At home

I've only been home for about four days and already I've covered the gamut of experiences I was looking for on my vacation. I met my new baby niece, Amber (photos to come), went snowboarding twice in Montana's notorious epic powder, watched my little brother throw a 360 on skis, went cross country skiing out my parent's back door, read my book, saw about 100 people from high school at the local bar, had appetisers and wine with the girls, played my mom's baby grand piano for hours and listened to my dad read the Christmas story. Now if my sister would only get here...

Lessons learned: I miss Montana.

I'll be home for Christmas

I'm headed off to Whitefish for Christmas...and New Years. It's the first time I've been home in a year and a half. I probably won't be updating this blog much, because I've resolved to spend very little time on the computer while on vacation. Hopefully I'll get to see any of you who are part of the old high school crew. Merry Christmas.

Counting down

Here are the top five reasons I need a vacation:

5. I wrote and called and interviewed and wrote, and yet, somehow, I only had two real stories that ran in the paper this week.
4. There is laundry hanging all over my apartment, dishes in my sink, wrapping paper in the middle of the living room — it's a mess. That's not all that unusual. The difference is, I don't care.
3. I've started two books in the past four months, and I'm only into the second chapter of both of them.
2. Wednesday night I was hanging out with some girls wrapping presents. I stuck some tape on my lip, kind of like when you put bobby pins in your mouth to hold them. Only, bobby pins don't rip the skin off your lip when you take then out to use them.

And the Number 1 reason:
I forgot my purse at the gym last night. That's like, say, forgetting my right hand. Then I went on to leave my oven on for about two hours.

Luckily, I am flying to Montana tomorrow to spend Christmas at home and hopefully get my sanity back.

Lesson learned: I need to sleep in, read my book and not write for 10 days straight.

In the spirit

The other night, some friends and I had another Christmas party — that makes about 15 for the season so far. This was one of those heinous Christmas theme parties. We all wore gaudy Christmas sweaters and bells. Or in my case, antlers with bells, a big bow on my butt, a Christmas tree turtle neck, knee high red and green socks, and slippers with reindeers on the toes. I even had these huge silver ornaments as earrings.

I won't lie, I was pretty heinous. I could have been one of Santa's elves. I even won the contest.

And in some sort of garish holiday fluke, my friend Justin was dressed to match — we both wore a quilted Christmas vest and jean. He just didn't look as ridiculous as I did. Too bad.

Lesson learned: My tree has nothing on me.

Christmas? check.

I've finished all of my Christmas shopping, which is nothing short of a Christmas miracle. Usually, I'm one of those who does it all the way up to Dec. 24. Well, it's done, and now I can focus on cramming all the work I can into this week before I leave for Montana on Saturday. I'm counting down the days.

Lessons learned: Why haven't I done it this way before?

Tired

I have a headache in my face. Is that even possible?

Today, I worked on five different stories, three of which were about traumatic events. Switching concentrations so often and so rapidly breeds a unique kind of exhaustion.

Thank God Grey's Anatomy is on tonight. Fake tragedy is easier to take.

Lessons learned: I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said, "I had a life, but my job ate it." So that's what happened to it.

Let it snow

It's raining! Not just the pathetic drizzle we have had maybe twice this winter. Actual full size rain drops that collect on the streets — like the good old days when I first moved here and everything was flooding. It's funny, when you haven't seen it like this for awhile, you forget what it's like. You forget how it soaks the bottom of your pants and what it sounds like on a rooftop. I had to concentrate on not letting the onslaught of drops splashing on the pavement hypnotize me on the way home from Sarah's tonight.

It renews hope that there could be a ski season on the horizon. I was thinking that I was going to resort to washing my car for this to happen. (See this previous post.) It's only supposed to rain through Saturday, though, so the drought could be back.

Lessons learned: Maybe I will get to snowboard soon. Maybe I won't.

Rider Tunes

My friend, Jesse, from college has started up a Web site worth browsing. It's sister to a site he started awhile back at www.skimoviemusic.com. I wrote about it at the time. Anyway, the new one is www.ridertunes.com. (For some reason, my blog isn't letting me link to outside sites, Sorry.) It has a list of all the songs on various snowboard vidoes released in past years. You can click on the songs and download them from iTunes. The first site is how I discovered that I really like Sweat Shop Union. Check it out.

Deck the halls

I think I may have found the perfect Christmas tree. I've always been big fan of decorating for the holidays. I miss my family's traditions, but I have tried to make due since I've been away. This year, Jenn S., her husband Paul, their baby Riley, Justin and Sarah's friend Rachel came over to help me put it up and decorate. And of course, we had hot chocolate.

After a minor set back it getting the nails out of the bottom of the tree — which I won't disclose except to say that Justin broke my hammer — we draped it in lights, garland, ornaments and tinsel. Jenn was there last year to watch my process. "I mean this in the nicest way possible, but it looked like Christmas threw up on your tree," she said. Well, she hadn't seen my tree this year yet.

Lesson learned: Riley likes garland.

Dodging rocks

The warm weather has allowed me to sneak in a few bike rides that I haven't gotten a chance to do this season so far. There is a ride here up to the top of a peak about 30 miles from where I live. It's a cool 13 miles uphill to the top, then another six or seven downhill. The downhill isn't just a cruise through rolling hills either. It basically consists of dropping down steps, dodging rocks and hovering behind the seat of your bike trying not to go over the handlebars over granite rollers.

I did it once last year, but I've never gone back until today. I went with Steve, my regular riding buddy; Paul, Jenn S.'s husband; and Paul's brother Justin.

It was nearly balmy when we started, so I had to peel off the four layers I had on within the first two miles on the way up. They all went back on in the last two toward the top.

Few groups ever do this ride without someone crashing at least once on the way down. I went down first, then Paul crashed, so I didn't have to be the only one. I made it through with just a bruise on my thigh. Not bad.

Lessons learned: I need practice on the technical stuff.

Growing up fast

The Friday after Thanksgiving, our town holds its annual Christmas parade. This is a small town at its best — everyone in town packs onto the city's main street, people sell hot chocolate at stands, and classic cars, fire trucks and dancers stroll down the road waving.

I went with my friends Jenn, Renee, Jess and Jess daughter, Emma. A parade is much more fun with children, who always point out what we as adults take for granted.

Afterwards, Renee, Jess and Emma came over for macaroni and cheese and wine — the former being for Emma and the latter for the rest of them. As for me, I had both. We were sitting there as Emma ate her noodles out of a pink plastic bowl, andit came up that she will be starting school next year, since she turns five in February.

"I can't wait until I am an adult and don't have to go to school anymore," she said. I pointed out how once she's an adult, she will have to work instead. She countered that no, she is just going to stay home with the children. (She's four and she's already hating school and planning a family).

"They have a shop at the hospital where you can go get a baby," she continued.

Lessons learned: So that's where babies come from.

Giving thanks

I spent my Thanksgiving with my friend Sarah's family. Like I said in an earlier post, they take me in on most holidays. We ate early, with the usual favorites. I never had sweet potatoes with marshmallows when I was growing up, and I've decided that is my new favorite.

After pie, we worked on a puzzle that initially I resolved not to participate in. Puzzles are not my forte, and working on one is usually more infuriating than fun. But I gave in and managed put contribute to the union of 17 pieces. I now have a strategy.

Lesson learned: I'm thankful for Sarah and her family.

Please sign right here

Amid the reams of junk mail I get in my work e-mail, I get a steady stream of press releases from various organizations or interest groups. Some tout the latest book on alternative treatments for autism, others want me to call a certain doctor about new techniques for brushing your teeth, while still others give me the latest on an appearance the governor made at the some convention, all with the hope I'll jump on writing a story about it.

But one I got earlier this week caught my eye. It was from a nonprofit organization that is encouraging all of those who may be hosting a Thanksgiving dinner to make sure to have an obesity waiver available at your door and require guests to sign it. The waiver could protect you from lawsuit if someone sues you because they pigged out at your party and gained a few pounds. Among the list of grounds for such a suit could be 1. Failure to provide nutritional information, 2. Failure to warn of potential for overeating because the food tastes too good and is provided at no cost. 3. Failure to offer "healthier alternatives" vegetarian tofurkey. They even had a link where you could find such a form.

Wow. What's next?

Lessons learned: Nothing is my fault. At least that's what society tells me.

Still swinging

Steve and I played tennis last night. I've decided it's a great way to clear your head before the work week begins. They just resurfaced the courts where we play, so no more trying to judge which way the ball will shoot off the circuit of cracks that used to blanket them. There are lights there, so we we often go at night and hit around. As usual, we both had our glory shots that we would impress ourselves with, then turned around to lob one really long or smack it into the net. "That's what separates us from the pros," Steve said. For me, I think it might be more than that.

Lesson learned: Someday I will make it through a night without hitting a ball over the fence. Last night was not that night.

Pray for Sue

On Thursday night, Sarah told me news that no one wants to ever tell about one of their parents. Her mom, Sue, was just diagnosed with cancer, which was a shock because she has been healthy. Fortunately, they don't think the cancer has spread, so she has a surgery scheduled for Wednesday.

Sarah's parents have become my surrogate family here in Sonora. They're who I spend my holidays with when I'm not visiting my own family. They go to the same church as us. They host dinners and lunches and parties. Jenn S. and I started calling them mom and dad. So when I heard about Sue, it broke my heart.

Even more difficult is the fact that Sarah is suffering through her own illness. She's always been really strong about it, at least outwardly. But I know it must be hard to find the extra energy to cope with this.

So today, I helped Sarah into her parent's house, so that she can be there to help care for her mom as she goes through this process. When we got to her parent's house, Sue was camped out on the couch, protesting the shows on the Lifetime station she was watching. I gave her a card and a hug. It was her who took my face in her hands and told me she loved me and that everything happens for a reason.

Lesson learned: I guess strength runs in the family.

k is for krag

Last night Dan and I squared off in a cut throat game of Scrabble. Well okay, if it was cut throat, my game was the throat and Dan held the knife.

According to my job title, I'm a wordsmith. I am supposed to be good at this game. And maybe against anyone else, I might have held my own. But it's difficult to hang with someone whose average score was about 25 points a word. He was constantly throwing down words on double word scores that allowed him to collect points horizontally as well as vertically reaching into the 30-point echelon.

He failed to tell me beforehand, that when it comes to spelling, he is basically a prodigy. He also owns four different versions of this game. So I could write him off as a big dork, but I can't help being impressed.

Meanwhile, while I may have an uncanny ability to correct comma placement and weed out passive voice, I'm a terrible speller. Chris, one of my editors at work, takes endless delight in pointing out where synonyms of very different meaning than intended have slipped into my stories. There are times when it is so bad, it reaches levels of absurdity.

Last night, I attempted to spell crag, "krag." I misspelled the very first word I put down. I believe it was "goad." These are four-letter words, folks. This is what I'm talking about.

To be fair, there is more to this game than spelling. It does take some creativity too, which maybe I could work on.

Lesson learned: I had better get out the flash cards before I take on Dan in Scrabble again. Maybe they have openings in the fifth-grade spelling class at the local elementary school.

Season finales

I spent this weekend trying to squeeze the last good weather from the season by taking a couple bike rides. It is definitely getting chillier. And by that, I mean there were moments I worried hypothermia was only a few snowflakes away.

Saturday morning I woke up what I would consider early for a Saturday morning. My neighbor, Lisa, and I drove to a nearby area and road up a steep paved road known for its hair-pin curves. Its one of those rides that you love only afterward. I'm glad I did it, though, and I'm up for trying it again. It was warm on the way up, but bone chilling on the way back down with the wind blowing by.

Sunday, I went up the hill with my new friend, Dan. He rides in Davis, where he lives part time, so of course, I had to prove that there is some good riding here. It rained the night before and cleared up just in time. The slick trail just added one more element of challenge. It was beautiful as usual. I had uncontrollable shivers by the time we were done, but they were so worth it.

Lesson learned: I need to switch to a sport where I can wear a sleeping bag for clothing. (So hopefully it snows soon.)

Payback ala crazy

Our paper, like many smaller ones do, publishes items from the police logs. They vary from small stuff like burglaries to funny items about the crazy stuff that people do in our area. (I've written about this before).

It also includes a list of all the felony bookings and the names of people arrested for DUI. I get the occasional caller who wants us to hold their name from the list. So I give them my spiel about how it's our policy to name all offenders and, in the interest of fairness, we can't make exceptions.

But I've never had anyone ask why they weren't listed. Until today.

This guy called today to tell me he called police four times between last Thursday to Saturday, and nothing he reported made the paper. He told me he was "robbed" of $400 (It turns out his wife had $400 and she wouldn't give him $200). Then he said a well contractor overcharged him. Finally he got in a fight with his wife about how he was going to report the incident with the well contractor and ended up arrested on spousal abuse charges.

In my best fake professional voice while holding back laughter, I explained to him that we don't publish domestic or civil abuse reports from the police logs in our paper. And his arrest didn't make it because it was a misdemeanor (Guess he'll have to make it a felony next time). I couldn't help but ask why he wanted this stuff published.

He replied, "Because I want to scare my wife under the bed."

Lesson learned: Passive aggression knows no bounds.

War wounds

I was curled up on my couch last night dutifully doing my Bible study homework when my door bell rang. I answered it to see my neighbor and coworker, Rebecca, gasping in pain with a bloody towel wrapped around her hand.

She was attempting to fix her tread mill when it started up and caught her finger in the belt. It tore off her finger nail and a little skin along with it.

She had come over because she couldn't look at it herself and she was unsure what to do. I swallowed some nerves and took a look, then gave her some ice and a painkiller.

I'm generally okay with scratches or other minor injuries, but this was definitely stretching my comfort zone. So I did what I always do when I have a health question: call my sister, the family nurse. She didn't answer her phone.

It was Rebecca who thought of our other neighbor Lisa, who is also a nurse. Thank God she was home. She swooped in with a bag full of gloves, bandages and other supplies and bandaged Rebecca up without blinking.

At one point, as Rebecca was sitting their bleeding profusely, the thought that came to my mind was, "How is she going to type?" I chided myself for being insensitive, but felt a little better when she asked the same question about 30 seconds later. We are slaves to our job.

Lesson learned: Good thing I'm not a nurse.

Baby pics

I just got the first pictures of my new baby neice Amber Lynn. So I may be just a bit biased, but I think she is the most beautiful baby ever born.

Showing off

A college friend, Jesse, came to visit this weekend. He is on a road trip through a few Western states, and I was lucky enough to be one of the stops.

Jesse is one of the original Knowles Hall Mafia, which is what we coined our hall in the dorms freshman year. Half the hall was girls, and half were guys. It made for some epic water fights and a steady stream of practical jokes. Anyway, Jesse and I have managed to stay friends all this time.

He and I have the same weakness for the outdoors, so I had to show off my area a bit. The minute he got out of the car I dragged him out for a game of ultimate frisbee. Saturday, we did one of my regular mountain biking trails. And Sunday we went on a hike near Tuolumne Meadows in Yosemite. I had to make him work off all that beer I know he's been drinking on his other stops. We were really lucky with the weather — it was sunny and warm every day.

Jesse impressed me by making me stir fry from scratch after we got back Sunday night. Who knew he could cook?

Lesson learned: Jesse can still keep up, three years later.

Happy Birthday Dad

It was my dad's birthday on Saturday. I won't reveal just how old he turned. Let's just say he's younger than my grandfather and older than me.

I hoped when I called he'd be preparing to go off on an epic bike ride or taking a nap — both some of his favorite passtimes. But he was on his way to Costco to buy his new baby granddaughter a stroller. That's my dad for you — buying other people presents on his birthday. He was excited about this stroller too, explaining it's many features like it's detachable wheels. (Don't ask me why that is cool. Seriously, what good is a stroller without wheels?). He told me in feigned earnesty that he plans to go get the tires "foamed" so that he could take the baby mountain biking with him. "But her mother is kind of overprotective," he said.

Lesson learned: Aging doesn't have to mean growing old.

Dusting off those super powers

When it comes to Halloween, I believe there is nothing wrong with recycling. I say that because I didn't have it together enough to get a costume this year with me being out of town. So I just resurrected my Wonder Woman costume, which I wore two years ago. I figured it's a great excuse to wear knee high boots, a cape and big gold earrings.

It was still as fun this year as it was the last time I wore it. There was a Halloween party on Saturday night that I went to with a friend, Katy. For some reason, it drew the entire population of 20-somethings in our area, and then some. I even met a new friend.



Last night I went to a party with a friend who I work with. This was a little quieter, but still fun.

Lesson learned: Wonder Woman can be blond.

A little embedded journalism

Despite the fact that I completely disappeared from this blog after I wrote my last post while covering the fires in Southern California, I did make it home safely.

There were points I thought I was going to die. Not from getting burned over, but of exhaustion. I was up at 4 a.m. each day, I worked 35 hours in two days and I drove more than 1,000 miles on the whole trip.

My second day was a lot more interesting than the first. I ended up hooking up with a local strike team and heading out to the fireline. The battalion chief was nice enough to just let me come in his truck instead of having to be babysat by a spokesperson.

It was pretty amazing to watch these commercial-jet sized tankers making retardant drops. We would all stand there looking up till the red haze hung in the air, then duck down behind a tree to try and keep at least the front of our Nomex clean. We got slimmed about a half dozen times, to the point where I don't think my back could have started on fire if I went and stood in it.

I went back to the base and wrote my story with retardant caked in my hair. I could taste and smell it the rest of the day until I was able to take a shower that night.

The whole trip was one of the hardest things I've done for my job thus far, mostly because I was on the move constantly. I never knew what what was next or where I was going to sleep that night. But it was worth it. I learned a lot.

Lesson learned: There is nothing like a shower and pizza after a day on a fire.

Chasing flames

I'm on my 15th hour of covering a fire near Escondido, one of the 16 fires burning in San Diego. Somehow, that doesn't seem like enough time for what I'm trying to do. Right now I'm waiting for a snail-slow Internet connection to attach photos I'm sending to the paper I work for.

The really sad thing is, after driving a total of about 10 hours to get here, none of those photos contain a bit of fire. I drove around with a public information officer for five hours today from one group of firefighters to the next and we never found any.

I'm off to go look for more.

Lesson Learned: Just because 400,000 acres is burning, doesn't mean you can find it.

New arrival

I am an aunt!

My little sister, Tesla, had a baby girl, 5 pounds, 13 ounces. She named her Amber Lynn.

I'm actually a little late on this. She had the baby two weeks ago. But she was early, so I wouldn't be that behind if she had arrived on time, right?

I talked to Tes today, who sounded so grown up taking about breast feeding, playpens and how the special the baby is to her. Then she compared giving birth to "taking a million-dollar dump." Crude, yes, but Tes says it like it is. I laughed for like five minutes.

My mom was picking Tes and Amber up so they could go to my parent's house to make applesauce. Those of you who know my family might see a little irony in that.

Mom was trying to get her baby holding time in before they got home, since apparently my dad hogs her. I think that is the sweetest thing I have ever heard. It's a little surreal to think of my parents as grandparents.

I'm going home for Christmas, so I'll get so see my little niece then. I can't wait.

Lesson learned: Having a baby changes everything.

Still breathing

Every Thursday night I have Bible study with a few friends of mine. There are technically five of us, but usually four make it.

Those girls are lifesavers.

The Bible study part of our Bible study is amazing. We learn a lot, and the author of the study, Beth Moore, never fails to amaze me with her insight. But that's not the only thing it is about. Tonight we had decided to make potatoes out of the blue, then sat and talked before we watched our video. I think I laughed more in that hour than I have in the past week.

It was a tough one, but these girls are a breath of fresh air when it feels like I'm suffocating in a room full of smoke. We listen to each other's dramas, tell each other honestly what we think, then somewhere we find the humor in it.

Lesson learned: Potatoes make great therapy.

Sway back

Each year our county holds a health fair so all the older people can go and get free medical screenings for things such as bone density, hearing and oral health. The older people and me. Because I am a hypochondriac.

This year I stopped by to get a second opinion from a dentist. While I was waiting, I noticed one of the booths was a chiropractor with some sort of spine scanner thingy. He would point the gun-like device at places on along your spine. Different bars of color appeared on a screen on either side of an image of a spine, indicating if yours is in alignment. Green short bars are good. Red bars are bad. The longer they are, the worse it is.

I decided to try it out of curiosity, since I've had both back and neck injuries. I watched as he did it to an tiny hunched over older lady in front of me. She had some short red bars, and he told her she might want to get her spine checked out. I figured that my reading would be about the same, because though I am young I was injured. It wasn't.

The bars near my neck were nearly off the charts red. My lower back didn't look to healthy either, with red bars extending from the lower right and upper left. The chiropractor was speechless, till he finally said, "Wow you really need to figure out what the source of the stress in your life is."

Some guy in the line said, "You'd better give her your card."

I took it as an excuse to book a massage, and skipped my workout today to go. It was great stress relief.

Lesson learned: Maybe I should take up yoga. Or maybe I should retire to a convent in Italy.

New moves

I think everyone has heard the old pick up line about the quarter, the one about space pants, and even the overplayed, but somewhat endearing one, "You must be tired because you've been running through my head all night long."

My friend, Ben, has come up with his very own, and I have to say, it made me laugh. Which is a good sign, for those of you on the line-doling end.

He just gets really close to the girl, say about three inches, and says, "Let me know when this gets uncomfortable." He tried it on a girl he was hanging out with last weekend, and he got a smile and a kiss on the cheek out of it.

Lesson learned: Quirky works.

Climb on

On it's face, rock climbing is kind of a strange sport. You rig up a some complicated system of robes and metal devices so that you can scale a vertical wall. And once you get to the top, you just come right back down again. How anyone came up with all this is beyond me. But such is many kinds of sports.

And it's so much fun.

Some friends and I went to Yosemite on Saturday to give it a go. I have climbed on and off throughout the years, mostly pretty beginner stuff, so I was definitely the novice of the group. But I did manage — with a little more help than is customary from my friend who belayed me — to get up a two-pitch climb. (Belaying is what the other person at the top or the bottom does. It's basically feeding a rope through a device that they can use to stop the rope if you fall). (Oh and pitches are stretch of rock that you climb before tying off and starting over with the end of the rope). LIkely, if you don't know what I'm talking about, none of that made any sense.

There is something about getting to the top after working so hard to make it, with your muscles screaming and sweat steaming up your sun glasses. Anyway, it was a learning experience, and I'm sore today.

Lesson learned: The side of a rock wall is a great vantage point to see Yosemite Valley from.

Awestruck

I've heard many people say that Dave Matthew's is better live than he is on his CDs. I had to see it to believe it, but it's true.

I think that might have been the best concert I've ever been to. From the guy on the fiddle to the drum player to Dave's own brilliance, they held my attention for the full two hours.

If you haven't seen him, get your ticket.

Lesson learned: I've been missing out.

I'm on my way, Dave

I've planned to go see the Dave Mathews Band three times before. It's never happened.

This weekend, I have a ticket to see him at Shoreline near San Jose. My and four friends are packing up and heading to San Francisco tonight. The concert is Saturday night.

I'm really excited, you just can't tell because you can't hear my voice right now. Really, I'm yelling this with glee.

Lessons learned: Dreams do come true.

Plans foiled

Yesterday, I was supposed to be on my bike, in a line of about six others, weaving on a single track trail from the top of a peak down to where I live.

It was a 50-mile trek that I and others spent about three weeks planning. We had drivers to take us up there. My friend Jenn had offered to be one, and then make us dinner when we got back. She had a babysitter for her new baby in the morning while she drove. Everyone knew where they were meeting and what they needed.

I was like a kid on Christmas Eve.

The only thing we didn't have nailed down was the weather. And of course, that was the one big thing that could thwart our plans. When I woke up at 6:30 a.m. on Saturday, my frined and coworker, Amy, called to to tell me she had heard it was pouring rain and lightening in the high country. Ironically, it hasn't rained in the past five months, and both Friday and Sunday were precipitation free.

So we bagged the whole thing, and Steve and I went to breakfast to mourn.

We did take a shorter ride today to try and make up for it. It was fun, and the ditch is more beautiful than ever, but I can't help but still be a little sad our plans didn't work out.

Lesson learned: The weather is such a buzz kill sometimes.

Off the hook

For a year I had a land line, but no phone. (It was for my DSL mostly).

It took my cell phone breaking for a day for me to finally go out and get one. I even got a slightly fancy one — you know, a mobile one with buttons that light up and 40 different rings and wings that will fly it to you when it rings. But not that I actually have one, I'm wondering what the point is.

I have only had one person that I know call me. Two of the other calls have been wrong numbers and four have been automated telemarketers.

The latter cracks me up. There's little chance I might sign up for that credit card anyway, but that falls into the negative numbers when the pitch comes from a robot. At least they're easier to hang up on.

Lesson learned: My knew phone does come in handy when I lose my cell phone, which happens all the time.

Eating garbage

If you think vegan is extreme, check this out. People called Freegan seek to not use money at all. Their argument is that while vegans' efforts to boycott products that harm animals is noble, they are still supporting companies that do equally unethical things.

One of the ways they do that is by dumpster diving at stores and other businesses. They say they find discarded food there that is perfectly clean and eatable. To each his own, I guess.

Lesson learned: Good for them for reducing waste, but I might stick to eating expired foods in my own refrigerator.

Health nut

It's fitness challenge time again, and I'm back at drinking lake-sized amounts of water, eating vegetables like a herbivore and spending extra time at the gym.

Like I explained when I participated last year, the fitness challenge is where teams from businesses and organizations in our area compete to have the most healthy habits. Certain things, like exercise, eating vegetables, taking a multivitamin and getting eight hours of sleep are assigned points, which participants keep track of daily.

It's supposed to make you think about adding healthy habits to your daily routine. Of course, the added element of competition makes people, including me, take it too far. Last year I was captain and got really to into it, so this year I resolved to take a milder approach. Of course, that only lasted the first week — after I saw everyone else's point scores.

I actually traded weight lifting the other day for running because I get more points for it. I'm drinking so much water I'm visiting the bathroom ever five minutes. And don't get me started about fruits and vegetables. (A friend of mine at the gym suggested I bring some vegetables to eat while I'm working out, but I haven't reached that level of insanity yet. Maybe in week three.)

I don't think I will eat any fruit or vegetables for weeks after this is over. I'll trade them for all the deserts I'm skipping.

Lesson learned: If I really want to be fit, I just shouldn't participate.

Sleuthing

I had some pretty big breakthroughs on my shooting coverage this week. I think I wrote about this before, but there was a man killed when a friend of his allegedly shot him at home near Sonora, then dumped the body in a ravine. I'm not sure how much I should write about it, because I worry that I'm going to go and get my self subpoenaed.

That aside, I did get to do what I really love this week, which is a lot of in-depth interviews and investigating. The downside is it requires a lot of working. I am a little relieved its the weekend and I can relax.

Lesson learned: When asking for court records, ask for them in three different ways.

Memory loss

I've always wondered if I would go insane some day, considering I have a lot of the elements of those who do. I'm a musician. A writer. I dabble in craziness occasionally.

It's official. I think my brain has given up, and it's finally happening. Today I was sending a Birthday Card to my little brother — who just turned 14. (Yeah, that's hard enough to take on its own). But as I was writing out the address on the envelope, I completely spaced the post office box number.

This is the same number I had for 15 years while I was growing up. And I have sent things there for years since. Never for one second in my life have I ever had problems remembering it.

But this morning, it was just gone. I kept saying combinations of numbers trying to fish it out of the cabinets of my mind. But in the end, I had to look it up on a people search online, mostly because I was too embarrassed to call my parents and ask them what my very own address for years was. They can laugh at me when they're reading this and I'm not there.

Lesson learned: I think I'm suffering from early onset Alzheimer's. Very early.

No labor

I almost had the all-American Labor Day weekend. It consisted of going to a lake, a barbecue and an attempted camping trip.

The latter is why I say almost. A friend and I tried to meet up with a group that was camping at a river about a hour away. We drove down there but never found them — probably because we didn't get down there until 10 p.m.

But otherwise, it was nice to relax. The lake we went to was great, and I had a cat nap in the sun. I needed it after sort of a crazy week. I'm not ready for summer to be over.

Lesson learned: People are easier to find in the daytime.

Paddling along

Today was my last day in the Masters swim program. This is the "adult swim team" I joined for the summer. It's kind of expensive when combined with my regular gym membership, and I can't go more than twice or three times a week, so I decided to just do it for three months.

I really like it and am sad to have to stop. It's been fun to feel myself getting better throughout the summer. Swimming really makes you learn about your body's strengths and weaknesses.

My arms are awfully wimpy, while my legs are stronger. My freestyle, which I always considered my strongest stroke, is just average. But my backstroke isn't bad surprisingly.

It will be getting cooler soon anyway, so it would be hard to swim anyway.

Lesson learned: My breast stroke still needs some work.

Swamped

You think I'd be tired of writing considering how much of it I did this week. But here I am.

There was a murder, a car accident, a body found and a horse accident last weekend, which sent me into a writing frenzy from Sunday afternoon till now. I wrote six stories in 24 hours. I worked 12 hours today. And I'm gearing up for more fun tomorrow.

In fact, I really should be finishing up my eighth story this week right now. I'm procrastinating.

Despite my whining, I am actually enjoying it. We don't get crazy stories like the bizzare murder I'm covering now. It involves a shooting, a car being crashed into a ravine and a body that was missing until today.

Lesson learned: Big news comes in storms.

Runk and Willow go hiking

I'm way late on this, but I'm going to write it anyway. When you meet deadlines at work everyday, it's hard to meet your own for a blog.

But last weekend, by friend Anna came to visit. Like I said in my previous blogs, she's one of my best friends. We met in high school and it had been awhile. Anyway, we made up for lost time.

Anna's visit, day 1: I tend to take people who visit to this swimming hole where a river cuts through some caves. It's close, it's pretty amazing and not that many people are usually. there.


Anna's visit, day 2: We upped the activity level the next day, hiking Half Dome in Yosemite. It's a 16.4 mile hike that's rated "extremely strenuous." The last bit, you have to pull yourself up a rock face by cables, which are posted in the rock on either side of you.

Being the great friend that I am, I neglected to remember that Anna has a certain fear of heights. She was shaking so hard I thought she was going to rattle right off the cables. At one point, she panted, "This is like having a baby." But she was a trooper and make it to the top and back down.


Anna's visit, day 3: After the marathon day we had, we decided to sleep in an go find a swimming hole. Then we got ice cream.


Anna's visit, day 4: We headed up to Sonora Pass for a hike that a friend recommended to me. It was pretty dramatic up there, and really quiet.


Anna left on Monday night, after a quick stop to a nearby reservoir. It went by too quick, but I think we managed to catch up on the past three years.

Lesson learned: I need to call Anna more often.

Arriving soon

My best friend from high school is coming to visit tonight. In fact, I should be driving to go pick her up at the airport, but her flight was delayed.

I wrote a blog entry about Anna awhile back, one of the last times I saw her.

It's been three years since I graduated from college, and neither one of us has been to see each other. Our reunions are usually when we both head home to Montana for holidays. But only about a month ago, I told her I wanted her to come, and she said OK. Then she bought her ticket. See I told you she was the best.

Lesson learned: Flight punctuality and excitement are inversely proportionate.

Keeping tradition

Last weekend I went to visit my mom in the Tahoe area to see a Shakespeare play, in our yearly tradition. Actually I think last year's was one of my blog posts. It's crazy to think it's been a year already.

As usual, the play was fantastic. We saw Taming of the Shrew. It was set in the traditional time, but there were all this misplaced references to pop-culture embedded in the story line. For example, Bianca was completely dressed in pink and wore white sunglasses. She answered her cell phone "Good morrow."

I think the stars are brighter when you are sitting in the sand on Lake Tahoe.

The great thing about that area is that at any given time, there are always people bike riding — whether it's road, bike or mountain — on the road. And most drivers, probably because they are bikers themselves, don't try to run you off the road like they do where I live.

We also took our own bike ride, on a windy trail that leads to a reservoir. The whole trip is about 30 miles, which isn't out of the realm of what I usually do. Maybe it was the wine we drank the night before, maybe it was that the last ten miles were all up hill, or maybe I'm out of biking shape, but I was exhausted afterwards. It was still fun. Mom and I played the movie game (like the name game but with movie titles) for about three hours.

Lessons learned: There aren't many movies that begin with "K."

My very first drug bust

Yesterday, I was sitting in the cockpit of a helicopter, with headphones covering my ears as the pilot hit a bunch of switches thinking, "Wow, I get to do a lot of crazy stuff because of my job."

Case in point was yesterday's marijuana drug bust. Our county has a team of officers, who along with state agents, go out to destroy marijuana plantations. I met them at 6 a.m. at their office, and they brought me a long for one such bust.

Many of the grows, as they call them, are too secluded to access easily, so they clip the agents into a cord that hangs from a helicopter and fly them in two at a time. It's called short-hauling, and it looks both terrifying and really fun at the same time.


I didn't get to short-haul, of course, because you have to be trained and certified or whatever, but they did take me up in a helicopter to see the garden from above. I thought I would freak out once I got up in the air, but I felt strangely secure.


The rest of the time, I just watched them work. It's pretty amazing what they do.

Lesson learned: Don't step on the short line cable, it will cost you $5. Luckily, that's a lesson that it only took hearing for me to learn.

Summer nights

I love summer. I want it to last forever. I say that knowing perfectly well that I don't really mean it. It's just nights like this that I have that short-lived wish. I just got home from barbecuing at my friends Jenn and Paul's house.

We sat outside under an umbrella and had shish kabobs, rice and fruit. Sarah and I took turns holding Paul and Jenn's new baby, Riley, and helping her in the kitchen. It was all very grown up.

But tonight was one of those where it was the perfect temperature to sit outside in a short-sleeved shirt after the sun went down. It was fun for the Jenn, Sarah and I to be together again after a hiatus. We haven't hung out like that since last summer, or at least fall, when Jenn and Paul's lives was very different. They didn't have a house or a baby then.

Holding a baby at this stage in life for me is a funny mix of "Wow, I'm not ready for this" and entertaining thoughts of what it would be like to have one. This is why I might leave it to friends to have kids for a little while longer. I can come hold them and feed them and bounce them for awhile, then give them back.

Lesson learned: Riley is great, but I like his mom best.

Fighting fire, jailbird style

In what seems like a theme this week, I went out to the prison today for a feature on the area firefighting inmate camps. I think whoever came up with the idea to employ inmates to fight fire for $1 an hour is pretty brilliant. They actually have it pretty cush compared to the greater inmate population. They have a weight area, basketball court, TV room, their laundry done for them, chefs to make their meals, a game room, etc. Yep, it's pretty much like summer camp for convicts.

Then again, they put in some pretty long hours doing community service projects and fighting 100-foot flames. That might not be so luxurious.

Lesson learned: Don't do crime. It's not worth it.

Riding along

I had my first police ride-a-long last weekend. From 8 p.m. to 6 a.m. Friday and Saturday I was Deputy Paul's new best friend. I was a little disappointed that there were no high speed chases or Taserings. Am I a bad person for wanting someone to commit a crime just so I can witness the arrest?

Anyway, it was interesting to see police work in action. I was there for a burglary investigation and a drug arrest. I also spent a considerable amount of time in the hospital waiting for the deputy to follow up on a few cases. It's amazing how it can be crazy one moment and boring the next.

Lessons learned: Just don't do crime. It's not worth it.

Living on the lake

Utah has it's charms. And of them is called Lake Powell. I have never been there before last week. And I already want to go back.

The thing that's amazing is, after we caravanned the about 40 miles from the boat ramp and set up camp in one of the million canyons that spider off from the main channel, there's barely anyone there. I love the remoteness of it, the red rock and the emerald water.

The toys we had lugged along read like a certain Christmas carol: one large tube, two speedboats, three kayaks, four jet skis and five coolers full of food.

Here are the top ten things about visiting the lake

1. Hiking, swimming and climbing in the slot canyons and scrambling up to arches.





2. Learning to wakeboard.


3. Crawling through the swimthoughs.


4. Being on a jet ski behind one of the crazy boys.


5. Sleeping under the stars on the top of the houseboat.


6. Sitting on the back of the houseboat at dusk.


7. Playing rummy with the girls.

8. Living in our swimsuits.


9. Drinking mimosas and beer — both at the same time.



10. Laying on a boat in the sun.


There are more, but I won't rub it in. Notice how tubing is not on this list. The picture of me smiling is before the ride.


Lessons learned: I want to go back. Can I Ben?

Road trip

Before I launch into my adventures at Lake Powell, I have to take a moment to tell you about the epic journey to get there.

Before I do that, you have to know something about my friend Ben, who happened to be our driver. Ben is the ultimate consumer. He is the boy they talk about when they say "boys and their toys." He could fund a small third world country on what he spends in a year. He will buy the best of everything, from a Galilean Thermometer to a robotic vacuum cleaner to a TV the size of a movie theater screen.

Case in point: Ben decides to buy a speed boat. He told me that he probably should have bought the 19-foot boat, but it was just that the 22-foot one would be so cool. What did he do? He bought one that was 23 feet long. The problem was that his massive, gas-guzzling Chevy Tahoe couldn't manage to haul this beast of a vessel. So the only possible solution was to buy a new truck. And when I say truck, I mean a vehicle that makes a Hummer look like a golf cart and gets mistaken for a semi.

Anyway, back to the story. So I arrived in Denver at midnight on a Friday night and met Ben, his cousin Sam and his friend Elisa. (By the way, this is after I almost missed my flight because the airline I was using had posted the wrong sign for the line I was supposed to be in. Luckily, about 20 other people made the same mistake, so they held the flight while we went through the longest security line ever).

We were only about an hour and a half outside of Denver when things got a little bumpy. Sam, and I consoled Ben that it was probably just a rough patch in the road, but he got out to check the trailer anyway. Nothing. We continued on, and all of a sudden things smoothed out, lending credence to our road explanation. Meanwhile, we passed a semi truck and smelled burning rubber as he braked while decending down from a pass. "Sucks for that guy," someone said.


A half hour later, Sam asked to stop, so we pulled over at a gas station. By this time, it was about 2:30 a.m. I was walking by the truck when I did a double take at one of the tires on the trailer. It was completely stripped of any rubber and was sitting on its rim. We discovered that somehow the back metal covering had bent forward and ate into the tire. That was when it was bumpy. It smoothed out after the rim sheaded its rubber coat. And yes, that burning rubber smell? It was us.

The boys took to trying to bend the metal back into place, ignoring Elisa and my pleas to just wait for AAA. They had very few tools, but they managed to bend it back with needle nose pliers. To change the tire, they had to set up a jack that looked like a lego toy on a piece of wood, then crank it manually (since it was missing a piece that cranked it). They set the tire in place and removed the jack just as the AAA driver pulled in.


It doesn't end here.

We got back on the road, and Ben and I delved into some profound conversation while the two others slept in the back. Suddenly, Ben saw the state line sign for Utah. I wondered why he looked ill as I celebrated. Apparently, he was supposed to stop in Grand Junction about 30 miles back for fuel, but neither of us saw it. The gas gage read 20 miles. We woke the others up to join in our panic and come up with a plan. We decided to make it up one last hill, coast down the other side, then pull over and wait while Ben hitchhiked. Ben's boss had just informed him how you do not let a diesel truck run out of gas under any condition, as it can wreck havoc on the engine. We made it over the hill and got off at an exit, where several semis were parked.

Ben approached one and offered him $60 for five gallons of diesel, and the man happily complied, even siphoning it out of his tank for us. Impending catastrophe averted.

After all that, we did make it to Lake Powell, just two hours late, though all of us were a little jumpy thinking about what crazy problem could arise next.

Lesson learned: Cary a complete jack, keep an eye on the gas gage, and expect the unexpected when traveling with Ben.

Home coming

I've returned home safely after an amazing week at Lake Powell in Utah with my friend Ben, his family and others. I'll write more about it once I get over this exhausted delirium from traveling for the past 48 hours.

Gone boating

Tonight Ben invited me to come over tomorrow and I actually meant it when I said OK. He asks me all the time, but considering he lives in Denver, I never really quite make it. The lear jet is always in the shop.

So I'm off to meet him and head to Lake Powell for the week. Ben's picking me up tomorrow night and we're driving straight there. I probably won't be updating this blog, but judging from my recent performance, you probably won't notice a difference.

Now just a few more hoops to jump through...

Lesson learned: Ben I'm coming over.

Squinting for the light

The week before a vacation is always the worst. Not only am I counting the minutes, but there is always a million little things to do before I go.

This time, my boss asked me to "stockpile" some articles so they would have something to run while I'm gone. So, no problem, I'll just work two weeks in one.

Right now I'm searching for the light at the end of the tunnel that is Friday night, when my plane takes off for Colorado, where I am going to meet one of my best friends forever, Ben.

I'm headed to Lake Powell in Arizona him, his family and a group of others. The plan is to camp out on a house boat, go jet skiing and hike the lake's famous slot canyons. It's just what I need.

Ben and I met when we lived on the same floor in the dorms freshman year in college. We all dubbed ourselves the "Knowles Hall Mafia" and remained friends throughout college and even now.

Anyway, Ben and I still keep in touch, anywhere from once every few weeks to every other day, depending on if he has a girlfriend or not. (He he, just joking Ben). Our conversations are often just a few minutes. At some point, Ben inevitably will interrupt, sometimes mid sentence, and say, "Alisha, can I call you back?" Then I won't hear from him for a few more days. Unless he calls me in the middle of the night, which he has been known to do. I act mad at him and beg him to let me go to sleep. Or we talk for an hour and I'm wide awake for a few more.

The last time I saw Ben was a wedding almost exactly a year ago. So it's about time we hang out again.

Lesson learned: This week is going to be torture.

Stay tuned for fireworks

It's the Fourth of July and I haven't seen or heard one firework. I think it's the first year that I can remember that I missed them. Somehow I just slipped through about four day's worth of opportunities.

Wait, no, there are a few on TV. Thank goodness. That was close.

I did, however, get to see a greased pole contest, a watermelon eating contest and jugglers perform. I worked today so I covered an Independence Day celebration in 100 degree temperatures. Lucky me.

Lesson learned: Climbing a grease pole is surprisingly difficult.

Trying to understand English

Five years ago, I studied abroad in Salzburg, Austria during college. One the girls from the collage of nationalities I befriended was Felicity, a brunette from near London.

A few weeks ago I got an e-mail that she was going to be in the States. As I read, I was thinking, "What are the chances she will be on my end of this huge country?" It just so happens, her next sentence told me that her destination was California. My second thought was that there was no way she would make it all the way up here in the foothills of the Sierra. That's when she asked if she could come visit.

I met Felicity at the bus station in Modesto Friday night. Five years is a long time. It's a life time for some people. But it didn't seem like it's been that long. We basically picked up where we left up, filling each other in on all the details of each other's lives, from the trivial to life-changing.

Seeing her was a trip back to the year we spent riding bikes into the Alt Stadt (Old Town) in Salzburg, laying by the pool together and crowding around large wooden tables at an old monastery that is now a brewery. Felicity and I once made a turkey together for Christmas dinner, a huge gathering where everyone brought sometime traditional they eat at the holidays to a large dinner. We all attended midnight mass at a huge cathedral in the center to town.

We spent Saturday at a swimming hole in a river here that is pretty unique. I took her to a nearby town to show off its quaintness. LA and San Francisco weren't too surprising since she's seen them on the movies, but this area was a whole new experience. She thought this type of architecture only existed in the movies and ghost towns.

We also spent some time trying to decipher each other's "language." We swapped a few favorite words that we each promised to spread in our local areas.

Today was her birthday, so we went out to celebrate last night. After brunch this morning, I sent her off again. I was sad to see her go.

Lesson learned: Now it's my turn to visit her.

Realizing dreams

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you are running in place, trying feverishly to get somewhere and quite never making it? I have them all the time.

Today, that dream was my reality. The entire day consisted of me trying to write a story, but getting caught up in the side trivial details. Getting distracted by other possibilities that never came to fruition. And like my dreams, the first task never solidified. I never finished what I was trying to do, sometimes wondering exactly what that was.

Now that my shift is over, I still feel incomplete. The stress still lingers, like it does when I wake up from those dreams and remind myself, I don't have to worry.

Lesson learned: Let go.

Three for the price of one

I have wanted to do a triathlon for a long time. I just thought when I actually did it, I would train for it, practice the transitions and anticipate it for months.

Well I finally did one, but I decided to do it the day beforehand. Since it was sprint distance, I figured I could rely on my regular swimming and biking work outs to get through it.

It all started when I volunteered to be part of a relay team with Paul, a friend from church. His team's biker had dropped out, so I stepped in.

Then Paul's pregnant wife, Jenn, who is also a good friend, had her baby early. It was probably for the best, considering last time I talked to Paul he said, "Yeah, I just got up to running two miles without stopping." That was right before he told me the other guy can only swim three laps without stopping.

After Paul cancelled, my biking buddy Steve called and told me he was considering doing it. And of course he talked me into it too.

So it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, considering the last minuete nature of the decision. I did learn a few things for next time (and I think there will be a next time):

1. During the swim, don't panic, even when there are hundreds of legs and arms swinging in the water around you. Just roll with it. So what if you get kicked in the face. Or swallow a gallon of water. Or lose your goggles. (All things that happened to me).

2. Get a road bike. I felt pretty good on the bike, but it didn't really matter how good I felt, because I had a handicap since I was riding on a mountain bike. I could pass people on the up and down hills, but I tended to get passed on the flats and transitions.

3. Hydrate. Luckily I only had a quarter mile left when I started feeling cold chills.

Despite all that, I placed first in my age group. I got the blue medal and everything. I will be honest though — there was a friend of mine in my age group who left me in the dust (along with most men). It's just that because she got best female overall, she didn't get to get first place in her age group too. Thanks Ryan, for kicking butt.

Right now, I would kill for something chocolate.

Lesson learned: See above.

Night watch

A few weeks ago, an acquaintance asked if my job required that I be on call all the time, considering I cover crime and fire. At the time, I answered "no," that I don't really have to be.

That may technically be correct. I think I could refuse if I really wanted to. But I'm learning that I really do have to go, in part because my boss expects me to and in part because I feel a journalistic responsibility to. It something happens, my boss calls me, and I go.

Case in point: I had just gotten off Friday night and wasn't feeling very well. Sarah was on her way over for a movie night. Then I got a call from my boss telling me about a house fire in a nearby town. So I went, leaving Sarah at my apartment to entertain herself. When it comes down to it, I do like going out on this stuff. It is sort of an adrenaline rush, and it's interesting to figure out how it all happened. But it tends to happen at inopportune times.

Lesson learned: I guess I am on call.

Where's my cake?

Yesterday was my third anniversary at the paper I work for.

Sadly, when I came in to work in the morning, there were no streamers on my desk or a barbershop quartet singing my praises. Okay, well, yeah, I guess three years isn't all that spectacular.

It is pretty amazing how fast it went by. To celebrate, I didn't have to write a story for today's paper. Actually, that's not exactly true. The reason was just because the story I was going to write held for space reasons, and my boss was nice enought to tell me before I killed myself trying to write it by deadline. Hey, a girl can pretend.

Lesson learned: Guess Chris's 30 years are more impressive than my three.

Using my minor

So the description of my blog includes "musician." Yet in the year that I have had this blog, I don't think I've made one post about music. That's likely because I really haven't been playing the piano as much as I should. In fact, I'm still playing the songs I learned in college, when I was a music minor, aside from a couple songs I've written since then.

So last night I was feeling inspired and wrote a song. If I actually make myself do it, it's not as hard as it sounds. I just need to take the time. I stayed up a lot later than I meant to. The thing about composition, is even if I write it down, I'm always afraid to go to sleep the first night. No matter how many times you play it, you always forget at least parts of it.

But I got it all back this morning with the help of my notes.

Lesson learned: I need to do this more often.

Dancing queen

When I was little, my dad used to get my sister and I to go to ballet and tap dance class by bribing us with ice cream. Every Wednesday, he'd take us to Stump's Pumps for a sugar cone after practice. To be honest, I would have gone to dance anyway, it was my sister who needed a little persuasion.

Still, I am thankful that my dad pushed us to do stuff like that. And I still really love to dance. So yesterday night I went to a contemporary/jazz dance class a friend of mine has been promoting. I used to be a bit skeptical of contemporary dance. It just seemed like a lot of flailing around to me. I've come to have a newfound respect for it now that I see it more on TV. They do some really amazing and compelling things in this style.

Anyway, the class was really fun. It was nice to do something different and learn something new. And it's not a bad workout.

Lesson learned: I can still do a pas de bouree. Thanks dad.

Shocked

I got tased today. As in, with a Tasor — one of those guns police use to shock people.

Don't worry, it wasn't because I stormed a cop with a knife or resisted arrest. They were just training and I am writing a story about it.

To say I got tased is a slight exaggeration. I didn't get the full on treatment, where they shoot these probes, which are connected to the gun with wires, into your skin. The wires send an electrical shock from the gun into your body. It basically takes you out.

They shot me without the probes, just putting the gun directly to my leg, so that I could just get a feel what what the current is like. It was intense enough that I could really only take a couple seconds of it — if even. You lose control of your muscle, and it just makes you involuntarily flex.

Lesson learned: Fight with a cop and you will lose.

Winging it

It's been more than a month since I got back from Japan, but gave a presentation this morning to the local Rotary club who sponsored me on my trip.

As you can probably guess, I procrastinated putting something together till the last minute. On Monday, I compiled a quick power point presentation with photos from the trip. Last night, instead of reviewing what I was planning to say, I went out with a friend for a drink.

When I got to the breakfast meeting, we realized there was no cable that could connect my Mac to the projector. "This is not looking good so far," I thought. We managed to do a quick trade out to a different lap top, and I was online.

Despite my lack of preparation, it actually went brilliantly. They even laughed and oohed and ahhed. Who knew? My publisher, who is a member of the Rotary, shocked me by saying it was the best presentation they've had (which honestly makes me wondering where they're getting their speakers.) Still, it was nice validation.

Lesson learned: Maybe I should wing it more often.

Dog paddeling

I just joined a local swim team in my area and had my first practice on Monday.

It was funny, but for the first time in awhile, I was actually nervous. I spent the hour and a half beforehand trying to suppress the butterflies in my stomach. I had visions of these tall, sleek swimmers gliding by me as I dog paddled.

In reality, I didn't have anything to worry about. Keeping up wasn't really the issue, it was keeping track of what I was supposed to do. The coach would stand at the head of the pool, hollering a string of lap sets: "200 free, four 50 IMs, 50 free, four 25 IMs..." I could usually only remember the first two, and even then, I would forget where I was. One time I actually did an extra IM, which is one lap of each stroke.

It felt good to be in the water, though, and the hour went by fast.

Lessoned learn: I know how to swim, I need to learn how to count.

Where's Bobo?

Steve, his friend, Ben and I did our signature "ditch" ride this weekend. I've mentioned it before. It's about 42 miles, much of which winds right beside a culvert of water. Most of it is pretty tame. In fact, one of the more harrowing parts is ducking the dogs that rush us as we pass by. I think the anticipation of seeing a couple of them is actually worse the the real encounter.

My favorite is a large Rotweiler with a sharp bark, who, I kid you not, just happens to be named Bobo. To tell you the truth, I have never actually seen Bobo. Just heard him as I pedal by, keeping my eyes down and my pedals circling. This season, so far, he hasn't materialized. This time we called him, hoping he would come out and make an appearance. No such luck.

Lesson learned: I think Bobo moved.

Other side of the bars

I'm writing a story about women jail deputies, so of course, I sought one out. She's only 26 — younger than me— and about the same height. She told me some wild stories about the things she has to deal with as caretaker of criminals. People on drugs. Inmates calling her names. Her safety outside of work.

I have to admit, every once and awhile, the latter crosses my mind. What if someone I wrote about wanted revenge and burned down my house? Nothing even close has happened so far and I'll likely be fine. But it made me realize what these deputies face. They have daily contact. All I did was pass through the jail. Only a handful of inmates had a good look at me. It's a whole different thing when they all know your name.

Lesson learned: My skin is thin compared to these women.

A watery grave

I think I set a record for the most stories I have ever written in one day yesterday. Five. Plus taking pictures of two fires, writing up a couple briefs, filing photo captions and cataloging about 50 DUI reports.

But the pure absurdity of one of the stories I got to write cancels out any stress I might have felt after such long hours. I nearly fell out of my chair when a sheriff's official told me about this: At the edge of the receding waters of a local reservoir, deputies found the remains of a dog and chew toys sealed in plastic bags, wrapped in a towel, encased in cement, poured inside a cooler, which was sealed with silicon, fastened with wood screws and further secured with duct tape.

(On a side note, my high school English teacher would cringe at the ridiculous overuse of passive voice in that sentence, however, it must remain without a subject, since the perpetrators of this crime remain at large).

Attached was a note that said, "Mommy and daddy loves you," which is bound to get worse grammar marks than my own out-of-control passive sentence structure.

Most of my informant's quotes I couldn't use in my story, because they contained off-the-record references to groups like "tweakers."

Part of what gives this story such mirth, is that the alternative was so horrible. Officials thought it could have possibly been a dead infant inside the cooler. This blog entry would have had an entirely different tone if that were the case.

Lesson learned: I guess not all people think simply digging a grave for a deceased pet is the best option.

Reviving rides

I took a couple rides this weekend that made me remember why I love the sport of mountain biking.

Lately I've just had a hard time biking, partly because I am tired from working so much, partly because it's the beginning of the season, and partly because maybe I'm not as hard core as I wish I were.

But Sunday evening Steve and I went out and did a loop that we haunted often last year. Since it was later in the day, it was the perfect temperature, cool, but not cold. We finished just before sunset, which we had a nice view of as we went down the grade.

Monday, I took a ride by myself on a narrow paved road that swings around from one town to another in my area. Although it hasn't got the remote character of a single track, it's beautiful. The road winds up and over golden hillsides. Every once and awhile, you pass a few cows grazing on the little green left since its gotten hot, or an old farm house that looks like its about to collapse. There's not much traffic, so most the noise comes from the crickets chirping in the trees.

The whole loop, which only took a little longer than a hour and a half, left me wanting more.

Lesson learned: I love my bike.

Near miss

So yeah, I almost got in a head on accident yesterday.

I had the afternoon off because I was working last night, so Steve and I went for a bike ride. We were driving up the hill near my apartment on our way back, when we noticed car coming over the crest in the middle of the road.

For a split second, it looked like she was going to smash directly into the front of Steve's truck. The driver continued across the road and into two parked cars, just as Steve veered left. She was so close to the passenger side of the truck, I thought for sure she sideswiped us too.

We pulled over to see if she was okay, but she put the car in reverse and sped off. I was able to get her license number, which Steve wrote down. We were headed to the house the cars were parked in front of, when we looked down the hill and saw the car had rolled. Apparently, her brakes and steering had gone out.

I called 911, and it was all I could do to try and tell them what happened with the chaos going on around me. The girl who had nearly hit us had already gotten out of the car and was walking up the hill. She was in hysterics, but seemed to escape with little more than a scratched hand. It turned out she was 15 and didn't have her license.

The whole thing was so surreal.

After we told the police what happened, I had to run home to get ready for work. I noticed I drove a lot extra cautiously on the way to the meeting I was covering.

Lesson learned: God is good, a lesson I continue to learn all the time.

Riding high

I took the longest 12-mile ride of my life the other day.

The ride starts as a forest service road that peak's the ski resort that I live near. We had only gone up about two and a half miles when we hit snow. That meant dragging our bikes through it, getting back on, riding ten feet, then dragging the bikes again. At one point, I took a really stupid fall, which was just the beginning of my lackluster performance on this entire trip.

We decided to skip the rest of the road and just push our bikes up one of the ski runs to the top.

But just because we got there, didn't mean things got any easier. To say there was a trail that launched off the other side required a little bit of imagination. A lot of it was ducking under low tree limbs and stopping to lift our bikes over fallen logs or through steep sections riddled with rocks.

Three hours in, my arms were so tired it was all I could do to hold on to the handle bars.

We had just crested a ridge and were on the downhill to the truck when I think my tire caught a branch on a log. I'm not sure. I don't really remember.

Steve said I didn't make a sound. All he heard was a crash and he turned around to see me lying on my back, looking up at the sky.

In its entirety, it took us four and a half hours. We could have walked 12 miles faster than that.

Lesson learned: The milage says nothing of the ride.

Get a life

There are dishes piled in my sink. I only worked out twice this week. I had to cancel plans with friends three times in that same time period. I haven't had a date in two and half months.

I've come to realize, my job is taking over my life.

It's a good thing I like my job.


Lesson learned: While I was in Japan, we once drove by a shop that said "Life store" on the front. I think I need to go there and get a life.

Just call me detective

The past two days, I got to delve into that suspenseful, investigative mystery side of covering cops and courts at the news paper I work for. Someone found the body of a man who has been missing since fall.

It's a pretty wild story, but it involves a man who sold all his belongings and went up into the wilderness to fast and pray for 40 days and nights (sound familiar do those of you who read the Bible?). This was preparation for his a pilgrimage he was planning to Israel. But he never made it there. He died in the wilderness, and no body knows why.

I went up to the scene with two guys from the Sheriff's department, who were cool to let me tag a long. They were picking up the truck where his body was found. It's pretty eerie to look through this guy's things. Even though I'm home now, I can't help keep thinking about it, trying to rule out what didn't happen in the effort to find out what did.

Lesson learned: Don't wear clothes you like to a scene like that.

Putting out fires

To my great disappointment, my neighbor's street cleaner has vanished. Again I am baffled. Where did it go? Did they find a buyer? If so, how much did they get for it?

For those who don't know what I'm talking about, there is a couple down the street who collects random machinery.I wrote about it a few months ago.

Many unusual items have come and gone, but the street cleaner always remained. Until now. And I can't help but miss it.

But they haven't failed to disappoint in their replacement. They now have a white fire truck, complete with hoses and a sticker referring those whose house is burning down to call 911. The mystery surrounding this one is that it isn't always there. That means that someone is driving it around. Do they drive it to work? Does it dumbfound the firefighters in real fire trucks who pass by? (I can just imagine them sitting there with their earphones on going "Dude, which station is that from?")

I was talking to someone about it awhile back who suggested I just ask my neighbors the reasons behind this unusual hobby. Or business. I've been tempted, but part of me likes leaving it up to my imagination.

Lesson learned: If my apartment spontaneously combusts, I'm good.