Fevered Delusions

This is my favorite song right now.  

Today’s Exploit:

This morning I woke up freezing.  FREEZING.  In Texas.  In the summer.

At first I just thought they turned down the AC and I’d be fine in a minute.  

After an hour of shaking violently enough to rattle my teeth I decided that I needed to go outside to get warm.  I could tell something was not quite right because my skin was warm to touch, but I was still shivering like I was in an earthquake.  But my main focus was getting outside so that I could be warm again.

So I went out and sat in the sun.  

Normally just walking outside makes me feel like I’ve been slapped in the face with a shot of steam, but today it took me a full 4.87 minutes to feel warm.   

About when I started to feel warm I also started to feel like I might be sick and wanted some privacy.  So I stumbled behind the trailers and across the road.  After tripping over a rock and my own feet 17 times I made it.  That was when I realized that I had a good chance of losing consciousness and privacy probably wasn’t at the top of the list of things I needed anymore.  

So I turned around and shuffled back to the trailer where I scared the socks off Enrique, the other MWD.  He helped me to the couch and gave me drugs to help my fever, and then he made me sleep on the couch the rest of the morning so that he could make sure I didn’t get any worse.  

I Have a New Shadow

I made a deal with K.J.

He won’t set his alarm.  I’ll wake him up in the morning

He suggests poking him in the foot, it’s safer than poking him in the arm.

Today’s Exploit:

The other day, when I was past delirious from exhaustion, I met a roughneck.  Or rather, I talked to him a bit.  

He told me about San Antonio, and that the Riverwalk was an awesome place.  He said we should hang out since we’d both be working nights.  He made jokes and chattered about a lot of things I don’t remember.  

The next time I saw him, after I got some sleep, he didn’t talk to me at all.  

He did, however, stand as close to me as possible any time I wasn’t moving.  Now every time I go to the rig floor, if he’s there, I have a second shadow.  A silent second shadow.

I’m not sure if he’s stalking me or if he’s worshiping me.

I wish he’d go back to work.

It makes me nervous.

Please, Please, Make It Stop!

Have I mentioned yet that I’m moving?  

I’m a little bit excited.

Today’s Exploit:

The day DD doesn’t like his bed.

He’s slept on the couch every night I’ve been here.  

He also stays up until at least midnight.

Eventually he’ll go to sleep and the other DD or I will go through and turn off the lights; maybe we’ll even turn down the TV.  It doesn’t really seem to matter to K.J., but it makes me feel better.

Then we sit in the office and talk, or read, or surf the internet, or write stories.  Occasionally one of us tiptoes into the kitchen for a snack or a soda or some lemonade.  We could tromp through the trailer like a heard of great white sharks and K.J. wouldn’t notice, but we tiptoe to be polite.

But it all changes at 5:30 am.  

That’s when the alarm goes off.

The alarm sounds like a fog horn, or a fire alarm on steroids.  

And it goes off for 27.2 minutes, at the very least.  

I try to ignore it by burying my nose in my book.

Then I close the door.

Then I turn up my music to full volume.

I can still hear the WAUGH WAUGH WAUGH of the alarm.

So I talk to Richard and we pretend that nothing is happening in the next room.  If I get really desperate I go outside for a while.  

This morning I went really crazy and poked K.J. in the arm until he sat up.  I nearly got punched in the eye and knocked over, but it made the alarm stop.  

I Want It To Be October, Right Now

I’m currently addicted to cherries.  

Cherries and popsicles.  

Specially cherry popsicles

Today’s Exploit:

I decided, finally, that it is time for me to move.  

I even forced myself to leave my nice, cool apartment with the fully stocked kitchen to look for another one closer to where I work.

Since my old manager got a new job and I started working for my new manager I work mostly in south Texas.  This means that I have at least an 8.2 hour drive to get to any particular rig.  Mostly it’s more like 10.6 hours.  

But I digress.

I left my comfortable, air conditioned lair to drive around the cities of Texas in the blistering heat looking for a new place to live that wouldn’t eat 62% of my paycheck.  One that I was still willing to live in.  

And I found one.  

It’s new.  

Brand new.

It’s so new it’s not even finished being built yet.

But it will be delightful and shiny and modern.

And the best part?  

It has a gas stove.  

I’m so excited.

It also has granite countertops and stained cement floors.  

But the important part is the stove.  That’s why I chose it.  

Just kidding, but I’m really excited about it.  I’ve wanted to have one for soooo long.  

It also will get sunlight, especially in the winter.  And it’s close to a park with running paths and it’s close to downtown with live music and fun events (because it’s in a college town).  

I’m so excited.  Let me just jump up and down a few more times.

Myrtle’s Abandonment

One of the DDs just called me a hippie.

For eating yogurt; and for drinking chocolate milk.  

Ok, ok, I also had some Fig Newtons.

Today’s Exploit:

I forgot Myrtle.

I was going to visit Cupcake, and then to Austin and San Antonio to look at apartments.

So I packed everything up like I would for a job.  

I remembered my shoes, and my hardhat, and my contacts.  

I also remembered to re-pack my jeans that I’d washed and my sheets.

I was ready to go to Abilene and then to Austin, and then probably to a job.  

When I got to Abilene Cupcake and I made salad for dinner.  And she ate half a packet of mozzarella cheese balls.  And then we went swimming.  

After swimming we drove around looking for a park to walk in.  We ended up getting ice cream and going back to her room instead.

That was when I remembered.

Myrtle was still sitting on my kitchen window sill.  

I nearly cried.

And my plans changed a bit.

Naturally I had to go back for her.  She wouldn’t make it through a job sitting in that dark window.  I didn’t even water her before I left.  

*Sob

Myrtle was fine when I got back.  I don’t think she missed me much.  

And now she has a new friend; Kevin reminds me to take her every time I get into my car.  

I think she might like him better than me.  

The Con Artist

I’m moving.  

For reals!

Today’s Exploit:

Remember that kid I let put his arm around me?  

Well, he conned me into visiting him again by saying he wanted to learn to cook manicotti.  I’m a sucker for cooking with people.  I like having company when I cook.  And I like people who actually want to eat what I’ve cooked.  

Eating my food usually means we’re friends.  

Taking seconds means you might be my bestestest friend in the world.

So, I went back and I made manicotti.  And we watched another movie.  

He spent most of the movie trying to kiss me.  

And then some more of it trying to talk me into letting him.  

He’s rather persuasive.

Cowgirl Dreams: Achieved

I have strep.

I thought you were supposed to outgrow this disease at the same time you outgrew high school.  Along with useless homework and catty popularity cliques. 

Today’s Exploit:

I went to see my sister when she was in Abilene, for a fire.  

Our first item on our agenda was to get haircuts.  

We both forgot, again.

But we did go shopping.  For cowboy boots, naturally.  

I think Cupcake tried on 832 pair.  And I looked for some steel toes with red sequins, like Dorothy’s Oz shoes.  But alas, Cupcake was more successful than I.  She found some super-duper-fancy boots with pointy toes, just like she always wanted.

After dinner we went for a walk so that she could be a cowgirl.  It’s what she wanted to be when she grew up.  

Abilene is sidewalk challenged, just like Oklahoma City.  So we walked on the road and in the dirt and stickers and around a sketchy neighborhood.  And it was 947 degrees out.  

So we had to go back to her hotel and get Slurpees.  I love Slurpees.  I’ve been living on them.  They’re the only thing I want, along with popsicles, when it’s this hot out.  

Starla’s Hissy Fit

I love Texas, I love Texas, I love Texas.

It’s my mantra.  

Sometimes it changes to I love my job, I love myjob, Ilovemyjob.

Occasionally it’s a little hysterical.  Specially when I have to put the tool together at noon, in 104 degree direct sunlight.

Today’s Exploit:

Yesterday I stopped for “coffee”.  You remember that time I looked for apartments?  Yeah.  That stop.

I did my search and drank my smoothie and packed my computer back up with my list of places to visit ready at hand.

I got in Starla and put the key in the ignition.  I got Timmy-the-GPS ready with the first address for apartment hunting then turned the key.

Starla:  Chug, chug, click click click

Me:  No, Starla.  Please start.

Starla:  Click Click click

So I rerouted Timmy-the-GPS for the nearest garage, then I went across the street to the gas station to be sure.  

Luckily there was a garage right across the street.  

I walked over and begged the mechanics for help.  So they came over to try to jump her.  They were very nice and didn’t make me call a tow truck, and Starla did start with a jump.

So I drove her over and got her registered for the car doctor.  But now she’s back to purring.  

Thankfully.

What is Wrong With Me?

I think Doug-the-Driller was about to cry when he had to leave for his week off.  

We were buddies for sure.

Today’s Exploit:

On my way home I decided to stop and do some internet shopping for apartments in Texas.

I know, I know.  I didn’t think I’d ever WANT to live in Texas, but this durn job is cramping my home time.

I have decided that it will be worth it to live in this horribly freakishly hot state so that I don’t have to drive quite as far to work.  

After two years of making 8-10 hour drives I’m ready to give up on working in Oklahoma.  And I’m rather giving up on a chance to move to Colorado any time soon since my manager laughed at me when I asked about it.  

So I am stuck looking for places to live that meet my ever-increasing criteria.  

Number one at this moment:  Sunlight.

Number two:  Kitchen

Part C:  Washer and dryer.

The order changes, and the list lengthens, but those three are always at the top of the list.  

Ain’t Got No Actright

Today the driller is calling me “Cupcake”.  It makes me look around for my sister every time he says it.

Tomorrow’s supposed to be “Sugar Plum”.

Today’s Exploit:

I walked into the trailer to nervous laughs tonight.

Turns out Tommy was telling dirty jokes and they all got embarrassed when they thought I might have heard.  

Tommy:  Did you hear any of that?

Me:  ...Yep, I heard all of it!

Tommy:  Oh, crap!  

Me:  Hahaha

Tommy:  Bull****!

I smiled and walked away.  

When I returned to the room Patrick was complaining that he didn’t understand much of what Tommy said.  

He also noted that he needed to write down the quotes Tommy says.  

Then he spouted off a few, some rather vulgar.  That really embarrassed Tommy.

Tommy:  You’re not supposed to say that in front of a woman!

Patrick:  But, it’s what you said earlier!

Tommy:  Yeah, but not in front of a woman!  What are we going to do with you, you ain’t go no actright!

I just sit in my corner and watch them, taking notes for my stories.  

My Little Peach Cobbler

I’ve been asked to make cinnamon rolls.  And we’re going to have a barbecue for the holiday this evening.

I’m kind of excited.

By the way, Happy 4th of July.

Today’s Exploit:

I made friends with the driller on this rig.  He is funny and nice, and scary.  I definitely would not want to be on his bad side.

But I’m not, because I made cookies for him, with honey and not sugar since he’s a diabetic.  He did share with the rest of the crew.

And I take popsicles to them on a regular basis.  

So I go and talk to him and we laugh and he tells me stories and talks about his family.

And he tells me all the cheesy oilfield jokes that he knows, and that are appropriate.

He pretty much treats me like a granddaughter.  

When I’m in my box, and he has a question or has to change the depth of the well, he’ll call.

Me:  Hello?

Doug:  Hello, my little peach cobbler!

Me:  Hahahahah!

Doug:  I need to change the depth.

Me:  Ok, thanks for letting me know.

Doug:  You’re welcome.  Bye my little peach cobbler.

I don’t know why he decided to call me that, but I like it and it makes me laugh.  k

And now Tony, one of the DDs, calls me that as well.

A rather odd nickname.

He claims it’s because I’m sweet and peachy.

Whatever that means.

I’m A Strong Gell

Another gem from Don.

He was telling me a story.  He is always telling me stories.  There are so many!

I don’t remember what this story was about but whatever it was it was “Better than beer and Monday night football, and moonlight and Vaseline.”

He was rather embarrassed that I remembered that one.

Today’s Exploit:

Patrick has taken it upon himself to tell everyone he talks to about my muscles.  First he told Tony.  Then he had to tell Tommy the next morning.  

He’s commented a couple times about how he’s ashamed that it’s easier for me to carry the tool than it is for him.  

Then he told the driller.  And the next driller.  He even told the company men when they came over to chat.  

And when our new friend James-from-the-office came he was told as well.

Patrick:  She’s a strong gell!  (Gell is Australian for girl)

James:  I like that in a woman.

Patrick:  You should look at her muscles!

James:  My wife is like that, too.  I think it’s sexy.

They sat there talking about my muscles and how it is attractive and/or embarrassing as though I wasn’t sitting right there, between them.

I was probably a nice shade of fuchsia throughout the conversation.

I Wasn’t Fast Enough

The other night Don, the company man, was telling me about some wells he drilled.  

They were “Drier than a popcorn fart.”

Today’s Exploit:

The other day Patrick spent most of the afternoon working on his car.  He cleaned the headlights and fixed a loose belt and fiddled with anything he could find under the hood.

He really likes cars.

When he ran out of stuff to do on his he decided that he would work on mine.  He cleaned and cleaned and cleaned my headlights.  He spent the whole time telling me about ways to clean oxidized headlights and the way he preferred to use.  

When he was done he decided that we should take a drive in his car.  And I should drive.

He has a Subaru.  A racecar Subaru.  With lots of numbers and letters after the name.  All of them meaning that it goes really fast.

So I got in and started the car.  And turned around carefully, avoiding all the sticks and roots trying to tear off the undercarriage.  

Then I crept along to the gate guard, who waved us through.

I turned onto the dirt road and we started measuring out the distances that each of us had run.  I was driving along at a moderate pace, somewhere around 35.2 miles per hour.  

Patrick complained that I wasn’t revving the engine high enough.  Also that I wasn’t going fast enough.  

We finally made it to a highway, so I turned onto it and drove along at the speed limit.

He was still complaining.  

So at the next turn he made me get out.  

He was going to show me how you’re supposed to drive a racecar.

We went fast.

Really fast.

And he made fun of me for being too tense.  

But he didn’t slow down, and we made it back to the rig in 5.6 minutes.  

It took me 15.4 minutes to make my segment of the trip.