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.