Lost in the Woods

I lost my fitbit. 

I thought it was gone forever and I gave up on ever winning a prize.

But then it came back today and I was happy.

The end.

Today’s Exploit:

I went for a run the other day. And H. decided to be nice and go with me. 

He is a little faster than I am, so I said he could go ahead if he wanted.

Then he said that he would run with me.

And he did for a little.

But then he decided to go on ahead, and didn’t tell me that he decided to do this.

I came to an intersection after he’d left me in the dust. I picked a way and trudged on, yelling for him every few minutes, with no response. And grumbling and worrying that I took the wrong path.

So I went back, and went down the other path for a ways, before deciding that we had missed each other when going back and looking, so I went home to see if he was there.  

Turns out he wasn’t, so I went back to the trails and did another loop and went miles and miles up the original trail I chose. I stopped to ask everyone I met if they’d seen him, but no one had.

Finally I gave up and went back down the trail to get some more water. I got back, after about a 9.9889 mile run to find him walking back from the house to find me. 

He’d gone all the way to the top of the trail, 9.5 miles round trip, and back. He must have come down while I was doing the other loop. And he waited and waited and waited for me to come back, because he didn’t have a key to go home. 

In the future, if he runs with me, I will make sure to specify that going ahead is fine just as long as you make triply sure that I know you are going ahead. 

Showering is Hazardous

Some very resilient flowers, hanging in there after 3 nights of freezing weather:

Today’s Exploit:

Last night the trailer ran out of water.  This happens occasionally, usually noticed when dish water stops running or someone’s laundry never finishes a cycle.  

Every so often it catches someone in a bit more awkward position.  

Last night the water ran out while I was in the shower.  

Thankfully I had about a 90.342 second warning when the water pressure started to drop.  I managed to get most of the soap out of my hair before the water was completely gone.  

I suppose I should be happy I didn’t run out of HOT water halfway through like I regularly did on the last job.  Due to the washer being cross-hosed (?). Everyone would wash clothes on “cold” and use all the hot water, right before I was ready to get in after a run.

Conversation About a Stroller

The fitbit tracking competition has begun. After 1 baseline week we stand:

1 Dad: 92410 steps

2 PJ: 82262 steps

3 Cupcake: 71601 steps

4 Mom: 45091 steps

The real counting starts today!

Today’s Exploit:

The other day I was helping H clean out his house, because he is moving. He doesn’t have much stuff and we spent most of the time trying to get gunk off the floor and walls and (eek) bathrooms. Also, we spent a bit trying to organize the stuff that his brother and sister-in-law had left when they moved out.  

In one closet I found a stroller, some bed supports and two Army uniform skirts. I put these aside so that I could sweep.

Klay was with me at the time and asked what the stroller was.

Klay:  What’s this?

Me:  A stroller.

Klay:  What are you going to do with it?

Me:  Probably give it away or throw it away.

Klay:  Why?

Me:  Because we don’t need it.

Klay:  You should keep it, you might need it tomorrow.

He has been hinting for a while that he wants to be a big brother, and has upped his game.  He has also asked when H and I will get married so that he can have a little brother.  And has told us that he’d be ok with a puppy for a younger brother, for the time being. 

Just to be clear... this is all wishful thinking on his part.

Spinach Explosion

I have a return customer for my cookies. I just wonder why the favorites seem to be kinds that I don’t like. That means that the extras are not particularly enjoyable.

Today’s Exploit:

I had a spinach explosion this morning. 

I was making a smoothie.

I have been making lots of smoothies this week. 

I’m beginning to consider myself a master.

Ok not really, but some have turned out pretty good. Especially the ones with blueberries and plums because they cover the color of the spinach.

This means that the smoothie is pink or purple rather than army green or gross brown.

Anyway, this morning I was trying to make my smoothie, and I had everything packed into my jar. I put it on the blender base and turned it on. 

The next thing I knew, spinach bits were all over the wall, the desk and my shirt. 

It took some thinking through the ensuing panic before I got myself together enough to hit the off button.

For as big a mess as it made there was still a surprising amount of spinach still in the jar. So I wiped it up and cleaned as much of the green off the wall as I could. And the smoothie still turned out to be drinkable, albeit with a bit of a mess around the rim, but still...

It Was a Bit Drafty, Just Didn’t Realize the Extent

We had a fire today. We had to stop working so that the roughnecks could put on their firefighter hats and save the day. 

PS A rig is not a good place for a fire, the whole thing can blow up. Especially if we have gas returns.

Today’s Exploit:

I’ve had another wardrobe malfunction. 

It was rather embarrassing.

I couldn’t even go hide afterward, they made me keep working.

Ok, I don’t know if anyone else actually noticed, but they could have!

Anyway...I was doing my job, getting the tool ready for the new run. I was all ready to go and had even moved it to the catwalk (it’s really called that) to be ready to pick it up.

*Side note* *My tool is about 30 feet long, weights about 180 pounds and requires the air-hoist, or hydraulic-hoist, or whatever-hoist to lift it to the rig floor.* 

Then they lowered down the old one, so that I could pull it down the catwalk (it’s really called that) and swap the lifting mechanism to the new tool.

Before the bottom of the tool reaches the catwalk (it’s really called that) it hits a ledge, where they can leave big collars and drill pipe that they might need soon. I put my foot up on the v-door for leverage and pulled the tool off the ledge. 

RRRRIIIIIPPPP!!!!!!!!!

My thoughts: Crap, my pants ripped, I hope no one notices. I didn’t think these ones were that old, and they don’t even look worn.

I pulled the tool down along the catwalk (it’s really called that) and set it down as gently as possible.

That was when I got a chance to look at the RRRRIIIIIPPPP.

No chance it was just a small one. Oh no. They ripped from the middle of my zipper down to the middle of my thigh. That’s a good 10 inches. 

So, there I was, parading up and down the catwalk (it’s really called that) with a brand new fashion statement going on. Not a particularly good one, either. 

Since everyone was waiting on me, I had the joy of picking up the other tool, going up to the rig floor to make sure it was sitting properly in the collar and putting a new o-ring on the flow sleeve.

It wasn’t until I went down to change into my backup pants that I realized how visible my electric pink and garish purple leopard print panties were.

Oh joy.

I Might Be Able To Sleep Now

I ran 4.97 miles in 45 minutes. I even had to walk 0.33 miles. I have renewed hope that I might be able to finish my race in something somewhat, maybe close to my goal. But I’m trying not to get my hopes up.

Today’s Exploit:

The mouse, the one that has been haunting my nights and making it even harder than usual to fall asleep, and making sure that I wake up even more than normal, has been caught.

Finally.

I’m told it was taken outside. 

I’m guessing it was on a sticky trap and will slowly die of thirst, but I’m going to pretend that it was a snappy trap and it had a quick clean death. Even with the amount of trauma that the monster caused me, I don’t really want it to suffer. 

Naturally the timing of this event is just so that, if I have to stay tonight, tonight will be my last night. And therefore it will not be any easier to sleep because I’ll be excited about going home. 

Gah.

Mice Are No Longer Friends

I have less than 3 weeks until I kill myself in a most torturous manner. 26.2 miles of hopefully not exceptionally hot Texas weather. My goal is 4 hours, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to make it, but I plan on finishing anyway. Then I’ll fall over and twitch a bit before I expire.

Today’s Exploit:

I was okay with the mouse that ran around the kitchen, and not overly concerned about the mousetrap wars that followed.

I was also okay with the two that played under the table while I washed dishes, only running away when I had to cross their path to get to the bedroom. And I was a bit disgusted with the fact that they chewed through one of my headphones, but it was the replaceable part. 

I laughed at George the other day when one ran from the fridge to the recliner and he wouldn’t put his feet on the floor until he had to go outside. 

That all changed last night.

I was in bed trying to relax my brain enough to go to sleep, a nightly trial. Then I heard scratching. When I looked nothing moved and I attributed it to my imagination, which tends to go wild at bedtime. I heard it again, and was met with the same results when I looked for the source. I re-situated myself so that I could see off the bed if I heard another noise, and proceeded to fight the random flight of my thoughts.

Suddenly I felt a tickling on my head. One of those creepy feelings that moves along a line, and you’re sure it’s a bug, but it turns out to be your imagination when you try to brush it away.

I took a deep breath and made myself stay still and try to relax. 

That was when I felt something moving down my side.

I sat up as fast as I could.

The mouse ran the length of the bed and disappeared.

I made a noise something along the lines of “Gaaah-rrrraaaaawwwweeerrr” (which translates to something along the lines of: BLOODY HELL, THERE’S A MOUSE IN MY BED AND THAT IS DEFINITELY NOT SOME PLACE THAT A MOUSE SHOULD BE! GET OFF! GET OFF! GET OFF!) and jumped up.

Naturally by then the mouse had vanished completely, and did not appear to be in any of my bags or under the bed or hiding in the A/C closet. I searched each of these places at least 3 times before I retired to the living room.

I proceeded to sit on the couch, curled as small as I could get, and watch for the mouse for the next hour.  

I also spent this time trying to convince myself that I really needed to get some sleep, and the mouse only touched the outside of the sleeping bag. And maybe my pillow.

Probably my pillow.

I searched the room another 3 times, and my sheets 7 times.

I finally did make myself get back in bed, using a tiny corner of my pillow that I knew no mouse feet had touched.

I got an astounding 2.1 hours of sleep between trying to get comfortable, trying to make myself relax and feeling phantom mice feed EVERYWHERE.

Mice are no longer something I can see without thinking they were in my bed, and probably eating my food while I washed my hands. 

I was ok with traps before, but now I think we need about 17 in each crevice. 

The Time I Almost Killed George

I have just over 2 months left to be ready to run 26 miles, in a row, all on the same day, and it might be really HOT because it’s in TEXAS.

I have to run the purple line and the red line.

Today’s Exploit:

Yesterday I made birthday pasta. That’s the pasta that I’ve had almost every year, ever, for my birthday. Except that one time, and I don’t remember what we had, but it wasn’t as good.

I made birthday pasta because I said “Happy Birthday” to my cousin, and we talked a little bit and he mentioned that one time I made it at his apartment. Or maybe it was two times? Whatever.

Anyway. I made birthday pasta, because it’s amazing and it’s my birthday month, so it still counts. 

So, there I was, cooking butter and garlic. Every time I do that George and Matt act like I’m cooking up some ambrosia, or something equally appetizing. Not that it ever is, but they sure act like it.

I cooked the butter and cooked the extra chopped garlic and chopped some parsley and chopped some clams. And then I Matt attacked me asking if I’d put the cork back into the wine yet, and when I said it wasn’t open yet he attacked the bottle and opened it right up. Then he couldn’t figure out which way the cork went to fit back in the bottle. 

So I cooked the butter and the garlic and the parsley and the clams, with one clam juice. And then I added the wine and had some awesome purple sauce. And it cooked and cooked and cooked while I waited for Matt to come back with the parmesan cheese. 

He got back and I added the cheese, did a quick heat up and dove in head first. 

When I came up for a breath George was hovering. I thought it was pretty much a given that when I cook everyone eats, unless I hide it within 23 seconds. But since he was hovering I asked if he wanted some pasta.

He jumped in head first, too, quickly followed by Matt. 

We were sitting there stuffing our faces when Matt asked what was in the pasta.

Matt: This is really good, what’s in it? And how difficult is it?

Me: It’s REALLY easy, it’s just Butter and Garlic and Parsley and Clams and...

Matt: WAIT! It has CLAMS?!?!

The Stories I Hear

I have just spent an hour learning how to cite a reference.

Today’s Exploit:

Right now George is working days because Matt is on paternity leave. 

Being around George is like being lost in a library of fiction stories. Except that his stories are real. And he always has a story. Sometimes I’ve heard them before, like the time he was blown up, or that he’s been run over by 4 cars.

But most of the time they’re new. I’ve learned about his brother, who is 250 pounds of muscle and about as mean as a teddy bear until he snaps. Then, watch out! Or about his snake that he was growing to make a pair of boots, and a belt. But the snake is on the protected species list and they won’t let him. And he just learned that you’re supposed to have a special license to own this type of snake. 

He also was telling me how to train your dog to count. It’s all about the treat. And he’s got a pet goat. It’s named Dog. 

We’re Twins, Three Years Apart

Time to go back to school.  

I’m terrified.  But I’m going to do it.  I’m going to try to get an Associates degree in Business Administration.  

That looks a lot more impressive in writing than it did in my head.

Today’s Exploit:

On the walk back from the Riverwalk with our lovely, GIANT cones of almond gelato, we came across a man taking a smoke break.  He watched us as we walked past, then we heard:

“Twins!  Cool!”

We looked at each other and then heard:

“LOVE YOUR SISTER!”

This was about the fifth time someone had asked if we were or assumed we were twins.  

I believe that was about the time Cupcake told me that we were going to start telling people that we are twins because it makes them feel like they’ve seen something special, or some such nonsense.

I think she just likes telling people that we are.  

She has been doing it since I was old enough to buy alcohol.  

Suspicious Activity: Walking

Countdown:  One more day gone, and I’m still not ready.

I discovered, or rather re-discovered the comic Cyanide and Happiness today.  It makes me laugh.  

Today’s Exploit:

I like to pace when I talk on the phone.  

Or clean, but that’s only in my own house with no one else around.

So, here, I pace.  I walk in circles around the room or lay upside down on the bed and walk my feet up and down the wall and around the corner.  Or the ceiling, if I have a bunk bed.  

But usually I go for long walks on the beach in the moonlight.

No really.  I go for long walks.  But the beach tends more to a dirt road and the moonlight is the glare of the rig.

This activity usually gains me little to no attention.  Once in a while the roughnecks comment on my walks.  But usually they only notice my runs because that’s when I wear shorts.

When I arrived at my current and most lovely rig to meet with Dirty Herb I decided a walk was in order.  I wanted to talk to my parents.  

So I took off down the road.

I walked and avoided the wind and talked and walked some more.  

Then a car came grumbling down the road.  So I moved off into the lovely green clover that was the side of the road.

The car stopped.  

I said hello.

The man asked me where I was from.

I told him.

My parentals thought I was being snotty and said, “Hello, Wyoming?”  

I talked some more with the man and the lady watched.  

Then they drove away.  

So I walked some more and talked some more and tried to avoid the wind.

Then another man came down his driveway and asked me who I was and where I came from.  

Then he backed back down his driveway into his garage.  

Next came the lady who flew past me to talk to the gate guard at the rig.

You see, they thought I was mighty suspicious walking along the road talking on my phone.  They thought I was casing the joint.  And telling my friends about the loot they had hidden under their couches.  

So, now I don’t go walking in the night.  I’m afraid next time they won’t ask questions first.  I’m afraid they’ll get out the big scary guns that every one in Texas, except me, owns.  I think they might shoot me for talking on my phone and walking down the lonely road at night.  

The end.

PS  I told Dirty Herb about this and he laughed.  He couldn’t believe that anyone could be suspicious of little ole me.  Specially since I have short hair now.  

Guess that makes me look even more innocent.  

Huh.

This Week: In Review

Countdown:  62 Days.  

Have you read Clockwork Angel yet?  I like it.  

Today’s Exploit:

This week was the week from hell.

Monday:  Start new run.  This should be smooth sailing because we’re using fancy-schmancy tools.

Tuesday: Tool fails, but the help desk and manager are desperate to make it work.  Try random, pointless modifications for 3.16 hours. Aand we have no backup tools. 

Tuesday Night:  Backup arrives 5.3 hours after they told us it should 11pm.  Race to program and pick up new arrival.

Wednesday:  Yay, the tool is working, and I’m giddy from lack of sleep.  Just for good measure I get an infection that makes doing anything and nothing hurt.  Spend 3 hours in the emergency room because the doctor is busy.  Then he prescribes pain pills I said I didn’t want and some antibiotic after beating me up.

Wednesday Night:  Arrive back at the rig to discover tool problems again.  The DD thinks he’s the king of the world, and the manager tells me to change the sensor again.  You know how that story ends.

Thursday:  Things are working, but loopy from lack of sleep.

Friday:  Hospital calls and says that antibiotic isn’t going to work, you have to get a new one.

Friday Night/Early Saturday:  We finished drilling!  PS You get to stay up late changing the tool again.  And that gunk in your eye?  It’s not just sleep, or lack thereof.  It’s probably pinkeye.  Hehe.

Saturday:   Also, the pharmacy’s closed so no one can tell you what kind of eyedrops you should get.  And your eye is going to insist on feeling like a gargoyle is using it as a stress ball.

On the plus side, I did get to sleep for a few hours while they tripping back in.

Mud Bath, er Shower

Countdown:  63 days.  

Doctors: They give you pain meds you don’t want, then the antibiotic they prescribed doesn’t actually do anything and you have to go get a new one.

Today’s Exploit:

Yesterday the tool almost died again.  

After we tried fussing with the pumps and making 480,925 changes to the computers they made me change the pressure sensor again.

I checked with the driller, and he said he’d turn off the pumps and drain pressure from the pipe.  I went and got my coveralls, to avoid getting mud on my town clothes (aka the shirt Cupcake let me borrow) and got my tools.  

I took off the cable and the protector and checked once more with the driller that I could remove the sensor.  

He said it was ok, to go ahead.

I started turning the sensor very slowly, because I knew it would still have some pressure behind it.  Gradually it started leaking, so I knew it was almost free.  I made one more small turn, and BAM!

The sensor was gone and I was covered in mud and I had a 30.84 foot arc of mud shooting over my head.  

I took off my safety glasses and wiped them off. 

When I tried to put them back on I realized that the insides were coated with mud, not just the outsides.  

I didn’t have enough clean material on my coveralls to get it all off because I’d used it to wipe off my face.

When the arc didn’t decrease I ran upstairs to ask the driller if the valves were really closed.  He said that they were, and the flow would abate in a minute.  

So I went back down and watched for a while, until it was low enough that I could force a new sensor on.  I sprayed everything really well with ether-cleaner stuff and put my cable back on.  

Then I went and got a rag and went inside to see if it had helped.  That was when I discovered that I had black hair and a mustache.  

Once I was sure everything was back in working order, and had informed the Directional Drillers and the company man, I went to take a shower.  I spent the next hour and all the hot water dousing my head with dish soap and scraping at the mud on my arms with my nails.  

The Hot-Stove Virus

Cupcake!  What do you think about 31 March?  I couldn’t find any in May.

Today’s Exploit:

It seems a virus is going around in the trailer.  

No one has been able to turn the stove off for days.  

In the last 3 days I’ve gone to the kitchen 4 times to find at least 1 burner on.  

1. I was heating water for tea and couldn’t figure out why it the stove was so hot without boiling my water instantly.  I had made absolutely sure I had the proper burner before turning it on, I’ve started the wrong one a few times.  But not this time!
2. Went to use the toilet only to see 2 burners glowing red, with no one in sight.  Later, one of the boys told me he thought it would heat the trailer because he was cold.
3. Heated some water this morning, but had to go to the trailer.  I turned the heat down, but the solids control guy decided it was boiling too much.  He moved the pot, but left the burner on.
4. I was heating water to make tea this afternoon while Debbie Downer was frying an egg.  When it was done he turned the burner to HI instead of OFF.

Now I’m afraid to go near the stove for fear I’ll trip over one of the loose floor tiles and land on a red-hot burner.

I love my job.  I love my job...Ilovemyjob...Ilovemyjobilovemyjob...