every once in awhile. I have a thought. And well... being the declared fruit rather than a girl, that I am... I find it only appropriate to blog a few of those thoughts under the alias of a semi-obscure piece of fruit that of course, has become one of my ever-growing collection of nicknames.


I Came for Petroleum and I Left with Perspective

After a discussion with, what I believe to be a modern day philosopher, at the gas pump @ Rhodes Mini-Mart the other day, I've been thinking a lot about people. And just the vast difference of our lives. Each of us, and how little I can fathom what it's like to be some people. This leads me to pick out certain characters that stands out in my head for some reasons. People who it hits me every once in awhile just how much they are something that I'm not, or sometimes it's just me realizing and remembering things about people that just strikes me as odd. So beginning now and probably continueing in the future, I'm at a need to share some of these characters with anyone who cares to read on.

Mark Miller - I work with Mark. I would say he's somerwhere in his 50's or so. Mind you, I work at a ski/snowboard rental shop. Now Mark used to be a veteranary techinician. Which I only recently found out when discussing my dogs medical problems. This strikes me as insanely odd. If for no other reason than the fact that he just didn't seem bright enough for the line of work. But I'm starting to learn that Mark may be harboring some mad-crazy brilliance. He does have a bit of a speech impediment (which note, is by no means the reason I thought he was none too bright... I've met several people with severe severe severe speech problems that were obviously too smart for their own good). But I could never imagine this man in a classroom past his senior year in high school and even that envisionment is a stretch.

Moe Miller - Well first of all... I should say that Moe isn't really named Moe. But that's what I've always known him as. I believe his real name is Freeman which would explain why he's generally known as Moe, and Moe-y by myself. (I also have come to notice that I'm bad with one syllable names... i have a necessity with in me for them to be as close to having two syllables as possible and will attempt to verbally edit these names as i see fit). Whilst Mark has only worked at the shop with us for last season and this season Moey has been at around since as long as I have and then far longer I'm sure. Moe, after three and a half seasons of working with the guy, still leaves me baffled. Unlike Mark I'm not sure what, if anything Moe did before he worked at 7 Springs. I'm not even sure if the guy is reasonably intelligent. I know for a fact he's a pervert in a harmless sort of way. Like rearranging the boots so he can watch the stupid girls that decide to make a show out of changing into ski clothes (I've had to ask girls to please put their bra and/or shirt back on before... as well as to "keep the underwear and re-add the pants" before, no lies I swear). And Moe also enjoys calling me HotLips and opening his fleece work vest to act as if he's flashing me. Oh and I nearly forgot, I have a running list of questions that Moe is not to be asked... why? because his answer is just something I didn't need to hear him say. For example "Hey Moe-y, What's up?"
Moe : my pecker *note: this is said in a very quick passed slightly awkward voice*
There's more, but I'll spare anyone that's still reading along with me.

My favorite part of these two characters is that they're brothers. They live together, neither is married. They live in what I've heard is a nice, large house with an in-ground pool. They both pack their lunch, moe-y brings a cooler, Mark usually a paper bag or a plain colored nylon lunch box/bag thing. They always go eat together around 11 or 11:30 in the day. Oh yeah, and they're loaded. I have recently found out that these two have an assload of money. From where I'm not sure, but I believe it's an inheritance of some sort. And from what I see they spend nothing. Other than hearing of this house that they live in, they dress cleanly but just normal average joe clothing. They spend what appears to be absolutely not a dime on soda or snacks at the resort and I've never seen either one of them buy a meal ticket and from what I gather they bring their own lunch every day. I don't know, it just adds to the mystery and ponderance I've been developing involving these two.

And due to my current task of checking snow conditions and my desire to give my hands a break but still publish what I have so far rather than saving it and forgetting about it... this shall be a two part post. Enjoy Part I.


I <3 my job.

That being said. (see title) I would like to tell my whole two possibly three readers about my job. On a busy day, a weekend perhaps, I wait on customers. I size them for skis and figure out the appropriate pressure setting for their ski bindings. I also select snowboards for customers and adjust the binding settings and give brief instuction on how the snowboard binding works. Other tasks include helping the not-so-rare idiot of a customer fit or tighten their boots. This job for the last 3 seasons and this 4th season has provided me with a whole new appreciation for human stupidity. To say the least. And middle aged women for the record, are a PAIN IN THE ASS when it comes to ski boots. Note : the only customer I've actually helped today was a middle aged women with her boots. I swear if nothing else I will never half a calf three times the size of my ankle and then decide to go skiing. It will never happen.

Now Seven Springs operates one of the largest rental shops on the east coast... both in product and in volume. On weekends we're people movers, not technicians. However these days due to school kids having sports and what-not I work an average of one day per weekend. Most of my hours are put in during the week. Which means a)less tips, i used to be the highest tipped rental employee... not so much now. b)No mother fucking customers. Which means we have essentially nothing to do. So to substitute the fact that we have no real job purpose the following tasks are designated to us at random. And they are....

--- spraying the boots with disinfectant the CORRECT way
--- putting the skis in different forms of numerical order
--- rearranging the arrangement of the skis
--- organizing the highpro pit
--- various tuning tasks

The only truly useful thoughts in this list are the disinfecting of boots, which never gets down properly anyway, and the various tuning tasks which need desperately done. But depsite the lack of sharp edges or functional bases, or even waxed bases on the skis and boards... i'm going to run you through what was designated for me to do today.

I began my day by grabbing a mop and assist in the morning cleaning of the floors. We do this every morning and every night, it's stupid to do it both times so we slack off horribly in the morning as long as night shift did their job. Which usually, they do. So we hurry through that... then there's a slight 15 to 20 minutes where we can get away with doing absolutely nothing. Then I spray boots for roughly an hour and a half. During which I called Rob and woke him up, as well as called Ashlee and just left her a voicemail generally harassing her into calling me back. But my day was brighter for a little while during the mentioned tasks. I decide it is high time for a cigarette. I go out to the hall and proceed. I'm back to spraying boots for about ten minutes when Joey Dix shows up on the scene and hands me two paint markers and announces that he's to give these to me. Assuming this means something needs numbered or renumbered I go to find out EXACTLY what it is that Terry needs done (terry = supervisor). So all he really does is gives me a rough idea of what's going on and hands me a pen knife. I spent the remainding three or so hours of my shift scraping the size numbers off boots and writing a new one on them so we don't have to make up fantastical lies to our customers to explain why we don't really have whole size boots. It's far easier for them to accept the fact that we don't have half sizes that us saying we don't have whole sizes... if you can imagine. But yes, in fact, they are all half sizes. I know, I know, it was stupid. But so is the shop manager.

After 5 hours of this nonsense I decided that I was going to shoot something or someone if I kept going like this... so I asked to go home and I was told NO originally. No one has done anything except busy work all day but for some reason he didn't want to send me... after I know I had to have looked like someone had torn my heart into 3,000 pieces he rethought things and said... yeah okay, you can go. THANK FUCKING GOD.

Now remember though, depsite the fussing... I <3 my job.

Because it's not Burger King, it's not Starbucks, it's not washing dishes. And hey, if nothing else it's my industry, I'm suited for it, I know it backwards and forwards... it's a job I actually belong in. imagine that.


A Minor Incident

This afternoon, I was riding along in the jeep on my way to get pizza. And there was blinding sunlight, and a general cigarette smoke haze drifting through things and my brain was going all introspective on me. Everything turned into page one of a novel that would never be finished. A sure sign that the sinking feeling is riding into town. However a few minutes later I was sitting in a parking lot and there was this smiling face looking back at me from the drivers seat. And it was gone, it just stopped sinking. The world stopped wobbling like it does when i'm like that. I was back in my body, not sitting on the roof watching myself move and do things. That's NEVER happened before. I'm still kind of amazed at the fact that it's possible at all.

And I don't care if it ever happens again. I'd like that, but if next time I just slip into feeling bad for no reason, and nothing can stop it. That's fine. Knowing that it happened this one time would be enough to make it okay. Knowning that just this once, the mid-winter spring, and the chilly aftermath of winter trying to sneak back into the picture, and the perpetual tired, and the fact that morning feeling where my lungs tell me how much they hate me... didn't matter. And the irrational and fast oncoming feeling of general badness, just stopped. It's worth the world.

I've been smiling all fucking day.

There's nothing I could say to make you try and feel ok
And nothing you could do to stop me feeling the way I do
And if the chance should happen that I never see you again...


The Question of Euthanasia

For those of you that know Tyler, or have known Tyler. And for some of you, you may have known him most of his life... do the math. He's eleven. Now I'm well aware of how long a dog CAN live, but Tyler has been a running defective dog joke since about his 2nd birthday. And he is essentially defective and always has been. He's plagued by an extremely rare disease involving the group B muscles in his head and jaw. He's lived with a hypoactive thyroid for about five years now.

Now for the checklist.

Mobility - my dog still travels up and down stairs, though he rarely has to anyway. He's a little slower than he used to be, but he's allowed he's old. He's stiff in the mornings but jesus, so am I. But he doesn't hobble and when prompted he can still run a little.

Appetite/Eating - his appetite will never change. If nothing else, my dog can eat with the best of them. His jaw has been in good shape for years and he hasn't had any bouts with his disease where his jaw locks up for at least 3 or 4 years.

Breathing - While I don't know about every waking minute of the day I have no noticed any real change or difficulty in Ty's breathing. He seems to be find. When we do get the chance to go out and play he get winded a lot faster than he did when he was a puppy, but i don't have the energy i did when I was nine years old either. but on regular day to day standards, he breathes well as far as i'm aware.

Discomfort - Now, for anyone up to date, my dog has been battling a horrid ear infection for at least a year or two. We've stopped giving him antibiotics for it, the expense was getting rediculous and it just wasn't going away, there's a surgery for a couple thousand dollars that can fix the problem but at his age A) it's just not smart health wise and B) even if i had the money it would seem a bit of a waste seeing as even with it who knows how long he has left. Generally speaking he's not in unbearable pain over it, i mean i know it itches a lot, he spends a lot of time shaking his head back and forth which is a characteristic of doggy ear infections being itchy but he doesn't cry himself to sleep over it like he does when his jaw locks or when he gets his annoying stomach flus.

Incontinence - Well whilst my dog used to be the stud of being able to hold his bladder and colon. Times have changed. But he's still generally good at being able to make it outside. But now if no one lets him out, he doesn't bark and alert anyone that he has to go, he just gives up and goes in the garage. Which is getting really fucking annoying to be honest and it's hard to be sensitive about this part of the issue. But I'm sure he hates not being able to help it sometimes as much as i hate having to clean it up.

Mental Capacity - my dog is sharp as a tack. always has been. His hearing has been fucked with due to the infection, but his vision remains on a decent par while i do know he doesn't see as well as he used to... once again, neither do I. But he still responds to commands, remembers all his tricks and to a degree still enjoys his audiences when he get the chance to show off. He can still figure out the little puzzles i give him sometimes and well he's 50% border collie, he's supposed to have his wits about him. The workers of the border collie breed.. many of them herd in the field until the day they literally drop dead to the ground.

Happiness- this is the toughest one. My dog doesn't have the interest he used to in running around and playing fetch/frisbee in the backyard, and it's much harder to get him into a playful wrestling match. However the second i enter the room even if he just woke up, his tail springs to life and starts wagging and I can see the same puppy-esque sparkle in his eye. He appears bright eyed and bushy tailed and happy to see me... damn near excited sometimes. So it's hard to judge if he's really happy, because I don't see him when I'm not around, but he's always beyond delighted to see me, whether i've come with food in hand or not.

Response to Treatment - Okay so fair enough. The ear infection which started out simple was treated just as well as the other ones and it got better for awhile, and i thought it was gone, clearly it wasn't and it's returned and hasn't responded to anything yet. And that's all I have to base it on because in the last two years that's been the only new health problem that has arisen.

So from reading the checklist, he doesn't sound like he's in a condition that would necessarily be bad. Here's my worry. I'm leaving in April, I won't see Ty for six months. Or rather, he won't see me for six months. This dog goes insane when i'm gone for a weekend, let alone six months. This August I was gone for two weeks... by week two he was only eating half a bowl of food per meal and by the end of the week he'd nibble at it. He was moping around the garage and apparently snapped at both my parents when they tried to pet him, as well as did something (we don't know what) that scared the shit out of the cat and she didn't use the floor of the garage for about a week after i got back.

This all puts me in a position of not knowing what to do. It's probably impossible on my conscience to have him put down in his current state. But I also can't bear the thought of leaving him without me to get lonely, nervous and scared and crumble to pieces til he dies anyway because he stops eating. It's a huge dilemma. On one hand, he's had a good life and i'm kind of okay with the idea of him not being around much longer since his health even with me around will only hold out for another year or so, but maybe i'm wrong, maybe he's got three more years kicking in him, and then i'm going to leave him for six months and he's going to deteriorate metally so horribly that he'll only last a months or two anyway.

I am at a loss as to what i'm actually going to do, and I really wish i wasn't. I've never wanted to be able to confindently make a decision like this before. I just want the answer to be simple. I want to look at a healthy three year old dog... or a wobbly legged, asthmatic, cancer-ridden animal. Not this dottering inbetween deal that I have in front of me.


Coaxing, Death Chunks of Ice, and Metal Sticks

okay shitty title. let me enjoy.

so after exiting work today... all of my coworkers and myself decided to go out snowboarding together. After I piece by piece lost every last one of these coworkers I was out by myself for a run or so. Upon my arrival at the top of the lift shortly after however I ran into Krash and a friend from ski school that he was teaching to snowboard. For no particular reason the following conversation sprung from nowhere.

Krash : so you riding rails yet?
me (surprised at the notion that i was supposed to be trying this in the first place): uhh no, no can't say that's been in the mix.
K: well why not?
me (still semi-dumbfounded in the notion that i'd just be sliding around on these evil metal bars) : *shrug* scared maybe?
K: okay everyone we're going to the park.

Long story short, after a lot of coaxing and me trying to explain to him that he was on crack if he thought I was actually going to put myself throught the pain of learning this (metal hurts when it connects with your shins, I've learned this the hard way in the past)... I came, I slid, I landed, and in my own rough style, I conquered.

Now not that anyone besides me really cares about this, but it has made my day, possibly the rest of my week. I haven't accomplished anything new, actually i've never landed anything remotely tricky at all this season or most of last season.... so I'm beyond psyched about this feat. However, I did notice something else. Part of the reason I enjoy my time with Krash, both on and off hill is that he makes me feel extremely good about a lot of things that in most cases I'd be the only person that cared about. Riding my first rail, scoring free Poweraid on a regular basis, having the hotel over-night hook-up, first tracks on Wagner. It's a part of me that doesn't need noticed frequently but him and I seem to be in a position to be excited by similiar little things. We're extremely different people in about a thousand and two ways. But hanging around with Krash has never been less than good humored goofing off, snowboarding, and random fun... with the occasional visit of the Sci-Fi channel.

not that this description was necessary either, but I've been wondering for awhile why I spend the amount of time I do in Krash's prescence and tonight I pinned it. He makes me feel good about the accomplishments no one but me would care about otherwise. I get the most sincere praise I could imagine from a second party about the shit that would be dumb and insignificant to the bulk of the population and it's well if nothing else... it's refreshing.

Rambles and all,


It's Hard On a Girl When the Blood Won't Come...

... when it ought to come.

I'm bad at this. I never needed to know just how bad at this I am.

When I'm finished I'm done. When it all comes down I honestly will be the first to give-in. I have less of a backbone every day. This night keeps getting longer. And there are just times I wonder what the hell am I doing.

---- completing post... approx. 24 to 26 hours later.

So all of that being said. I can only try to be convincing for so long. I can only say things so many times til others just have to believe them or I'll just let it go and they'll never believe it and never understand. And granted I'm not there yet, far from it. But I've realized that someday... drunk or sober, he'll either believe me, or I'll give up. I'd prefer the first rather than the latter of the two. We'll see. But I just know how I am.

It's a reoccuring situation where I seem to find a lot of people in my life, that just don't understand how much I care. And maybe that's why Brian is hands down one of thee best friends I've got. And that's because he believes me, he understands just how much I give a shit. I care very deeply about a lot of people, most of them equally but it's so much easier on me when they just accept that I do care that much and can no longer find any reason to question it. And I understand why a lot of them don't. Because I've been there. It's hard to believe that anyone cares about you, especially when you have it in your own head that there's no reason they should. I know how that is ten fold. But that doesn't change the fact that it's just something this entire race needs to get over and just enjoy.

We accept the love we think we deserve.

That's a quote from The Perks of Being a Wallflower. (side note: it's a great book)... now I think the quote is incomplete... I mean I love that quote, I really do. But it's missing something. We accept the love we think we deserve... AND only that. We seem to refuse to accept anything that we can't see any way we've earned or deserve. For some reason I've gotten crafty at seeing past that and just taking what i've got at it's face value. I don't know when or how that happened. But I honestly believe that this is a catagorey I've mastered an art of doing.

I'm feeling a lot better about life in general today than I was last night. It's not a perfect mood, but it'll do. However, I still am trying to see through this bit of fog that's blurred things up between myself and a few people in my life. You know these things always seem to come in groups. You know I have one issue with one person and then the same or similiar problem duplicates itself with several more. It's truely getting sad. But it makes people problems simplier to deal with it all in one set of long thought processes I suppose.

Over and out,