking deeper there is an old picture of my mother and my aunt from when they were 15 and looked like twins. A baby picture of myself that was supposed to go to my grandmother but she had past away soon after. Then towards the back there lies an old screw driver. One of those that seems to be the perfect size for just about everything around the house. May sound funny but I'd be sad if we lost it.

One of the most meaningful things to me in it is one of those electronic toys that hangs from a key chain. Though the name has been quickly forgotten you are the owner of some weird named pet and you have to feed it, put it to sleep and bring it outside to use the bathroom. I don't remember what happened when you didn't play with it for a while but it was like a virtual pet. That toy and then a Polly Pocket sit right next to each other. I wondered why we kept them there, maybe so we always knew where they were. A junk drawer half full of junk, half full of amazing, old very meaningful family things. That picture of me as a baby not only is a reminder to my parents, but allows us to take a second to think about my grandmother that I barely knew. All sacred and unforgettable things.

Week 13 prompt 1

Prompt #64

"64. Dump the trash bin on the floor, pull on your rubber gloves, and start hunting for the truth that only your throwaways know."

The day was Monday and everything was going as expected. First, I locked my keys in my car. I found out by having to scrape through the frost on my window and look for my long hanging key chain with the Ford symbol on it. Next I was looking for my paycheck in the pile of my mail and of course I couldn't find it. It was 3:30 and my bank closes at 4. "Oh what fun this was going to be." I thought to myself.

I rummaged through my room, a room that was once clean looked now as though a bum went through it and it was a mess. I yelled and hollered hoping maybe my frustrations would possibly make it appear right in front of me somewhere. I opened the trash lid and a cloud of stench basically blew in my face. "Oh hell no." I then thought but I knew my mother could have possibly thrown it away by accident. I took a plastic bag from under the sink, pulled on my rubber gloves and began to hunt for that little piece of paper that was about to pay for my truck payment and a fresh set of nails from the salon.

I picked through the old cat food and found some old mail. I flipped through a the first few whispering "come on... Come ON!" and there it was, my paycheck. As I was about to give it a kiss I noticed there was that fishy smell, a piece of last nights dinner dried to the top of it. I lay it on the counter and began to clean everything up.

Now my mom is big into scratch tickets and she usually does really well. That's when I next found under my paycheck, an unscratched ticket. Extremely interested in my new finding I quickly cleaned up the trash and threw my damp and dirty gloves on the clean counter. I scratched the winning number, then I scratched my own numbers. Then unlike my normal Monday bad luck, a feeling of just striking gold came through me! I won a hundred dollars! After already being so thankful to find my paycheck, I found this ticket. I felt as though it should be my mothers but heck! I went through enough Monday-madness! I was keeping this. However, I wonder what kind of bad luck will come next Monday?

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Week 12 Prompt 2

I met the most amazing person last week.


My mind I believe sometimes I should have a name for it because I talk to myself more than I talk to my friends who just think I talk too much but I think my thoughts are great like last week when I met the most amazing peron on the side walk next to the dunkin donuts where I bought a coffee and he bought mine too on accident and asked me what my name was and where I was from and he seemed interested in me not like the other people but actually interested like he might have something in common with me like our taste in coffee or maybe it was my style of clothing or my truck I drive but either way he was handsome and this coffee was one of the best coffee's I had ever had because he bought it for me and he was nice to me he was like one of the most amazing people I have ever met because he wasn't rude and didn't slam the door on me and opened my truck door for me too and even asked if he could see me again which I of course agreed to and I agreed even with a smile because he was smiling too and he asked me if I would be back there the following day so he could buy me another coffee and great me again and talk about absolutely nothing just so he could look at me which in that moment I once again smiled and nodded and I thought to my nameless miind that I had just met such a nice boy and today I still think back that last week I met the most amazing person and I sure hope that I see him again although I think I gave him the wrong number cause I was so nervous which I can tell because my mind is going a hunded miles an hour and even my mind is listening to me talk about itself.




Is a large run on no commas no periods too risky? Yet a completely accurate symbol of how my personal brain works? How fun this was to keep it going! Actually humored myself ;D I just love being creative.

Week 12 prompt 1 ris-kay

My summer vacation....




In the midst of Summer
To work or to play
I punch my clock at dawn
just to leave at dusk

Oh Summer my Summer
Where have thou gone?

I pray for you in the cold
I long for you to stop by
and you leave too quick

Each Summer vacation feels much the same
N'er a vacation I feel
Merely a rush of work
with a much lack of play

Oh Summer my Summer
Where have thou gone?

My Summer vacation
T'was not one at all :(





TRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUE :(

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Week 11 Prompt #3

3605.
He warmed himself with a cold blanket.
http://onemillionfootnotes.blogspot.com/


"This blanket, it's colder than I am." I said as I threw it on after a long day of work. I had walked home that day. I just cleaned over at my neighbors house as she is getting very old. I thought to myself how it didn't make sense that I was cold, covering myself with something much colder than I. I was just hoping for warmth. Even through that notion, I could not take off that blanket.

This blanket is cold, like the one who previously had it. We broke up many months ago, he told me he was leaving me for someone else. I couldn't believe it, I wanted to know who. Though he would never tell me, he left before I could say even good bye or maybe f*** you. He left his blanket and I didn't want it. After walking in 40 degree weather I will take what I can get. I can't help but think how it so much represents him. It's thin, like it's got nothing to it. It's surface looks cozy and warm but inside and to the touch there's nothing. Like him, there was nothing to him, blank looks and unforgiving way of talking to me. I needed to let go of this blanket, it was all that was left of him and I needed to let go of them both.


I feel like I could add more to this, how this blanket seriously so in depth represents an ex boyfriend. This is actually true to too.

Week 11 Prompt #2

Sometimes humans are defined as tool-using animals. Tools can say a lot. What if the tool is the one using the human?

A tool such as a hammer or screw driver; has a job. To either pound in a nail, or something like it, or to take a screw out of something. A tool cannot do this without the helping hands of a human. Now since a human needs the tool to say drive the nail in the board that will soon become their home. That makes the human need the tool more than the tool needs the human. If you look at it in the sense that, the human is building the home and needing the tool, to fulfill the tools needs and job.

The tool lies on the work bench hours on end. Sun up and sun down, possibly not being moved from its grease stained spot for days. It needs to be worked, it senses it's need for use and is waiting for the warm hand to make use of it's powers. To have dings and scratches, to have grease and dirt; is what the tool strives for. To be used not to lay alone. To be hung with pride on the wall of a mans garage; as a trophy. We may sit there showing nothing but we say more than you think as we rest on your benches.

A tool with dings and scratches says a lot. A ding on a hammer shows severe use. It shows that maybe it was one of the main tools needed to build the garage it now rests in. Now a days a nail gun is used to build a home and it too needs the home or garage to get its power so it too can come alive and be used. Human's may be number 1 but now a human can't do hardly anything without the use of a tool. Unlike barbaric men, they used anything they could find and made something into a tool. We are a family. Whether we are a stick made sharp, or whether we are made from a factory; we are all family. A tool, can say more than you think.





This one... Not easy but I took a swing at it??

Prompt #1 from 52-55 On Week 11

From Uncle Henry's
Ad URL: http://www.unclehenrys.com/classified/4222708/classified?back=%2Fsearch%2FTrucks%3Fsr%3D1295211%234222708

The Ad: Category: Trucks: Medium & Heavy Duty
For Sale
Price: 1800.0
Location: Holden, ME
Phone: 207-299-5170
Up for sale is the old Gilbert Construction mud truck. Comes with lots of parts. Call Chris more information. Serious mudders only please.

(I'm writing as if it were me putting this truck up for sale, putting myself in perspective of how this buyer could be.)

Thumbing through last weeks Henry's I'm lookin' at all these rigs people put up for sale. Complete mud trucks anywhere from $3,000-$20,000.
I sit here in awe how one could afford all the parts once they break 'em. I was telling a friend on Facebook how I recently put an ad up for my own mud truck.
Used it to mud for Gilbert Contruction, got a lot of use out of it. When I got laid off from the mill though I just couldn't afford to fix it this last time. Been sitting
in the backyard for some time now. It holds a lot of value to me but I just can't keep it. My son depends on me and I have to provide for him. I just
rebuilt the tranny and boy didn't that cost me penny. I'm selling it with a bunch of parts, that's what I put in my ad. I didn't say any of them were good parts
but they're parts.

I almost hope that no body calls me for it. I listed it for a pretty reasonable price. Someone with a pocket full of money could easily restore it but I
almost rather keep it sitting in my back yard. Maybe someday my boy could have it as his own and rebuild it himself. Something with that much value I'd
hate to lose. The second someone calls though I can't go actin' all sentimental though. I need to be tough and save up my money. Hoping one day as I'm
thumbing through the Henry's again I can lay my thumb on another truck and just go buy it. When I don't have all these money problems that is. I just gotta tell
the people callin' that I'm selling it 'cause I just don't have the time anymore. That's what I'll do, tell em that lie.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Week 10 Theme

Ever since I was 5 I have been going down to Albany, New Hampshire and staying at a campround for an event called Bike Week which is held in Laconia every year. I have become very close to a few people my own age over the years from towns that are close to Albany. There is one guy out of the semi-large group of friends that particularly fits my fancy. The attraction was always there, but I would hide it, never expecting anything could ever become of my interest in him. It had been over 2 years since I had last laid my eyes on him, which only meant one thing, I had to see him.

We would text none stop for weeks, then a few weeks would pass where we'd lose touch, no matter what he always held a spot in my heart. It has been like a fantasy; wanting what you just can't have. I decided however that it had been long enough, I just wanted to see him, wanted to hear his voice in person. It wasn't ever love it was just lust, pure heart throbbing, day dreaming lust and I had to get my fill. I drove over two hours and thirty minutes to see him and a few of my other close friends from the area. I drove down not having a clue where I was going to stay but I didn't care, I was excited and loved it even more that I had no plan.

I drove through Brunswick, busy Portland and took exit 11 which only meant one thing, route 302 was going to get me straight to where I needed to go. As I crossed into New Hampshire, and headed on route 16 to North Conway my heart just started to beat even faster. My destination was going to be at one of my girl friends house and 'he' was already there.

I pulled in and unhooked my phone from its charger. I had forgotten to shut off my phone so it was continuing to tell me I had arrived at my destination. I opened up the door adn everyone in the room turned and looked. My eyes initially went to my girl friends and she ran over to give me the biggest hug. As soon as she let go 'he' quickly grabbed a hold of me. I don't know why I had the feelings I did but hugging him that night was one of the greatest feelings, I knew it was going to be such a great night. We sat next to eachother at the table, and played beer pong together; we were the champions that night. Drinks of spiced rum and chilled vodka kept coming but it was so worth it. The hours kept flying by and before I knew it it was already 2am. The party was dying down but we were wide awake. By that time we found our way to the back yard. A few conked out partiers were rested around the fire place. There were two broken plastic lawn chairs tipped over. We looked around for a dry place to sit. Somewhere that wasn't covered with beer or wet from rain.

As we sat and talked for hours, I felt his warm arm come around me. I didn't know how to feel because I knew we were only friends. I wanted it to be more, but knew that could just never happen. Living so far away, he was never going to move to Maine and I would just never be able to move there. I wanted to bring it up, but it was like he knew I was going to so he kissed me instead. I figured that was my answer and I'd take tonight to have fun and enjoy where I was. Nights such as this don't happen nearly enough and I knew, him and I could stretch this bond for as long as we could. Young and alive, and that's all I felt that night. Daylight soon came upon us and neither of us slept. "I'll sleep when I'm dead." I said, "tonight I'm yours." He replied.

Week 10 prompt 3

You write a story which ends with the words, "...and then I woke up and it was only a dream." And then you wake up.



I was in the jungle, fighting for my life. It was cold and dark, night had just consumed me. I remembered having my best friend with me, I could picture her beside me but she wasn't there, where did she go? I had hoped she had gone for help but I couldn't lay here hoping it was coming, I had to find it.

I found a sac resting next to my foot; dirty and wet from the afternoon's rain. I ransacked through it and was lucky enough to find a few dry matches, a small flashlight and a half eaten granola bar; I had wondered if it were mine. As I turned on the tiny light I began to look at my surroundings. I also tried to listen for any voices or maybe a car. I didn't know where I was or where the closest road was to me. I took a deep breath and told myself I couldn't get scared, thats when bad things happen.

As I walked forward I felt as though I was heading deeper into the jungle. The trees and bushes grew thicker and the wind settled. I was hoping that the lusterous bushes meant water so I carried forward. It was starting to get cold but I didn't want to set up shack yet. As I came closer to what looked like a stream I stumbled and fell over something. That something made a loud yelp and groan noise and punched me in the leg; it was Macy, my best friend! I couldn't have been more happy. She jumped at the sight of me and gave me the biggest hug. I of course asked her why she had left me. She said she was in search for help and didn't realize she had gotten herself lost.

As we continued to walk we came upon a stream, with running water and what looked like a comfortable place to set up a place to sleep and start a fire. Just as we began to look for wood we heard a loud roar and the leaves rustling fast, with no time to move or take cover a pack of wolves came running at us, and just as I closed my eyes in fear I woke up and it was all a dream.

Week 10 prompt 2

"You said...but, but, how was I supposed to know you meant--"




Fall 2011, Freshman year and the start of my first college basketball career, it was game 1 and I couldn't have been more nervous or excited to play Northern Maine Community College. My basketball coach was an interesting character, I'll keep him named as "Coach." What he saw on the court wasn't always what we would see as players, being right there in the moment its hard to always make the right choice. That's why communication is the biggest key factor in most sports. Not only communication, but doing it in an effective way so that everyone knows exactly what you mean. I remember this game so clearly...

Another player on my team, I'll name her as Sarah to protect a fellow team mate. 10 seconds were left in this game and I was sitting on the bench due to rolling my ankle just minutes before. The game was tied at 58-58, and NMCC had the ball. Coach told Sarah in these words; "Sarah I need you to guard that ball and don't let it in bounds." Simple as that. I believe it was too simply put that Sarah didn't understand the severity of the situation, the game was really on the line now.

The ball is in play now and the NMCC forward is trying to pass the ball into the guard, as Sarah is watching the guard like a hawk, she forgets to see where the ball is. Crucial factor in the game #2, always knowing where the ball is at all times. The forward throws the ball to mid-court and the guard pushes back off Dani and catches up to the ball. The ball made it in bounds....

"You said...but, but, how was I supposed to know you meant." Sarah exclaimed.

I remember coach saying something like. "Sarah you were guarding the guard and weren't watching the ball! You gotta listen!" He'd said. This was after the game was over and we lost by one point due to a foul given at the other end of the court. Coach and Sarah sat down after that game and discussed communication, Sarah should have asked coach if he wanted her on the ball, or on the guard, next time, they new that asking one simple question, could have been that games resolution. "We'll get em next time." He said.

Week ten prompt

The pin pricks my skin, I feel nothing...

Fall of 2010 my best guy friend and I took our wheelers down to the Warren Pits. The pits are where everyone gathers on weekends to shoot guns and take their trucks through the mud. Him and I were the only ones that really messed with ATV's, no one else could either afford them, or just didn't have one. I unloaded mine first, I couldn't find my ramps that morning so I just found a hill to back up close to and unloaded that way. I was immediately so excited to get riding, it had been months.

As our other friends pulled up in their trucks, I saw a few other people around unloading their wheelers too, two of them were side by sides. I didn't know who they were though so I just waved and kept riding. I didn't always trust other riders in the pits because there are a lot of blind spots, people come out from no where. You just always have to be on the look out for other riders, I always think to myself that I trust me, but I don't trust them. I don't trust other riders to be as cautious as me, they all just want to show off. As I feel the mud cling to my skin, I head straight for another mud hole. I gave my 800cc wheeler some throttle and at the same moment, everything I saw in front of me was a blur, I was tossed from my wheeler as I felt a crushing blow to my left leg.  Moments before I was driving, and now I'm lying on the cold hard dirt of the Warren Pits.

As my friends and people I didn't know were screaming, I could barley hear them, everything was so faint and I could barely make out the clouds above. I felt nothing, no pain. I was lifted up so I could sit and try and talk. I looked down to see blood coming from my pants. A pin could have pricked me and I wouldn't have felt it. I believe I was just in shock, as they let go of my back, I fell back to the ground and conked back out...

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Week EIGHT prompts (mixed 8 and 9 up!! )

Week 8 prompts I mixed up week 8 and week 9s, after tonight and tomorrow morning; I think I should be caught up! :D YAY!

#1 Down in the boondocks

The boondocks: Rough, remote or isolated, a definition from Google. I take the term boondocks as mostly being isolated and remote which is also how I like to categorize a lot of Mid-coast Maine. Some parts of it like Rockland and Camden, they don't count. Talking about Union, Appleton, all the way up to Cushing. This area can be so quiet, woodsy, and unbelievably peaceful. Its the kind of place you could live and be bored, but just not care because there's enough space not too many people really bother you. Depends on what one likes, but for the writer here, peaceful, remote and no one bugging the heck outta me, that's a place I call heaven.

The boondocks sounds like something real country and redneck, and sure it can be that. You don't have to call it the boonies. We just like calling it that. The boonies is when we say "Jesus, you want me to drive way out to the damn boonies just for some ass?" Now that's just using that as an example, keep some humor in 'ya know? The boonies though, is a place you can lay as many burn outs as one would like. Burn as many tires as one likes, and throw beer cans wherever. Though all 3 of those are bad for the environment. The boondocks seems to be an acceptable place. Though many will not agree with that statement. Those who do all those things, know its illegal but yell out YOLO! (You only live once.) While they're doing it.

So who lives in the boondocks one could ask? There are three types of people that live here. Lets start with the ones that have 3 teeth, shirts with swear words, and nicer trucks than their houses. These are nice people now, don't think they aren't. Their morals are just different than most. They're badass, or so they like to think and they like to show off by their lifted trucks, 35 inch tires and Flowmaster exhausts. It's just the way life is for them. They're couch is probably in their garage covered in oil and grease, this is where they sleep when the beer kicks in. They think one way and it's the right way. You might find a few PBR beer boxes laying around too, that's how they start their back yard bonfires by the way.

The next type of people that live in the boonies are those who have big houses, nice lifted trucks with lift kits and exhausts, mostly Chevrolet owners. A few Ford's on some of the streets, but not many. These people are definitely lobsterman, and they are probably a lot tougher than you and can out haul anyone that tries to outhaul them. Their mentality is only one way, and like the first type... It's the only way! Most are settled down with a woman or ball and chain. Love Maine, hate the city. They park their four-wheelers on tree stumps, and leave 97.1 the Bear country station on low 24/7. That or 105.1 "The mountain of pure rock." Their afternoons consist of stopping by the store for at least a 12 back of beer, working on something in the garage, then maybe a date with their women to Walmart or "Pizza Slut."

The third type of person that lives in the boondocks of the Mid-Coast of Maine are older people. These people either have a heart of gold, always want to help you out, or are just rude old people waiting to die. Either way, their yards are always clean and they all have brand new double-wide trailers with those really bright electronic numbers by their front door that say what P.O. Box they are. They also all drive Buicks or Ford Rangers.

The boondocks sometimes will have a few American Eagle wearin' stragglers, but its mostly people that wear Grundens and Carhartt and those who have one way of thinking. They like things to be quiet and just be able to do their own thing without really anyone bothering them. What's interesting here is, is that the town officers pretty much know everybody by name. This can be a good thing if you just speed and don't do anything too bad. This can mean the officer just tells you to "slow the hell down bud!" Or it means the officer is going to say, "if I catch you having a party down here again you're getting a summons." They only seem to give summons out to the kids that are 16 trying to act 21. They let the kids who are 19 and 20 go because they are "almost 21, so we will call it good."

Down in the boondocks, the living is pretty much how ever you want it to be. If you have a problem with your neighbor, you win if you have a bigger caliber gun, or if you at least have a shot gun. Maine; Its the Way life should be. The Boonies: "It is how we say it is"

Week 9 Prompt 3

"You never know what you have until it is gone..."

May 10th, 2013. Rebecca and I's last day of hanging out and we didn't even know it. Becca was set to move back to Calais on the 11th. We spent the whole day in sweat pants, watching our favorite show; Prison Break. We were star struck by the lead role; Michael Wentworth. He is one of the most attractive men known to earth. I remember this day because it was also the day we found out Michael is gay. Not that we have ANY problems with homosexuals, it was just a bummer. Even though we of course would never be able to get 10 feet from him. Which is something we laughed about as well.

Rebecca has been in my life the last two years. We played on the same college team for one year and lived together for 3 months. 3 months in which we fought and fought and fought! I can't tell you how many times we freaked out at each other. Even on the court it affected us. I always felt like she was looking at me with a dirty look. We hated that phrase, "it's so high school," we would say. On May 10th, we talked about everything that made us fight when we lived together. Talked about how stupid we were. It was 2012 when we fought, and it only took one Summer of being separated for us to realize how much we needed one another and especially how alike we were. That's what made us butt heads, but once we realized all that, that was what brought us even closer starting Fall 2012 going into Winter-Spring 2013.

When I think back on our friendship, I see how much Rebecca has grown. Our first year of college was 2011-2012, the year we met. She was a constant party girl, looking for a late night hook up with a cute boy. However by 2nd semester of our first year, her and I decided to live on Campus in a dorm room to make it better for playing sports. This is when our relationship got a little rocky, but that's how it goes when you live in a VERY confined room. When Summer of 2012 hit, and we got some time apart, we were able to forget all of the things that made us mad about one another and allowed our 2012-2013 school year be a hit. We had separate apartments and hung out all the time with no issues. It was easily my best year out of my 2.5 that I have spent at Eastern Maine. May 10, 2013, the Month we got out of school, our leases ran out, and it was time to start our Summer jobs back in our home towns. We reminisced about all the good times and honestly fought back a few tears. That's when we would hit each other and say "don't be such a little bitch!" We had that sort of relationship.

Now, it's October of 2013 and I have not seen Rebecca ONCE since that date. You really never know what you have until it's gone. I had a friend I could do anything with, say anything to, and I really trusted and adored her. I feel like it is a friendship I will forever miss. over 3 hours is a long drive. We stay in contact as much as possible through social media. I don't really know how she is doing, or where she is working. Facebook however shows that she's at least happy. That's all I can truly hope.

Week 9 Prompt #2

"There is not enough time in a day" Yet: "I came I saw I conquered.

From prompt and choosing from the list of things about me given!

When 3 o'clock hits, it's almost without fail that I tell myself that there is simply not enough time in a day! I already worked one job, have to go to the next job at the other resort until 11 and I have homework due for John Goldfine's class! I am behind in that class and behind in Leslie gillis' class. However, I believe I can still finish this weeks homework if I try and do it at work!

I clocked into work today at 3 at the Samoset and am immediately bombarded with check in's and guest requests. I just hope that it quiets down so I can sneak in some homework. With two jobs I always find it so hard. I generally work every day, I had Thursday off yet spent it at a dealership trying to figure out what was wrong with my car. Even then I told myself: "Damn, there is not enough time in a day." When I had planned on it being an entire day for homework. I didn't start any schoolwork that day until 7pm.

I find myself at work, 5:49p.m. Saturday night. Working at the Samoset, only 21 more check ins and I am finding myself halfway through this weeks homework. I'm getting there! Tomorrow is Sunday which means I can do homework then too and still be on time. "I came, I saw I conquered." I always try and find ways to do everything, and get most things done on time. It is always a good feeling at the day knowing, I may have cut it close; but I was able to fit just about everything in. I found a quote on pinterest today it went something like this: "Success is when you go to sleep at night with your soul at peace."

Friday, October 18, 2013

Redone-- Into paragraphing! Week of character!

When I think of theme being character it sort of opens up my brain to what theme really means. Theme is just a continuing thought or subject throughout a piece of work. Character doesn't just mean a peron, it means, how they are, who they are and what significance they have on me. Reading another blog gave me inspiration. My boyfriend Caleb is the most loving, amazing, handsome redneck country boy I could have found. I use the term "kind-eyes" so often, but it's very true with him. When he is looking off somewhere else I catch myself starring. If I were to really look at him, I notice first those double-knee Carhartt jeans. His Chippiwa work boots and his favorite blue Carhartt sweatshirt.

He is a person that honestly has so much "character." Isn't boring, just always comes with so much... life! When he comes around me he tries to wear the stuff with as little stains as possible. This shows character. It shows: "I wear what I like to wear, but I'm not sloppy." Also "I wear comfortable clothing, but still care what people think." I like this about him, one of the best characteristics is NOT caring about what others think. He's also a genius under the hood of ANYTHING with a motor. His hands show a days work and he doesn't care who sees that. Apologizes for the grease but I think it shows life. It shows hardwork and that he's just a real down to earth person. Trying not to be too cheesy here... He's so funny when he talks about people pissing him off. How "they'll regret it." In my head I say "HA yeah O.K." Because I know he's all talk. Its emotion though, I love when he shows it. Emotion just shows that everyone is touchable, everyone bleeds. We all feel emotion and no one should be afraid to show it.

The best thing is that he isn't awkward! Being awkward and shy is just a sign of not being comfortable with yourself. When people have this, it really effects how people view them. He always has something to talk about no matter who it is. He finds something in everyone that he can relate to and he runs with it, he isn't afraid to learn something about someone and that's important. Caleb is a kind, hardworking social butterfly. Though that doesn't put the bread on the table, he knows when its time to work. Although I have to ignore half his texts so he does get work done he still knows his place. He always shows that he's thinking of me and I couldn't ask for more.

To have someone in your life like that I think is important. Someone you feel that strongly about. A person I do believe is one of the most interesting speciman and topics there is. Everyone is different. I could have written 3 pages on the girl in my Literature class who never says a word; yet through her eyes shows that she understands everything. I always want her to speak to catch her insight, however she never does. To capture someone in their true form is a great thing, I have been fortunate to catch Caleb that way. Always being himself, goofy, fun loving, yet sometimes annoying, but I couldn't live with out him.

Monday, October 14, 2013

Week 7 prompt

Who's the first person you remember? Without thinking too hard about this question, the first person I remember is Ms. Taylor. My kindergarden teacher. I mean; she is where it all started for me. She got me going, got me into first grade and heck, she taught me how to read. She was one of the kindest people, and for my first time going to school I couldn't have asked for a better teacher.

Ms. Taylor was never married, she lived with her daughter and took school very seriously. It was her passion and she has always been so good at it. She used colors, and very smart techniques to get us to do things we didn't want to do. I remember one day the fire alarm went off, earlier that morning she had somehow incorportated foreshadow into a lesson. Foreshadowing is something you learn in grade school and she taught us in kindergarden. She did a lesson with fire trucks and escape routes. Though I don't remember the exact lesson, those parts still stick. When the alarm went off I heard a kid yell "Ms. Taylor! You knew that was gonna happen didn't you!" Then she taught us a no vocabulary word. She was sneaky. Always so nice and no matter how much glue I got in my hair, she figured out ways of teaching me right from wreong. I will always remember her name.

Week 7 prompt

Who is the last person you want to remember?

When I think of this prompt, I think about this as in a sense of me being 2 minutes from death, thinking about everyone. Now this person could change from now til when I do pass. For me it would be a man named Skip, or Donald Rogers. To describe him in a way that he deserves would be hard. He passed away in a motorcycle accident, about 12 hours after the accident occurred. One of the worst days of my life.

Being a young child, this old guy would always come up to me, rub his knuckle in my head and say 'whose this knuckle head comin' around?' I would always look up, cheeks blushing and do a fake little laugh because I was so shy. Growing up I got out of it a little, he would still call me the same name but around 12 years old he adopted a new one, or I should say I did. "Corn beef hashley," because my name is Ashley. That was my favorite one cause who the heck else would think of that?

I remember the day he showed me all his tattoos. Not remembering half of them however; one always stuck. That house fly he had on his ankle. Yes, a damn house fly. Skip went to every motorcyle event and bar from here to California. He said it was a drunken night in Vegas when he was in his 30's, and I believe it. Even in his 60's he was a crazy bastard. He drove a 124 S&S Harley Davidson with NOS. I don't think he got the chance to use it, just the fact that it was there. He was always someone I looked up to and wanted to be just like. He was such a badass, yet really intelligent and so down to Earth. I always said he could have his own show due to his great characteristics. Though he has passed away, his memory will forever linger. He will quite possibly be one of the last people I think about before my last breath, or my last day.

Week 7 Character Prompt

Take a look at a photo of a person. What do you see?

A 7 minute jog down the road brings me to my great uncle Sonnys house. A 67 year old man and his 66 year old wife live here. He paid 16,000 for the house many years ago, now its a house worth tens of thousands more. Inside you can tell its a home full of love. Old and new family pictures hang on literally every wall in here yet without cluttering.

One photo always strikes my interest everytime. It is a black and white photo of my great uncle Sonny when he was jusr 19 years old in the military. He was a marine, fought in many major wars and basically, its a grade A badass. The picture is of a man wearing a service uniform, its green, even though you can't tell in this photo, he always told me. It was an A uniform, or alpha, the garrison cap. He said some people call them piss cutters, I asked why and he just shook his head. I looked it up and it brought me to wikipedia... I questioned his words. Behind him was just a tarp, he was standing there with a rifle, barrel to the sky. His lips looked like they barely had a crease. Photo quality of course not that great but this picture said so much to me. It was like a completely different man. A man who had one goal, to fight, to protect.

He had very broad shoulders in the photo, sharp looking ears even, and his legs perfectly straight together. In the dirt below his feet I could see a few stones but he was really the only thing in this photo. He looked mean to me, but then again his uniform made him just seem so different. I look up from him and see kind eyes and a welcoming smile. Those broad shoulders still linger, only now covered with tattoos. In this photo, I see my great uncle Sonny.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

week 6 prompt 3

You haven't been there in a while, now you go back....

At a young age, our minds use imagination in such a way we can make a place feel so magical. Sometimes growing up the magic leaves us and is once special place, is no longer so special. A place called Beddington, Maine has always been one of my family's top camping destinations. My face would light up as my father drove up route 9 up one hill and down the next. The route seemed so long with nothing but trees to look at.

The last time we went there it wasn't like it used to be. Arriving there things seemed gray. Not just the cloudy weather but it was literally like the place had lost its spark. Where we park our camper is actually behind the ONLY store on route 9 for miles. Full camper hookups and immediate access to ATV trails. When younger I think what made it special was the thrill of running up to the store to buy candy. Driving around the dirt path around the store on the wheeler.

The diner that is located on the back section of the store, always has had the best breakfast. That will forever hold a special place in my heart. The 60s style stools and booths, despite the people that work there who are incredibly dry, its a great place.

Now those same trails are old to me, I could ride them in my sleep. The trails further up the path however; bend and curve around streams, rivers and trees. Its beautiful. Rabit and deer encounters are very normal. That's the part that thankfully hasn't changed. I'm not sure that I'll go back again, not for a while. I don't want to lose any last magical feeling I have left for Beddington.

week 6 prompt 2

When you finally arrived... it was like nothing you imagined. When she finally arrived to her new job after 7 hours of travel, Allison realized that she had forgotten her schedule that informed her of which floor to be on. With her new job starting on the wrong foot she took a look around. She was in one of the largest buildings in New York City. She was amazed because her interview took place in a small office on the out skirts of the city. They called her in on her top notch marketing skills but she wasn't aware of how large a job opportunity she had accepted. The inside of the building g was full of granite floors,tall ceilings. She caught herself trying to figure out just how tall they were. The ceiling was unique. Combined with a victorian /English style feel it truly amazed her. She looked down at her outfit hoping she looked like she belonged. She looked up at a few younger woman, shipping their coffee outside an elevator door. Now they looked professional. She sucked up her nervous feeling, brushed her business jacket straight and proceeded toward the granite top desk to ask for directions... Now I know this assignment is a prompt, a spring board on place. I wanted to do personal experience on place and a story created on place.

week 6 prompt rewrite #1

The safest place Most of us when we are young teens can't wait to move out of the house. At a young age we start thinking about what it would be like to live on our own. Lots of us would rather live rent free forever. Home cooked meals every night and a solid home schedule gives a great sense of security. My parents home gives me that.


I have moved out twice do to school and an apartment opportunity opening up. I lived on my own for a solid year and I did really well. Money wasn't an issue or anything, it was just very different. Snow storms, feeling sick, power outages; I always feel better being with my parents. It's a natural feeling since it was that way for 18 years. Home is the safest place in the world... Home is where the two people are that raised me, fed, me and clothed me. Being away I found myself going back and visiting often. They never babied me they always had me do things on my own and learn from my mistakes. My parents are the safest place for me, where ever they are. It was still okay for me to move out because I knew 'home' would always be there when I got back. Yet on certain days I'd wish I were home more than others.

I remember having a double ear infection and then a sinus infection. I was home and bawling my eyes out because I was so sick. I ended up spending 7 hours in the emergency room by myself at EMMC. I needed an IV and direct pain medication it was so bad. They didn't even have me wait they immediately put me in a room when I arrived. Times like this I didn't think it would have gotten that bad if I was home and my mom was there. I wouldn't have been so dehydrated. Home is where the heart is, I will always believe that.

Hopefully someday my boyfriend and I will have our own place and that will be home. I think for all of eternity though, home will also be where my parents are.They have done so much for me that I will forever so thankful.I have learned not to take home or my parents for granted. To accept that I will always be a little girl at heart and appreciate home. The safest place in the world.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Week 6 prompt: The safest place in the world.... #1 out of 3

Most of us when we are young teens can't wait to move out of the house. Have your own place and not live with your parents. I have moved out twice due to school and an apartment opportunity opening up. I lived on my own for a solid year and I did really good, money wasn't an issue or anything, it was just very different. Snow storms, feeling sick, power outages; I always feel better being with my parents. It's a natural feeling since it was that way for 18 years. Home is the safest place in the world... Home is where the two people are that raised me, fed, me and clothed me. They never babied me they always had me do things on my own and learn from my mistakes. That's why I don't think it was hard to move out. Yet on certain days I'd wish I were home. I remember having a double ear infection and then a sinus infection. I was home and bawling my eyes out because I was so sick. I ended up spending 7 hours in the emergency room by myself at EMMC. I needed an IV and direct pain medication it was so bad. They didn't even have me wait they immediately put me in a room when I arrived. Times like this I didn't think it would have gotten that bad if I was home and my mom was there. I wouldn't have been so dehydrated. Home is where the heart is, I will always believe that. Hopefully someday my boyfriend and I will have our own place and that will be home. I think for all of eternity though, home will also be where my parents are. They have done so much for me that I will forever so thankful. A few weeks ago during that crazy micro burst storm I was stuck at work. Scared beyond scared, where did I want to be? Home with my parents of course. I ended up having to sleep at work and didn't get any sleep because it just wasn't home. I have learned not to take home or my parents for granted. To accept that I will always be a little girl at heart and appreciate home. The safest place in the world.

Week 6: Place

Albany, New Hampshire June 1994 was the first time my family ever brought me. Of course I was a year and one month old so this place wasn't special to me yet. Pine Knoll Campground is about 10 minutes outside of North Conway and its just your regular campground. At around 5 years old, maybe 6; is when I felt it. This place became some magical place where I'd meet random kids my age and have the best week of my life. We would go every year in June for Laconia Bike Week for a full 7 days. This yearly thing just became something I could always look forward to. It's my special place to go where I feel nothing but relaxation, happiness and solitude.

As I grew up and got a cellphone in 7th grade so did my other friends I had met throughout the years from New Hampshire. We were all able to stay connected throughout the months were were apart and for years to come. Now being 20 it's crazy to think I have been going there for literally 20 years. Nothing major has changed there and I guess that's what I love, I want to have ONE thing in life that remains the same. Now I'm old enough I go there whenever I want to, I even had a boyfriend from there when I was 18 and traveled there about 6 times that Summer.

Every time I drive there and I am crossing over the New Hampshire line I am like a kid in a candy shop. I went this last June for a weekend and brought my best friend, we had a sun filled, motorcycle, beer drinking hell of a time. What makes this place so special to me I'll begin to explain by route of the map, from the entrance of the campground, looping around all the campsites, and out the exit. I can picture every detail like I'm there right now: The entrance of the campground is on the inside of a wide bend on route 16 in Albany. It had always made me nervous for on coming traffic or speeding bikers. The sign is big and yellow, my face lights up as I make the turn. On the right as I turn in is the house where Dan and Tina the owners live and the barn where on special weekends would be barn parties. I was never old enough to party with them but even being younger it was fun, it was special.

As I drive up the hill up to the check in building I walk in and see a older lady. The nicest of women you could ever meet. She has every possible kind of candy in this store! My favorite when I was younger was those candy cigarettes. Buying them I felt awesome, like I was really buying real ones. My cousin Jessica and I used to walk down to the beach and sit by the ducks pretending to smoke them. Crazy kids. After the check in window which is at the top of a hill; you drive down a very steep hill which they finally changed in 2012. Dangerous for people walking at night, "drunkies" used to cruise around their golf carts and race down the hill with no head lights. They recently changed the campground rules to: "NO GOLF CARTS!" At the bottom of the hill is the beach, Lake Iona rests here and calmly touches the shore. It's small enough that it's really pond but Iona pond doesn't sound good... This lake is unbelievably pretty.

There are mountains beyond the horizon of trees you can see and only one large house on the other side so its mostly woods you see, especially during the day you barely see the house. It's quiet here, perfect for a boat ride to fish. The beach it self is always so sandy. They bring in new sand every year or every other year, it always feels so good between my toes. After the bend is where I get that butterfly exciting feeling. This is where the actual campground is. The little road opens up wide into a large field, a bunch of tent sites, a couple rows of camper sites. The baseball field is always groomed perfectly. The bathroom building rested kind of in the middle. That place literally has not changed in 20 years. I usually go there first after the 3 hour drive. The wooden doors are always written on with names, dates, hearts and love letters. This past June I went and saw "Ashley was here." My aunt signed her name next to mine. Some of the doors where painted over but not that one. I think its because Dan and Tina know we always come back and would get a kick out of it still being there. It was about 13 years ago we wrote our names on it. Now that's a good feeling. Bringing back memories like that. Pine Knoll has nothing but good memories for me.

Behind the bathroom is a row of about 7 large trees. During bike week my dad and his "crew" would take up all the sites on the front and back side of the trees. We were literally in the middle of the whole campground, central party zone. Even at 10 years old I'd love sitting around a fire with all them and my friends, roasting marshmallows and smoking candy cigarettes. In the morning my friends and I would usually take walks around the little roads around PKC. (Pine Knoll Campground for short.) We would start by going over the bridge next to the Musto's campsite. They are from Massachusetts and have a seasonal campsite, which always made me jealous. They became very close with my parents and still stay in contact today. --- Crossing over the bridge is another circle of campers rested under trees with decorative camping lights and fire pits still smoking from the night before. In the morning all you smell is fires, burning rubber and motorcycles. If you can't tell by my personality already, I love all those smells. The roads here are big enough for one vehicle at a time, barely a camper so I don't think half of those campers are ever getting out of there.

Coming up on the 2nd little bridge, about 12 feet long a quiet clear stream runs below it. Someone has a little fairy garden around one of the bends of the stream. She never changes it either, but always has it looking nice. This part of the campground is one of my favorites, it feels like a tiny little village of campers and some of the sites have built little buildings off of their campers almost looking like tiny houses every where. All the sites are pretty well kept and everyone SO friendly; always waving and saying how old I've gotten. I smile and wave back. As we loop back around to the end of the road it comes back out by the entrance of PKC. Facing the field again I see my camper on the far side. We walk up the right side of the field and I'd sometimes yell "I'll race ya!" And my cousins and I would race back up to our sites for breakfast with the parents before they went out for the day on the motorcycles and left us with our older cousin Amanda. I'd sit half the time facing the ball field, starring up at the big Oak trees gazing at the hopefully blue skies. When they were blue, the air was fresh and I could take a deep breath and feel such solitude. I didn't care if I sat there all day not doing much. I was in my place, my favorite place in the world.

The exit of PKC was just as steep as the entrance. If you go left you'll head back on 16 towards Laconia where bike week is held, or right, towards North Conway on the same route. From Conway to Ossippee I know my way, I know every road for miles around there. 20 years will do that. PKC could do a lot of things to make money and make cosmetic changes that most campgrounds do now a days. I hope they keep it though. Dan and Tina keep that place feeling like home away from home. It's clean, friendly and welcoming. I'll be bringing my family there some day and hope to god I have my own seasonal site so I can go whenever I want. 3 hours to solitude and out of Maine? I'll take it. I think I'll be planning a fall vacation there soon.

what have i missed?

I just noticed I miss titled my narrative with week 4 not 5. I thought I did week 4? I'm pretty sure I'm behind on something I had a busy week so I'm just now able to catch up before going into work today! Starting on week 6.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Narrative Week 4

A Learning Experience:

Since I was a baby I have been riding on anything with a motor. My dad has always called me his little spitting image hell raiser. 4 months old and he had me in his arms riding his 2-stroke four-wheeler around the dooryard. Of course at that age I didn’t know anything. As I got older though all I wanted to do was ride on them. When I got my first ATV to call my own my dad didn’t even lecture me, he showed me what was what and to be careful ‘they’re dangerous.’ He’d say. He always wanted me to be the type to learn from my mistakes and grow. Of course this didn’t mean he’d let me drive off doing a hundred, he secretly adjusted the governor on the little 90cc wheeler he bought me so it couldn’t go over 25mph.

At 17 I was able to move up in the ATV world and dad passed down his Can-Am Outlander 800cc wheeler. This thing has an HMF exhaust to make it wicked loud and a chip to make it wicked fast. It’s something I hold close to me, something I am very proud of. At this point in my life I was even more of a spitting image of my father, I drove like him, drove like a bat out of hell, power turns, donuts, getting stuck in mud holes you name it.

One day I decided to take out his Can-Am Commander, which is a side by side, sort of like a high-powered golf cart, which can reach up to 75mph. I wanted to take it out riding with my friends up a mountain that afternoon because someone needed something to ride and it had an extra seat. While waiting for my friends to get to my house I called my dad to see if it was alright for me to take that for the day instead of the 800. I remember his words like it was yesterday. “Just please be careful, you’re not used to driving with a steering wheel so don’t go showing off cause the ass end can whip around some quick and you’ll be in the bushes.” I told him I understood and I could keep in touch all day.

While waiting for my friends I took the commander for a little ride around the yard and through the trails we had made. My dad was right, I’m not used to driving an ATV that has a steering wheel, and this one didn’t have power steering so you really had to man handle it. At high speeds the Commander can get a little wobbly especially if you aren’t used to it. As I came up the trail on the left side of my house I sped up behind to the back field and remember catching a little air off a small hill. I got a big smile on my face cause it was fun. I whipped it around a little corner and gave it some gas up the next path and the ass end was pointed towards the field and the front towards the woods, it was a power turn. Which normally in a power turn; say I want to go right, the front end may be pointed left, and I’ll slide left but once the back tires catch I’ll slide around and go right where I want to. This time when the tires caught, my high speed didn’t allow me to go right. I shot straight into a tree. At 25mph I stopped dead with my foot still on the gas pedal. Looking down I saw a bent steering wheel from the impact on my chest.

As I was able to catch up to speed with everything that had happened, I stopped and looked down at blood covered leg. My leg was cut from theectrical column underneath and the wheeler was no longer running. I broke plastic, bent the frame, poked a hole in the tire, broke the left axel completely and literally ripped the stainless steel wheel almost in half. I didn’t hesitate to call my father. I knew I had really f****ed up but I wasn’t going to waste time especially since my leg was bleeding and it hurt like hell to walk. Thankfully he was out on the motorcycles that day and had a couple beers because he took it a lot better than I thought. I told him what happened and he knew what I meant. I wasn’t comfortable on it and didn’t know how the wheeler would react going that fast around the corner. It was my mistake and I told him I would pay for everything. He told me his first ATV accident happened when he was younger and that he crashed his dad’s wheeler too. He didn’t to say it but he had warned me.

By the following week I spent $1,500 on parts and him and I took just a few days to fix it. It was a learning experience and I guess that’s why he didn’t scream at me. He already knew that I knew what I did wrong. Sucks learning the hard way but that’s how life goes and that’s why my dad and I are so close. He lets me learn on my own and doesn’t criticize me. He’s a great man and this happened about 3 years ago and I believe I am a better rider today.

Week 4 truth or consequence

I have been away from blogger for a short time now, I have viewed some posts however but haven't had a chance to write my own. I have started 2 other jobs this week so I am up to three. Took this morning off before I go to the mud runs in Pittston to do homework. Now these prompts excited me.....

#16 As I walked out of Kokopellis that day after getting a fresh tattoo on my wrist, a man stopped me and asked if I would like to get paid to talk about something I was passionate about.

"Like in a seminar?" I said.

"More like, a seminar on the streets. Get people engaged. Would you do it?"

I had to think about this. What could I talk about say for a solid 30 minutes or an hour that I really love? TRUCKS! I could talk about trucks forever. I'd compare the models, at least the ones I know best: Ford, Chevy, Dodge and Toyota. I would talk about their suspensions, torque and towing capabilites. Not to menion breaking down V6 and V8 engines.

I would love to be able to talk about trucks because nothing "grinds my gears" like a Chevy owner talking about their trucks whippin' donuts and catchin' pausey. Trucks aren't built to do this boys... They will wear down and you'll be replacing tires, ball joints and your suspension before you know it. My truck can catch pausey... Which means I've tried, yes I admit it.

Talking about something that is passionate to me is why I like writing so much. Some say writing is so hard but you have to try and relate to your writing or figure our why you DON'T relate to it and run off of that. So if this man is OK with me rambling on about Trucks for an hour; I'M IN!




#14 Wishing, lying, dreaming etc. What writing is for me:
Writing to me isn't like any of those things, writing to me is like freedom. It's almost a destination, whether I'm writing a homework assignment or not its the one thing I put everything I have into. Even if my writring isn't perfect I can't wait for feedback. I want every comment on my writing to have some negitive to it, or possibly suggestions, how do I grow without it? It's a place where I don't feel stress or anxiety it lets it all out.

I was asked to write a paper on my favorite movie and why. I chose Full Metal Jacket, this was in high school but it was one of my most favorite pieces to write. War is such a fasination to me that I sat down for 2 hours writing, re-writing and revising my paper, I absolutely loved it. I could write an essay about some Shakespear piece, if its the Odyssey I'm set. (Favorite all time story.) However some literature is hard for me to understand but writing makes me dig deep and really learn, I don't want to just pick information and slap it into a paper, thats not a paper.

Writing is like freedom. It's a destination.


#15 I have magic potion, this potion allows me to give it to someone, (probably sneak it in their drink like some crazy college party) and once they consume it it will allow them to tell the truth for one minute. That's if they speak for that minute. If I could choose anyone to give it to it would be one of my female cousins.

Ever since I was little she has been the one who never smiled, never really let loose and always looked like she either wanted to fight or was holding something back. Shes a hard cookie to crack. She asked me to be a brides maid in her 2013 October wedding. I didn't show up to her bridal shower because...I NEVER GOT AN INVITE! I don't know if she thought she texted me about it or what but I would have been there. Knowing her persona, why would I miss it? She would kill me. She hasn't spoke to me in well over a month and her wedding is October 7th. I don't think she has a problem with me but I would love to give her this potion to figure out why there is this ginormous stick up her ass 24/7.

This girl is family and you want to see them smile. Now if I were to think about what she might say if she had this potion for one solid minute? It almost makes my brain hurt. She holds everything in so well, so I think if this really happened? I would probably brace myself and hid fo cover.


I just want to say, I really enjoy this course, when I'm done writing something, I feel happy. It's very fun!

Friday, September 13, 2013

week 3 scene setting and dialogue

"You know you need a fishing pole to go fishing right?" Macy said sarcastically.

"Ummm DUH!" I boasted. "I bought a pink Ugly Stick yesterday!"

" Congratulations... Did you buy an open reel or closed? I bet you forgot which one I told you huh?" 

" Wow I truly know what my best friend thinks of me now! I got the open reel I remembered what I used before. I swear I'm smarter than you think!" I said to Macy raising my eye brow at her yet holding in a laugh. 

"Yeah oooooook! You know I'm joking but lets be honest... I'm about to to teach you how to fish." Macy uttered.

We act like we hate each other all the time and we get the craziest looks from our friends. We look at each other and laugh, we talk this way even if no one is around. Having fun is what we do best. She is my way of getting away from the world and letting everything go. So far shes the only one I am able to do this with.

As we jump in the truck we start cranking the music... Our favorite song is "Fuckin Problem" by Tyga. Its one of those songs we can belt out, feel awesome and... Not care! (I will not share the lyrics.)

"Macy turn the damn radio down I can't see where we are supposed to turn!"  I yelled.

"You're asking me to turn down the radio so you can see better? Do you see where that makes NO SENSE!?" Macy boasted back at me.

"UH YEAH but loud music makes me not be able to think straight ya know."

"Yeah yeah whatever its right here." She said.

"Why do I hangout with you."

She said "because we think alike, and dislike the same people." Macy Said.

"So we're bitches."

"...Basically." She Agreed.

                                                                     *******

About 15 minutes later...

"Macy stop it! I know how to bait a hook!" I said.

"That means you have to actually TOUCH the worm Ashley!"

"I got it I got it just give me a second!" I said with barely an ounce of confidence.

I snatched the worm and drove the hook through one end feeling sorry for the worm, and jabbed it with the hook another time. I dangled it in front of my face with the saddest look and belted;

"SEE I CAN BAIT A HOOK!"

"I guess you can, now cast your line and shut up." She replied.

                                                                     *******
"Its so nice out here, I don't know why I've never gone fishing before."

"Yeah I used to come out here by myself after school all the time. Its so much nicer with my best friend!"

I replied, "Yes it is! I always pictured myself doing this with my boyfriend, but since I'll be single forever I guess you'll do."

She gave me a glare and said, "don't worry I'll be right there with ya."

"MACY OH MY GOD I GOT A BITE!"

"So reel it in!"

I start reeling and the bass comes to the surface. "Its huge! The pole is gonna break. Take it, take it!"

She started laughing at me and said "just give it to me you wuss."

I dropped the pole before Macy's hands even got on it. I didn't realize myself literally running away from it. From about 10 feet away I stood and watched as she reeled it in, stepped on it and ripped the hook from its mouth.

"Ya wanna touch it?" She snarled.

"You tell me the answer to that question."

"You know fishing means to do all this on your own right?" She said.

"I'll get there someday now throw it back and lets do it again!"

Macy shook her head at me. I baited my hook and I cast out my line once again.





How should I close the dialogue out ?

Friday, September 6, 2013

Week 2 Prompt. It was the first, but not the best, -- or was it?

My jobs have always been very important to me. I have worked at quite a few different businesses by now and got a taste of a few different careers. I have always found out that I can not stay at a job that I do not enjoy, for I will forever be the determined one to work in an environment I like. My very first job was at a hotel, house keeping. This place is in beautiful downtown Camden, Maine. It was the first, but not the best--or was it?

This job was my first real one. I needed money and didn't care what field I was in for I was 16. It was house keeping and might I add, I thought I knew how to clean but when cleaning for a hotel, you really learn all the nitty-gritty details of what cleaning really means. I didn't get the hang of it until a few weeks in and I couldn't decide if I liked it or not. Once mid-July came we were booked solid every day and it was a real test for me because we had to have the rooms clean before check-in time. Days when it was 85, busy and only 2 of us cleaning were the tough ones. With back issues I wanted to walk out so many times. It wasn't an easy job at all. However I truly took pride in knowing when I left a room, I did a great job.

I came back again the following Summer to work there. When I drove to Camden for my first day back I couldn't decide if I was going back because I enjoyed it, or because I had such a great boss and people to work with. Our head house keeper was much older and some days she looked so tired. Wrinkly skin, sagging eyes, the LONGEST messiest hair always put up in a bun by the same clip. She complained often but I could always get her to laugh or to talk about what really bothered her. We usually cleaned the same room at the same time so the day would go quicker and go smoother.


When I look back now I really valued my job at Towne Motel.  It was the beginning point to my hospitality career. I am now a front desk clerk and have accepted a managerial job at another inn down the road from where I am now. I feel as though without the cleaning job I wouldn't have realized how much I love this business. People and tourists in general can be EXTREMELY annoying and very demanding. However, its those moments in which you go above and beyond to make somebody happy that they acknowledge your efforts or give you a great review on TripAdvisory; it makes it all so worth it.  Although cleaning hotel rooms isn't my forte, it was the first but not the best--yet at the same time it sort of was. It was one of the best experiences.

Today, I still stop by there and say hello. I had to leave my job there last Summer due to working two jobs and it just getting so overwhelming working doubles 5 days a week. I've learned a lot with the jobs that I have taken on thus far. I believe I am the happiest where I am now and will be moving on to a higher position very soon. It is exciting and I give all the thanks to those I worked with in Camden, they taught me what it means to really work, be precise and on time. Looking back I believe it was the best and I can smile thinking about it. Yet I will never take on another cleaning job, I'll be the one hiring other people to do it for me.   :)

Thursday, September 5, 2013

forgetting history and repeating it

 Beginning college I hadn't really known what I was getting into. I was planning on being the brave one and work every day and go to school.  I told myself that it can't be that hard. I set my schedule up and didn't realize that it got changed. I went to school 2 days a week and commuted there from over an hour away. Much to my chagrin I made it work best I could.

However once I got going it got harder and harder on me. I didn't get as many hours at work, was going broke and had to ask my dad for money. I hated asking anybody for anything! My dad always told me:

"You're young, you're not supposed to be worrying about money yet."He stated.

"Yes but I like money and I'd rather work." I said. Once I said that I could see the vexed expression on his face. I told him not to worry I was determined I was going to do both no matter how much it sucked! However in November of that fall semester I told myself, "never again." I was either going to live in the dorms or find an apartment. I did just that by my 2nd semester and 2nd year of college.


                                                            *     *    *    *

August 12 2013: I called my adviser and set up my schedule. Knowing I was currently working a full time job of 50 hours a week and that it wasn't over until October. I had to commute once again. I decided to not to even think about it. "I gotta do what I gotta do." I told myself over and over again. I have 2 creative writing classes online, and a Literature class with the lovely Devin Wood on campus 2 times a week. So far it is going well besides getting pulled over this passed Tuesday for speeding. Almost criminal speeding might I add.

"I wont make up any excuses...I was speeding." I sadly said to the Sheriff. "I'm driving over an hour to class and I'm going to be late because of work this morning."

"Do you realize how fast you were going?" He boasted. "Almost 30mph OVER the speed limit."


"All I can say is if you give me a warning it will NEVER happen again." I was almost speechless. I knew I was in the wrong and just plain pissed off that I didn't slow down.


Situations such as this one I knew that it was going to be an interesting semester and it was only Week 2! Since I have about 13 more weeks of traveling twice a week, I guess I better tell my boss I HAVE to leave when I have to leave. So I'm basically repeating history. Doing something I told myself I would never do again! I have realized as I get older you have to do what you have to do, and a college degree is very important to me. Even if I land a hotel job that I don't even need a degree. (Which is the field I want to be in - Hospitality) I will feel satisfied that I have one anyways.

I got a speeding ticket my first year when I commuted, yet I was on the deans list and never missed any of my bills. This year my classes are even better and I got a warning for speeding. This must mean something right? Hoping its a great year. I'd like to say.... Never again. However next semester I will be commuting once again. I've always told myself I don't want to be one of those broke college kids who has a ton of money to pay back. I'm gona be one of those college kids who buys a vehicle all on her own, a truck at that. Works full time and makes deans list. No boyfriend either.... ;)

Forgetting history and repeating it... Only doing it better this time.





Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Week 2 Looking into that Photo album, I see --

           There's something about a photograph that moves me. Whether its how many secrets can be hidden; looks on faces or how its the same no matter how many times you look at it. Or is it? A photo can say so many things its just a matter of how well you know the scene, setting and the people in it. Each one has its own story to tell.
            My aunt has always been the one in the family to take all the pictures. We were all so grateful for it too because we didn't have to do it. She saw everything from behind a camera lens. When I was younger I would go to her house every weekend while my parents would go out to dinner or out with their friends. It seemed like every Saturday she had new photos she couldn't wait to go print out. One evening we were nearing in on my fathers 40th birthday. She is my dads sister and they have always been really close. She wanted to create something meaningful for him for his birthday. One Friday evening she told me she wanted my opinion on something very important to her. We sat down on her back porch. At this point she lived on the Ocean in South Thomaston, a beautiful quite small house. The moment seemed really special to me. I'll never forget that.
        She handed me a large photo album with a bright little smiling face on the cover. I could tell by the nose that it was that of my fathers. Looking into that photo album, I see a familiar face. I see my father as a young boy playing with his sisters. Harassing them, laughing with them, making them cry and teaching one how to drive. I saw a photo of my great grandmother of whom I never got the chance to meet. I stopped on the photo and gave it a longer glance. She was beautiful. My Nana looks just like her.
         Being an only child gave me a chance to get closer to each of my parents, possibly more so than other kids. My dad has been like my best friend. He's inspiring to me and I always wanted to be like him. Looking into that photo album I almost saw myself. I recognized a little tricycle in one of the photos. I remember being so excited because it looked like mine!

"That is your tricycle now." She exclaimed. "Your dad kept it for a very long time and passed it on to you!"

        This made me so excited! To have something to play with that was once my fathers when he was my age. It was so cool to me. I couldn't wait to get through the rest of the photo album. There were class photos and school portraits of my dad and pictures of their whole family. Its crazy how much time has changed. The photo quality was so different! Being that young I thought it was so neat how different things were. I hugged my aunt Sheryl and thanked her so much for giving me. The final photo in the album was my dad smiling and my mother holding me in her arms. It was almost like my aunt created my fathers life in photos, it was magical.

"It's the perfect gift he will love it." I said, with a generous smile on my face.

Monday, September 2, 2013

Journal

I have to say beginning the week 2 assignment really opened my eyes. Within the last couple of years there have been crazy events.. School shootings, child abductions. The killing of that Glenburn girl a month or so ago was really sad. I drove through Glenburn two days ago and got such a weird feeling.

On Saturday a bus full of a bunch of my friends was riding down to see Luke Bryan when a woman from Belfast blew through a red light and the bus hit her. She died on the ride to the hospital.

I wish I could say that I believe in God but I am a firm atheist and I'm not sure if I believe in the saying "everything happens for a reason," either.

The news is so full of sad and depressing things. At my work we put on the news just so we can hear the weather. I have come to realize that the news comes on at 5 or 6am and is put on repeat until noon time. I find myself hearing the same 5 depressing stories about 12 times in one morning. Until I change the channel to the Maine Visitor Channel or Accuweather. I don't live in fear but its truly crazy and intimidating how quickly your life or a loved ones life could be taken from you. I will never understand how some other countries think either. How in the HELL can you sacrifice yourself by running a damn plane full of innocent people into a building full of MORE innocent people where all the rubble will land on... well... more innocent people. I honestly feel like the war we are in today will never be over. I hear people say that it is over but I'm pretty sure it isn't.

16 mass shootings happened in the year 2012 alone. At least 88 people died. I swear the worst in a long time was the shooting of all those children and teachers in Connecticut. Its just completely baffling to me to think about someone pointing a gun and firing on them. What is wrong with you?

I checked out this website, to get real facts on these 88 deaths and found there were events that I didn't even hear about on the news... "classmate opens fire on other students." WHY?

I value every single day so much now that I am getting older. I spend more time with my elders, listen to all my great uncles war stories and I'm always sure to keep in touch with my friends that are off to college far away. I value my life so much. 


Theme Week 2



The year 2011 was one of the biggest years. Not just for me but in history. 2011 started with me working a closing shift at a hotel in Camden, Maine. Someone had to do it so of course it was me. I went to bed early and didn’t even watch the ball drop.  Once school started back up I was on my final leg of my senior year of high school, it was like “easy-peasy.” At that point I could blow just about any class off because I knew I was graduated, however for the sake of my high school basketball career I went to every class early.
As those beginning months past of the year 2011 I played in several basketball games. We were one of the top teams in class B girls’ basketball. The highlight was beating Camden, our rival team. We hadn’t lost to them once in over 3 years. Beating girls who act like bitches on the court only gives you the BIGGEST feeling of satisfaction when you have to shake hands after the game. During this time I never ever paid much attention to what was happening in other countries. In Egypt their president decided to resign and hand his power to the military. At the same time in Libya, protestors only wished their leader would step down but he wouldn’t. I remember my grandfather talking about a man named Hosni Mubarak; apparently he ended up killing several protestors…

Come April I was already planning my birthday. My birthday is May 25th of every year of course and I always enjoy going camping or taking my 4-wheeler out with a bunch of my family and friends. This year we decided to go up to Rangeley and stay in tents along the trails. Bring Deer meat and cook on a portable grill. I absolutely could not wait. My dad’s birthday is April 13th and we hosted a big party at his favorite local bar. April 29th Kate Middleton married Prince William in Westminster Abbey in London. Probably the most watched event ever. I’m pretty sure it was on every network on television.
We have been fighting in a war against terrorism since the year 2001. Trying to pin point and find the men/man behind the horrible acts on September 11th. On May 2nd the CIA and United States troops shoot and kill Osama Bin Laden in Abbottabad, Pakistan. I remember this day clear as a bell. I was home and my parents had just turned on the news in time. The reporter even acted with a slight sigh of relief. We all knew this didn’t mean that the war was over, but it was big step closer and we couldn’t possibly thank the military enough for their hard work and sacrifice.

My birthday couldn’t have been better. Perfect weather, everyone came and I didn’t even use my tent. I slept on the ground near the edge of Rangeley Lake. I was now 18 years old. Still none of the war stuff made too much sense to me, I always wished I paid more attention to the news but it was always so depressing. – I graduated on June 8th at 6pm in my high school gym. It was such an amazing day. There was a bird that flew in through the doors and was their throughout the entire 2 hour graduation. No one could quite keep their eye off of it for too long. Especially the large woman in the corner with the camera; she was on the tallest bleacher and it was like the bird was harassing her. I can’t imagine what any of her footage looks like.
On July 22nd 2011 Norway was hit with another terrorist attack. First a bomb that killed 8 people then a few hours later a man disguised as a cop opens fire at a camp for young political activists. I started working my first year as a house keeper during this month making $7.75 an hour. I’d go to work at 8am, come home have dinner and hangout with my friends; peacefully. The gunman alone killed 68 people in Norway that day.
I swear just a few days ago I was listening to Amy Winehouse’s song “Rehab” and thinking, “Wow I haven’t heard this song in forever it’s so good! Then On July 23rd, she was found dead from an overdose.
One of the biggest known controversial trials that have happened in the United States began in 2011. I was watching TV one afternoon after work and I remember hearing people talk about the Sandusky trial and didn’t have a clue what they were talking about. Normally I ask but I was just too lazy that day. Former Penn State Football defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky was arrested on 40 counts of sexual assault. By December, two more people came forward that were assaulted by him and he was then arrested for over 50 counts of assault over a 15 year period.
Another amazing day in history was when The Mavericks Beat the Miami Heat 105-95 in the Championship game. For any New Englander or shall I say most, we are NOT Heat fans. Basketball has always been my passion. When the 2011 season started I felt so good about the Boston Celtics. But the Miami Heat had Lebron James AND Dwayne Wade so they were only getting better.  I didn’t like the Mavericks much but they ended up in the finals against Miami and it was such a tough series that I even lost sleep over it. I was literally jumping up and down during the final 10 seconds of this game. 
Yes 2011 came with so much history:  the military, to terrorism, gay marriage, and basketball and mass murders. Being 17-18 years old I didn’t pay much attention to many things but it was a year in which I graduated high school; started college, became an adult and also began my own career as a college athlete. I began to understand more things that were happening around me and watched the news more no matter how depressing. The year 2011 was like a new beginning for me.