Long time, No Write

It's been awhile since my last post, but much has happened since. I have bailed on Beacock Music for a desire to actually have fun during the summer, and so far I would say it's been worth it, although paying a $177 speeding ticket wasn't exactly fun, but it's life, so there's not a whole lot that can be done about that.

Extra time is spent thinking about working on my truck, but it's at the point that it's not giving me trouble, so why make some? School stuff for the fall is being filtered in, but not at the expense of the ten credits I am taking now. I continue to follow the news and have found a favorite source in the New York Times. I've recently been reading a book about Lewis and Clark, but I have to force myself to do so because they are both atrocious spellers. In addition, I am scheming ways to buy a Jeep Rubicon and move to the Canadian Rockies to snowboard and climb mountains all the time.

This Canadian Rockies desire comes with a story, and it follows as such; I was getting ready to cross the Canadian border into B.C. and was kind of stressed out. I had been driving since 4:00 AM and had gotten three hours of sleep the night before, so I was feeling kind of wasted. I didn't feel like throwing my hair around all day, so I had a hat on, and I must say, I probably looked like a bit of a stoner. Apparently, the guy at the window thought so too. He had me take a bay while they ran my passport through some crazy machine. They then demanded to know the last time I had used illegal drugs. I told them I had never done so much as looked at the stuff, let alone smoke it. Their reply: "Well, we have this fancy machine inside that looks for that kind of thing and we found some on your passport. So, why don't you just tell me the last time you used illegal drugs?" I, of course, was incredulous. They asked if I had friends that used. Not that I know of. So they searched my car and found nothing but Evan's switchblade comb, which they threw a fit about but let me keep. When they were done, they didn't bother to even zip up my bags, said "Have a nice day" and I could tell they really wanted to find drugs. But they didn't. So I kept driving. And that's my story.