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.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
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!
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.
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.
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?
"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.
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 :(
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.
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??
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.
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.
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.
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.
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...
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...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)