Sixth Month - February

Who knew one month could last 13 months?

Today’s Exploit:

I decided that having regular panic attacks is not beneficial to me or Monkey. So I did lots and lots of research. I looked up midwives and and birth coaches and doulas and birth centers.

Most of what I found was very religious. Which is not something I’m interested in being involved in a pregnancy/birth. 

I interviewed a couple doulas and a couple midwives. Most of them had so much incense or smelly oils that I wanted to turn around as soon as I stepped into their lairs. I found one that I could stand and put it on a back burner thinking I’d talk to the doctor and ask her opinion.

First I told the doctor about my needle-phobia and explained that I was having panic attacks and looking into maybe using a midwife. Her response was to vehemently lecture me on the fact that my body is now a not entirely mine and that if a c-section is necessary so-be-it. She essentially told me that I’m being selfish for having anxiety and wanting to find a way to alleviate it.

She definitely ensured that I leave her practice and run to the midwife.

About My Babies

It’s raining, raining, raining here. So much rain.

Today’s Exploit:

I have a new mint baby. His name is Max. He is a transplant from Wyoming and the grandchild of the Saratoga mint bush that wanted to take over the yard, and the garage.

Natalie and Max's future homes, and Max hanging out in the water growing some roots.

I also re-potted Maya Mint, and cloned Myrtle. (I pulled her out of her pot and broke the resulting mass in half and planted them in separate pots.) I still have Myrtle, she is doing quite well again, finally. And her clone is Myra, who looks more like Maya. 

Maya, looking all spiffy in her new "real" pot.

I also have a new nasturtium called Natalie. I planted her at the end of September and then neglected all the babies on my porch while I went off and made caramels, fudge, cookies and met H’s new nephew. Thankfully the Mint clan is pretty hardy and I remembered to leave Natalie on the wall to catch the rain. 

My Babies!

Ally and Jack now live on my patio wall since they can survive off the minimal Texas rain, and are too big to carry around in a milk crate with all the other new babies.

The Perils of Living With 42 Guys

Okay, Okay. Maybe it’s not 42, but it’s a lot.

On to the real post:

I have finished week 4 of Insanity. I now have a “recovery week” where I do something resembling yoga. And then the hard part starts. The second month is the first month times 7, divided by ‘really hard’, and added to ‘fear’. The solution is ‘I’m REALLY scared”. 

Yay.

Today’s Exploit:

Recently I have lots of stories about boys embarrassing me. It’s a pretty normal occurrence, although not necessarily relating to my bum. Lots of these encounters I can laugh at, and dismiss to guys being guys, and some of them being sleazy. 

I can laugh that Cupcake’s friend told her my bum looks like it weighs 20 pounds.

I can laugh at how tight my work “jeans” are, and that I can’t breathe when I wear them.

I can even laugh, later, when sleazy guys use sleazy lines, and I run out the door as fast as I can.

And I can mostly even laugh at the stupid comments that they make after I leave a room, the ones that Ali relates to me at our next breakfast “date”.

What is not fun is the staring. 

We have a group of guys here preparing the site for the production stage, they set up the storage tanks and the pipelines that lead to the larger lines across the road. They also live in camp with us, while they are here. 

Of the four guys, two of them stare at me constantly. None of the four have ever said a word to me. They just stare. 

And I’m to chicken to confront them.

So I hide behind a table if I have to get up while they’re in the room. Or I avoid the dining room if they get there first. 

Tomorrow I’m going to be really brave and talk to the company man. Wish me luck, because I will probably be shaking, and have sweaty palms. And probably I’ll stammer. But if I have to spend the next 3 days or 2 weeks of month and a half with them it will be worth it if I don’t feel like I need to wear a bag over my head and dress in a tent to hide. 

Ok. That was depressing. Next post will be more fun. Promise.

I’m Not Sure How to Respond to That

I really don’t like my job today.

Today’s Exploit:

Alleah is the housekeeper at the camp that caters to the rig crew. They have individual rooms, a common room and make about 10.2 times the amount of food needed by everyone working on the rig. Alleah gets to clean the bedrooms every day, and the nasty boy-bathrooms. 

Since only three women are residing at this camp, Alleah talks to me a lot. I get to hear how disgusting the boys are and how horrible and evil the head cook is to her. I also have heard all about her boyfriend problems and know a great deal about her family. (Ali likes to talk)

The other night I was getting some salad to take with me for a “lunch” when she walked out of the kitchen.

Alleah: PJ, you have a nice butt!

Me: Um, thank you?

Alleah: No, really. Are those Lululemon pants, because those are awesome and make everyone look like they have curves.

Me: No, they’re just some cheap ones I found.

Alleah: Oh. Well, you have a nice butt, it’s nice and curvy.

Me: ...

Alleah: (walking away) It’s nice, you look black from the back.

I was completely blindsided by this conversation. Alleah has so much attitude, and she’s not shy about anything, and this conversation happened in the middle of the dining/common room. I don’t know how to respond to things like that, and I’m pretty sure anyone within earshot of her watched as I walked back to my room with my face flaming red and pulling my shirt down as far as I could.

Moving: Rig Version

Countdown:  15 Days.

Cookie Project:

Today’s Exploit:

I moved trailers the other day.

I’m not sure if the boys were glad to see me go so they had more space; or if they were just jealous that I got to be in a nicer trailer.  Now that we’re almost done drilling the living quarters are somewhat desirable.  

Granted it does smell in this trailer at times, but it’s due to someone working.  As opposed to boys letting their dishes moulder in the sink too long, or put off doing laundry as long as possible.  

The room and the bathroom are considerably smaller.  But man, is it quiet in that trailer.

Besides the room being smaller, there’s nothing like moving to make one realize just how much junk one has hoarded away.  

It took me four trips to get my junk from one trailer to the other.  And I get to move said junk to my car in another couple days.  

Currently I’m working on a strategy to cram all of it together so that it takes up less space.  Thus leaving me with fewer loads to tote out to Starla.  

Hint Hint Wink Wink

Countdown: 18 days left - *sob*

I decorated cookies tonight.  Now the box smells like too much sugar.

Today’s Exploit:

The mud logger is one of those creepers.

Mostly he’s just irritating and an insufferable over-sharer.  

But lately he’s been hinting that I “need” to bake something.

He walked in one day and said, “So, I hear you’re a baker.”  

Me:  You’ve been misinformed.

Him:  What! Those roughnecks lied to me?

Me:  Yep.

On another day, after I’d gone food shopping I dropped my bananas and was cursing my clumsiness.

Him:  Oh! It’s time for banana bread! You bake, right?

Me:  Grumble grumble. No.

For one:  Who wants to bake in a pig sty that’s infested with mice?

For two:  Trying to force me to do something is probably a guarantee that I’ll do everything in my power to not have to do it.  Especially if you’re being creepy and stalker-ish.  

I have taken to being extra surly in the trailer so that no one will talk to me, since privacy and being alone is not a conceivable option.

Myrtle Mint Needs a Haircut

Countdown:  35 Days.  My calves still hurt.  They may hurt for the rest of the year.

I decided I am going to take a picture of my hat every time it gets dirty.  So I can show all the pretty/gross patterns/whatever.  I was foiled in this endeavor before I even got started.

Today’s Exploit:

My next project is going to be to give Myrtle a haircut.  She is getting very scraggly right now.  

She has seen many new places and endless rigs.  And she is growing lots.  But she also sees the floor of Starla quite frequently.  And, since I have to go to Houston to see the office, she does too.

That means she gets mashed against the floor-mats occasionally because city drivers are stupid.  And once in a while because I’m gawking.  She also has to hang out in the oppressive heat of a car in Texas while I go inside and fight with computers.  

She’s been bent and wilted and dumped and smashed, from that one time I let one of the trainees ride with me.  His stuff fell on her, and she squawked at me in protest.  Then pretended she was going to die for 3.612093 days.  

At the moment she’s trying to grow all to one side of the pot.  I think she wants to tip it over to make me feel bad again.  

Gosh, Myrtle.  I water you and turn you on a regular basis.  What more do you want?  

Oh, new dirt?  I see.  It is true, you are only half full.  I will work on that.

The Silence was the Best Part

Countdown:  I forget.

I think I may be dead.  I just finished the first real Insanity workout.  I had to cheat starting the second set of pushups.  And my squats were “bend the knee a little” type squats.  

And now I am dead.

My hair is soggy, my face is dripping and I fogged up all the windows in my box.  Also, I think I may smell pretty bad.  

But I’m dead, so no one really cares.  Right?

Today’s Exploit:

I went home last night, aka 4:30 am.

I slept in my bed.

I locked my door.

I ate from my fridge.

I brushed my teeth in my bathroom.

I had almost silence.  Except for that weird drain noise that I think came from my upstairs neighbors’ washing machine.

It was bliss.

I Have a Pack

Boo!

Today’s Exploit:

The other day I went for a run.  

It was going to be boring because the highway is only a mile away and this particular road has no friends joining it at all.

But then after about 200 feet I was rushed by a pack of monsterous, fanged, blodthirsty dogs.

Or rather, the neighborhood pack decided that the prospect of a run was rather exciting, and after I greeted them they trotted off down the road.  Occasionally they would look back to make sure I was still behind them.  

The one that looked like a husky was the fastest.  The lab may have been the leader.  And the little one, that one was determined.  It had 3 inch legs, but it stayed with me the longest each time I ran by.  

It really tried to come home with me, but I was mean and wouldn’t let it in the trailer.  

They were all friendly, well trained and happy.  

They’d even come when I whistled to get them off the road for some trucks to pass.

Silence Would Be Devine

I almost had to adopt the poor starving dog.  She followed me around for the rest of the time I was in town.  I bet she’d have gotten in my car if I gave her half a chance.

Today’s Exploit:

I’m ready for a break.  

I want my own bed.

And silence.

No buzzing, no roaring, no clanging, no yappy trailer-mates.

Just silence.  

And I want to make caramel on my new stove.

Instead I get to make the trip to Oklahoma one more time.  To clean and to get my Kitchen-Aid.  I also need to get my hangers and my toolbox.  

Then I’ll be able to put my table and my futon together.  

And I’ll sit in the silence in my new living room basking in the light that comes in.

For dinner I’ll eat at my dining table, contemplating my new cubby-shelves, and enjoying the quiet.  

Complaining is Contagious

I’m making Smashed Roasted Garlic Bread.  My fingers are going to smell like garlic for a week.

Today’s Exploit:

I believe I mentioned I’m living with 400 people right now?  We’re packed into that grimy trailer like sardines. 

Smells like a sardine tin also, but that’s beside the point.

One of the guys in the trailer is not happy about anything.

And he wants everyone within a 3.7 mile radius to know.  

Also, he knows everything.  

A know-it-all complainer.  A loud one.  That means that no one is aloud to sleep if he can think of anything to say.  And he can always think of something to say.  He doesn’t even need acknowledgement from another being.  As long as he knows there’s someone within almost-hearing distance he can go on and on and on.

After about a week of listening to this guy, no one being able to get a word in edgewise, I noticed it.  

Everyone else started in on the complaints.  

Mostly it was about the complainer, but it’s hard to withstand all that negativism.

I even caught myself complaining more than usual.  

So I made a seriously stellar effort to cut back on the random complaints, and tried to avoid everyone else that seemed in the complaining mood.  

Luckily I’ve got my box to retreat to. 

And Solitaire.

They Just Sit There, Mocking Me

I need a coffee/tea mug.  This trailer I’m in only has 2.  And I‘m the only one who does dishes. 

That means any time I want tea I have to wash the cup before I can use it.  Usually that means getting the scrubber and clorox out because it has stage III green-and-black mold growing in it.  

I’m learning to keep anything I want to use hoarded away in my food box, otherwise it will disappear and/or culture the newest species of mold.

Also, I’m living with 6 guys, in a 3 bedroom/2 bathroom trailer.  One of the bathrooms is in a bedroom = EVERYONE uses the bathroom I use.  Stock up on the Clorox wipes.  And spray.  And Lysol.  

I might be cleaner if I sleep in my car and not shower for the next month.

Today’s Exploit:

I’m still working on unpacking.  

I’ve got everything organized except for the kitchen.  

I still have 5.7 large boxes of stuff to fit into my kitchen.  It will be trying.  

I can’t throw anything away because I use it all.  Amazingly enough.

It might take me until my lease is up to figure out what to do with this stuff.  

In the mean time, I don’t have hardware to put my table together.  So my boxes are residing in my dining area, quite content to mock my attempts to re-organize everything yet again.

You Should Ask For Help

I got to sleep in the rain, and the next night it frosted.  Brr.  It was amazing

Today’s Exploit:

Yesterday I got a delivery of some new tools.

But the delivery guy didn’t tell me that they were here, so I spent half the morning tracking them down.  When I finally found them I had to drag them 57.2 feet to my box.

I was at 49.7 feet when two of the roughnecks came to help.

Joe:  Here, let me help.

Bob:  I’ll take this end.

Me:  Fine. Here.

Joe:  Where do you want it?

Me:  I need it moved another 8.1 feet.

Bob:  Ok, there you go.

Me:  Thanks.

Joe:  You know, you can ask for help.

Me:  I know, but you were busy and I am able to move my stuff.

Bob:  But you should ask for help.  We’ll help.

Me:  Ok.  Sure.

I Like Those

Eat a cupcake today.  Or some pie.  Or a baked apple.  

Also have some pasta with clam sauce.  Ask my mom if you want a somewhat sketchy almost-recipe.

Today’s Exploit:

Book List:

Dealing with Dragons - Patricia C. Wrede

Sunshine - Robin McKinley

Silas Marner - George Eliot

Wicked Appetite - Janet Evanovich

Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden

Alanna - Tamora Pierce

Sabriel - Garth Nyx

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - Stieg Larsson

Anthem - Ayn Rand

Family Honor - Robert B. Parker

Elegance of the Hedgehog - Muriel Barbery

The Princess Bride - William Goldman

Game of Thrones - George R. R. Martin

The Black Rubber Dress - Lauren Henderson

Rosemary and Rue - Seanan McGuire

The Time Machine - H. G. Wells

Track of the Cat - Nevada Barr

The Jungle Book - Rudyard Kipling

Love Walked In - Marisa de Los Santos

Horrible

I have a pedometer in my new iPod.  Fascinating. 

I ran for 55 minutes and took 4475 steps.  I estimate that to be 5 miles.  Plus some walking in the middle.

Today’s Exploit:

North Dakota was a disaster.  

It was pretty and green and not entirely flat.  And it was not 103 degrees every day.  In fact I got up to temperatures in the mid 50s two days.  It was delightful.  And I got to run without feeling like I was going to pass out from heat if I stopped for a second.  

And it was the worst experience I’ve had since starting my job.  

I was completely miserable.  

The tools didn’t work, and I messed up and I got yelled at for not knowing how to fill out their multitude of paperwork.  In triplicate.  Sometimes in four-plicate. 

Then they wouldn’t tell me how to fix the paperwork.  They’d just yell at me some more.  

And after that they would patronize me. 

I wanted to strangle all of them.

So I had some melt-downs behind the storage shed and pretended the phone got unplugged without me knowing.  

My real manager is now my hero for telling them I needed to come back to Texas early.  

Never thought I’d be homesick for TEXAS.  

Disgusting.

Starting My Packing

I get to go to North Dakota!  And see some mountains, and some nice weather!

Today’s Exploit:

I started packing.  I’m really excited.  I’m ready to have a nice view and some direct sunlight, and a nice stove in my kitchen.  

I packed all my books and tried to organize my papers.  I even got the spare beds broken down and ready to go.  

And then I ran out of boxes.  

So I decided to go dancing.

I spent the whole time wondering where I could get boxes and if I wanted to get them from the grocery stores or from a moving store.  I also considered some plastic tubs.  

It was very distracting, and I’m out of practice dancing.

I was kind of a mess.

I also daydreamed about having my piano in my new living room.