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.