Well, at least my handwriting has. Hehe.

If you’ve taken a look at my comments lately, you probably saw that Sibel, whose from Turkey, left a comment saying she received the postcard that I sent out on April 3rd. It only took 7 business days(8 days in actuality) to get there – which in my humble opinion is amazing. Sometimes it takes 7 days, if not more, to send something to my Dad who lives in Roswell, NM – you know, the place where the aliens crashed in 1947. My Dad was their leader! That is the only way I can justify my craziness sometimes.

I would have thought that the postcard I sent to Keller in Connecticut would have gotten their first. Perhaps it did, and it is just taking her some time to hop online and register it. But since we are dealing with the United States Postal Service, I wouldn’t be surprised if my postcard was still somehow in transit.

Unfortunately, Postcrossing is down for some strange reason today. I noticed it this morning and thought it may be my internet being screwy, but then Sibel mentioned it too, all the way in Turkey. I guess their servers crashed. Hopefully, they will get it up and running soon. The sooner Sibel is able to register my card, the sooner I’ll get a postcard in return.

The silliest things make me happy. I know, I’m retarded.

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The other day, I was reading through the blogs I like to frequent, and I came across something rather interesting. Thanks, Erick.

I’ve always enjoyed the idea of having a pen pal or something like it, but I’ve never really participated in it fully. A few years ago, I stumbled upon a website that allowed you to send emails to people, but it didn’t work very well, and I got sick of the strange men who kept wanting to marry me. I think it had to do with who built the site. It wasn’t very user friendly. I think the site is still up and running because every now and again, I get an email saying that someone has sent me an email. I don’t even bother opening them anymore.

So, I was very happy when I stumbled upon Postcrossing. Basically, in a nut shell, it works like this. You sign up, request a user’s address, and then send them a postcard. Once the person you sent it to registers it on the website(to me this is the only real pitfall, even though after a certain amount of time they expire), your name is then able to be randomly selected by other users. You can’t go requesting user’s addresses all day long. Postcrossing only allows you to send 5 post cards at any given time. They say they do this to protect users from the crazy people out there who just want to gain access to your information. I understand their reasoning, but in reality, all anyone needs is a computer or a phone book. Your address isn’t top secret or anything.

I like that you never know who the postcard will be coming from or when, but you are more or less guaranteed a postcard back if you send one. That is what I really like about Postcrossing. And besides the money you have to spend to buy postcards and stamps, it’s free. Free is good.

So far I have sent postcards to an Annette in Finland, a Robert in Germany, a Keller in Connecticut, a Vinni in Brazil and a Sibel in Turkey. I imagine that the one I sent to Keller will get to her soon, considering how close she is to me.

Hopefully, I won’t get any crazy stalkers or anything. At least, if I do, they’ll most likely have to spend a lot of money getting to me.

I’ll post the postcards as I get them.

This should be interesting. If you want to sign up, just go here.

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In an email, a fellow blogger, Reg (AKA Dogbait), mentioned a place that I haven’t thought of in a good long while. This place was the Outer Banks. I went there the summer before I started my freshman year at the University of South Carolina – if my memory servers me correctly. It seemed like a good place to go camping, so me and few of my friends packed up the essentials and off we went. Below is the account of that camping trip. It is one, if not the first, paper I wrote in college. So, if you hate it, blame it on my lack of experience or something. Reading back through it, I noticed I left out that I got pink eye in the end and that while standing on a really big sand dune that eats cities, we got chased by a wall of water. It was a rapidly moving thunderstorm. Apparently, it was moving faster than we were because we all got drenched.

Well, I better get to bed. I start work tomorrow, and I want to be bright eyed and bushy tailed. I’ll fill you in on the happenings of my first day soon.

The Camping Trip From Hell

Waking up at 5:00 A.M. is not easy, especially when the back up alarm is a schizoid cat, who is eager to eat. At the time it seemed that those problems were going to be the worst part of the trip, but in truth, it was only the beginning and trivial compared to what I would endure. So, promptly after my alarm clock went off, and my cat pounced on my face, I rolled out of bed and stumbled down the hallway. My bags had already been packed the night before, so all I had to do was throw on some comfortable clothes and wait for my ride. Right on time, a red Lumina pulled up into my driveway and I attempted to cram myself where Jonathan, Mandy, and Yanni already hogged the space of the crowded car. Seconds later, my camping trip to Nags Head, North Carolina began.

Over the eight-hour course of our journey we all took a turn at the wheel and only stopped occasionally for gas, a quick snack and a bathroom break. Although the drive was long, it seemed to pass somewhat quickly, and before I knew it we had arrived in a town I had only heard of. It was beautiful outside. Classic white puffy clouds were spread over the bright blue sky. It was almost picture perfect day until the wind started. This was no casual breeze. Instead, it was quick, harsh, and almost seemed to find pleasure in blowing our tents down the beach. Frantically, we all tried to catch our tents and find a way to keep the tied to the ground, but the loose sand prevented any progress. It took all our bags of clothes, boxes of food and lots of sand to keep them weighted down, but still the wind taunted us.

The rest of our first day was spent driving around town, walking the beach, and attempting to find a restaurant we could all agree on. We concluded our day learning about the stars at Jockey’s Ridge. Although dark clouds had begun to move in and the wind had increased the park ranger nevertheless continued his lecture on the stars above.

“Now if you place you hand up against the sky you can tell the distance between certain stars,” the park ranger said through the roar of the wind. As Jonathan, Mandy, Yanni and I lifted our hands toward the sky, we were able to observe the lightening in the distance. This prompted us to abandon the amateur astrology class immediately and run to our car. We quickly sped back to our campsite as the gloomy clouds crept closer. As we approached our tents, the headlights of the car allowed us a quick view of the destruction. It was obviously fate – the wind had won. Thankfully, the tents were still there, but just blown over.

We fought the wind for sometime until each tent stood proud. The race to beat the rain was victorious. Every item was strategically placed to avoid moisture and to support the frame of each tent. Exhausted, it was time for some much needed sleep. As our heads hit our pillows, the wind instantly began to lessen and the threatening thunder clouds crept back out to sea. All work put forth into preparing for a horrible storm was almost pointless. As we drifted off to sleep, the sky opened up with millions of stars and the cool summer night was at a rare desirable temperature.

The next morning we all woke up to a beautiful day and decided to drive down to Hatteras. It is rumored that the best waves are there and that people from all over the world travel to Hatteras just to get a thrill of a lifetime. So, after a speedy cold shower, the four of us piled back into the Lumina for another afternoon drive. About an hour later, we reached our destination and by the looks of it, so had everyone elses. It was a short stretch of beach crammed with families and several experienced surfers. Once we found a place to lay our stuff, we joined the numerous people in the untamed waters of the Atlantic.

The surf was rough, and I was constantly fighting to hold my own against the current. Jonathan and Yanni had gone out further to catch larger waves while Mandy was sun bathing on the beach. It seemed to me that the harder I tried to swim back to the shore, the stronger the force became, pulling me closer to the pillars of a rundown dock. At first, I was not worried. I believed that I could fight my way back to a point where my feed could touch ground, but even when they did, I was still being dragged out to sea.

“Jonathan! Yanni! I need your help!” I yelled as I gulped sea water. “Jonathan!” I began to panic as I was pulled even closer to the dock. My legs were getting tired and my stomach churned with fear.

“Swim parallel,” Jonathan said. Moments before I collided with the jagged dock, Jonathan put his arms around my waist and attempted to haul me in. “If you kick, the current will take us both out. Get a hold of yourself.” Just as Jonathan and I reached land, I could see the lifeguards walking our way.

“We were about to come get you, but we saw the you were okay,” one of the lifeguards said. I simply nodded my head, and went to sleep on my towel. When I woke about and hour later, Mandy pointed out a nearby storm that looked like it was not going to pass. Just as we got in the car and started back to our campsite, the rain began to fall, gently at first, and then in angry bursts. By the time we made it back to our tents, a river had formed under them. We sent Yanni to inspect and he returned with a solemn face.

“Everything is water logged,” he said. In an attempt to wait out the storm, we drove toward downtown Nags Head only to find the whole island was in a blackout. All of tehe businesses were closed and traffic was backed up for miles. Listening to a radio broadcast we found out that flash floods were either imminent or occurring and that anyone is low lying areas should evacuate. The first thing to pop into our minds was that our tents were bound to wash away and that the river had probably grown into a lake by now. Once again we rushed back to our tents and this time we found ourselves in the middle of an evacuation. We were told by the park ranger that it would not be safe to stay there for the night.

In the middle of the pouring rain, we tried to collect all of our belongings and throw them into the car. Still, an obstacle stood in our way. Out of no where came a swarm of enormous hungry mosquitoes. They attacked us from head to toe and in our mad search for long pants and sweaters they had us for supper. Screaming and throwing our clothes on we appeared to have escaped the mosquitoes by getting in the car. There was dead silence for a moment until Jonathan turned on the over head light. Inside the car were at least forty mosquitoes.

In unison, we all screamed, “AHHHHHH!” The four of us swatted at them, but more seemed to appear. Jonathan in a rush accelerated the car and rolle down the windows to get the mosquitoes out, but instead more just flew in. As we drove back into town looking for a place to stay, we could still see a few flying about the car.

Our budget was small and trying to find a motel for four looked impossible, until we came to an old motel named London Inn. There we were able to get a warm place to sleep and enjoy a much needed shower. All of our clothes were drenched. Even the ones we wore were soaked. As I packed my bag before I went to bed, I separated my wet clothes from my mildly dry ones.

On the morning of our last day in Nags Head, the weather did not change much. The rain continued to fall and just as we ordered lunch from Taco Bell, the power went out again. The power surge erased all of the stored orders on the computer and forced everyone to reorder their meals. After acquiring our food, we spend the rest of the day waiting our the storm, but it never did go anywhere. So, as night fell, we decided that our trip was over and that is was time to go home. Just as we left so did the rain.

Driving until 5:00 A.M. is not easy, especially when your contacts have stiffened over your eyes and your feel disoriented. Jonathan dropped off Yanni and Mandy first, and then me. As I walked into my house that morning, I found that the clothes I was wearing were still damp and that my hair was no even brushed. The thoughts of what I been through echoed through my mind. Somehow, I had survived and learned how to better prepare more for any future camping trips. Walking down the hall I could hear my mother’s voice.

“Honey, is that you?” I opened her door and peered in. “How was it?” She had been forewarned by Jonathan’s mother that were returning in the wee hours for some curious reason.

With a half smile on my face, I replied, “Jonathan is an Eagle Scout, and he said it was the worst camping trip he had ever been on. Jonathan says it was the camping trip from hell.”

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One of these days, this update has to end.

Early this morning, I had an interview with another DSS location, this time for the position of an Adult Protection Services worker. The interview went fairly well and the pay isn’t bad. I could definitely live on $28,000 a year. I had to sign yet another SLED background check form. By the time I get a job, SLED is going to know me on a first name basis. They also wanted to get fingerprints, but the woman that does that sort of thing wasn’t there.  I’ll have to go back to have that done.  Before they can even offer me a job, they have to get the results back on the background and my fingerprints.

Well, I guess I passed my writing test because tomorrow, I have an interview with Blue Cross Blue Shields for the position of Instructional Writer I.  I was a little nervous when I got the call because the woman on the phone was a bit hesitant when she began talking to me.  I thought she was trying to figure out the best way to tell me that I failed and that I could retake the test in six months if I wished, but she was only double checking whom I would be interviewing with and where.  At this point, I have no idea what the salary for the position is or when they expect to fill it.  I’m just psyched that I have the opportunity to interview for the position.  I mean, I don’t know many other jobs that I qualify for out there that are directly related to my degree in English.  I just hope they don’t expect me to have a lot of professional writing experience.  I can write all day on just about anything, but my writing has never been my bread and butter.  I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.  I’ll be interested in what they have to say.

Hopefully, I’ll hear from USC this week and the news will be good.  I’ve got every finger, toe, and hair crossed.   If there is a psychic reading this post, can you please leave a comment telling me how all this is going to work out?  Thanks!

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