My Quick Venture With Appliance Repair

Sometimes I don’t think I make enough money for everything I do at work, but you know who really didn’t make enough money for all the work he did? My dad.

I spent part of my day today, in my dad’s shoes. Let me explain.

Today is Sunday so I spent part of my day getting ready for the work week, including doing laundry. I usually do my laundry between other tasks, today it was while I was studying for my ASBOG fundamentals of geology exam that is coming up in less than two months. I took a short break to go check on the clothes in the dryer and I never got back to studying.

I went to go check the clothes and they were dry and ready to move so I could get the next load in the dryer. I have plenty of laundry baskets, but for some reason I just love playing the game of carrying all my clothes from the dryer in the garage to my bedroom in my hands while trying not to drop an article of clothing. Because I value my time and I don’t want to make more than one trip to the garage, this is how I usually do laundry:

  1. I remove the dry clothes from the dryer and place them on top of the dryer to wait for me to carry them away to my room.
  2. I open the washer to remove the washed clothes and stick them in the dryer.
  3. I always check the lint trap to remove any lint before turning on the dryer, once the lint is removed, I turned on the dryer.
  4. I start running the washer and put in the next load.
  5. I scoop up all my dry clean clothes from the top of the dryer and swiftly and carefully walk them from the garage to the bedroom.

Today in the middle of step 3, after I pushed the clean clothes to the side to check the lint, while I was about to put the lint screen back in the slot, I accidentally nudged the clothes just enough to have one of my no show liner socks roll off my clothes pile and into the lint trap opening.

Crap!

The last thing I need is to start a fire and burn down my house; of course that’s immediately were my mind went.

I stuck my hand in to try and reach for the sock. Nothing!

I remember that we have a handheld drain snake with a claw that we use to remove clogged hair in the bathtub and I run to get it and proceed to shove it down the opening and blindly open and close the claw praying to grab a sock. Nothing!

This is the drain snake, highly recommended for removing hair from the bath drain, not recommended for removing socks from a dryer lint trap.

I try my hand again, because why not?! I would like to say this was the last time I tried my hand, but I was very desperate and delusional, so it was not.

Alex was taking an afternoon nap because I had sent him away so he wouldn’t be a distraction while I was studying. I wake him from his slumber irrationally talking about my sock in the dryer lint opening, the house possibly burning down, and a cry for help.

He joins me in the garage, we unplug the dryer and move it up enough so he can squeeze behind it. He disconnects the dryer vent and shakes it out; we find 4 different lost earrings and a surprising amount of pen components, but no sock! I tell him it makes sense that the sock isn’t in the vent because I did not run the dryer after the sock fell, so it must still be in the dryer. He sticks his hand in the vent opening on the back of the dryer, nothing!

I’m asked to bring the vacuum with all hose attachments to him. I do. He tries to vacuum out the vent, but nothing! He did however take the opportunity to clean the vent opening that leads outside the house, I’ve been secretly worrying about needing to clean this for a while now, so this is all it took to make it happen.

I don’t believe that he can’t reach anything with his hand or with the vacuum inside the dryer vent opening so I trade places with him so that I could stick my hand in the opening and try the vacuum, but nothing!

Gambling on the possibility of my sock causing a fire is not an option, so google to the rescue! We are going to have to open the dryer. Since I was already behind the dryer and because I’m pretty sure I can do anything, I decide to be the one to give it a go. Alex brings me the tools and I start removing screws from the back panel. I do try to prematurely bend the panel to see if I can get in there without removing all the screws, but that’s a no go, all the screws and the complete panel have to be removed to gain access to the lint trap.  With the panel removed, I still have to remove the screws from the lint trap. Once the back screws from the lint trap are removed, I find that I still can’t move the lint trap because there is screws in the lint trap opening on the top side of the dryer that must be removed. Removing those screws allows me to wiggle the lint trap, but I still can’t completely remove it without removing other components.

At this point, I don’t know how long I have been working on this, I’m dripping sweat from everywhere, I’ve giving up on squatting while working on the dryer because my body can’t handle it, so I’m sitting on the dirty lint filled garage floor. So much sweat! All of this for one sock, how much longer?! I’m pretty ready to give up, but I need to finish my laundry, so I try the drain snake again, nothing! I get my light and peak through a corner of the bottom back lint trap opening and I see the sock!

Cue the angels singing ahhhhhh.

I manage to maneuver the sock retrieval, I vacuum up all the lint I can see, and I put and screw all the pieces back to their original state. I was so gross and sweaty from doing this one, seemingly simple task, that I immediately went to take a shower and cool off. I do a lot of thinking in the shower, today my though was man, I can’t believe how much of a pain that was and then my thought was on my dad because for most of my life he has been an appliance repair man, so he removed socks from lint traps for a living.

Of course my dad did more than just remove socks from lint traps, he did just about everything appliance related; all self-taught from reading books and trial and error. He did have a store front at one point, but usually he just rented storages that he kept parts, appliances, tools, and performed repairs in. He was always working and would always come home very sweaty and smelly. I remember being grossed out sometimes when he would come in the door and give me a loving side hug. It’s making my eyes water just thinking that I would ever feel that way of my dad working hard in the heat in a storage unit trying to provide for his family. Especially knowing that he always probably felt like he wasn’t doing enough because like I said in previous post, we were poor.

I don’t have a favorite parent, I love both of them very much, but my dad will always have a special place in my heart. My dad hasn’t always known how to be the best dad, he has battled with depression all his life and because of that he has periodically battled with alcoholism. Even though I had seen him be an alcoholic on and off for most of my early life, I’m happy to say that he is what I’m calculating to be, 16 years sober, even though those 16 years of life have brought about many trials, he has persevered.

There have been so many defining moments with my dad, but the one that comes to mind because I’ve already talked about my decision to get married at 17, was the talk I had with him about that. I was asking him if he would come with us to the courthouse to sign the documents that would allow me to get married at 17 because I needed a signature and my mom had been making a big fuss about everything (rightfully so, but don’t tell 17 year old me that). My dad told me that he knew I was going to marry my ex-husband as soon as I mentioned and started dating him. In short, my dad said he was going to let me live my life and make my decisions because he never wanted to hold me back, but just to know that he would always be there if I needed him; if I decided this was not what I really wanted and needed to come back, he wouldn’t hold anything against me, he would just be there to pick me up. That was everything to me. My dad loves with all his heart and everything he has, I think that’s where I get it from, even if we don’t have much to give, we give what we have with everything we’ve got.

I’m afraid I’ve deviated from my original thought, which was that anytime I feel sorry for myself thinking I don’t make enough working in my cushy air-conditioned office, to think that I make more than my dad sweating his butt off hauling refrigerators, stoves, washers, and dryers in and out of his storage unit to just barely get by.

Me and Alex did high-five each other when we were done and he told me I would make my dad proud and we should have gotten a picture to send him and show off I could handle the family business. I know I make my dad proud every day and there is nothing I could ever do to change how proud he is of me and I know there is no way I could ever deny or question how proud I am of him.

Me and my dad the day I walked the stage for my master’s in science in geology.

I know part 2 of my previous post is still pending, but my dad was in my thoughts today, so that will have to continue next time, I promise!

I Can and I Will

This week marks five years of being done with school; August 5th was the anniversary of passing my defense and August 10th is the anniversary of submitting my thesis and being completely done. Those days seem like a faint memory, I remembered because Facebook thinks it is important to remind us of the things we post; most of the time it’s pictures of donuts I’ve eaten, but this time I’m glad it’s a worthwhile memory.

It’s so crazy to think that a bit over five years ago I was only getting 2 to 3 hours of sleep because I was managing a full time job and then spending all my extra time at school working on finishing my degree. Fast forward to now and I can’t believe I did that; that was me hustling and getting no sleep! I couldn’t imagine that now, I’m so grumpy when I don’t get my sleep. Even though I don’t think about it much these days, I do vividly remember feeling like I couldn’t do it, feeling like I was never going to reach the end of the tunnel, but here I am five years later!

Nancy Pasillas is feeling satisfied x 2
Done.

Little did I know that feeling of satisfaction from finishing my degree was not going to last. I ended up with more school debt than I wanted and I had no experience to get a job that allowed me to utilize my degree. It took me five years to get a job in my field, five! This March I left my job of over 9 years at a financial institution to work at an environmental services company. During this pandemic I’ve been feeling pretty guilty for feeling so happy, fulfilled, and satisfied because of my job. I had given up even imagining being able to work in my field and here I am learning everything! Guys, I’m a nerd, learning is my jam, being challenged and succeeding is also my jam, so I’m feeling great. I wasn’t hired as a geologist, but in the position I hold, I get to learn and do everything, not just geology. I also finally got to blow the dust off my degree because I finally have a job where it makes sense to hang my degree; it sits in the wall behind my desk in my office! Even though my title is not “geologist” I did get to be the official on site geologist at one of our projects last month and yes, it was everything I ever dreamed of!

Top Left: Me taking a a selfie with my degree in the background of my office. Bottom Left: The job site where I got to log soil borings at a phase II, using air rotary and split-spoon. Right: Me taking a break inside the truck while the rig moved locations because it was 106 degrees outside!

What is the point that I am trying to make?

I almost never got here.

I don’t know how far back I want to go with the “I almost never got here” because so many things could have prevented me from getting here.

I am a first generation Mexican American, my dad has a third grade education and my mom has a middle school education. I always felt so horrible when in college applications it asks for your parents’ education and the lowest option was some high school and I couldn’t even select that.

I was never a high achiever, I really just got by with minimal work and effort because I had no accountability. My parents were too busy and had their own problems that didn’t allow them to worry about how I was doing in school, they knew I wasn’t failing miserably and that was enough. Don’t get me wrong, I was an honors student and I always planned on continuing my education and doing all the things, I just didn’t take it as seriously as I could have. I look back and think of all the wasted potential, all the things I could have done to make it easier. Things like not going crazy and deciding to get married at 17, so many things always come back to that decision.

Did I mention I didn’t even want to marry him?

He was moving to San Antonio, I was graduating from high school, and he wanted to take me with him, but he couldn’t just take me with him and live in SIN, because god forbid his Christian parents had us living together while not being married. He was sinful in many ways, but he had to marry me to continue our relationship.

I was finishing high school and even if I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, I knew I wasn’t stopping there. I had plans of being grown and having a great job that made a difference. I wanted to rise above my situation and be better than I was. I wanted to be the chubby Mexican version of Elle Woods getting into Harvard law and owning it.

I didn’t want to marry him, but I still said yes…well, not entirely. I did try to break up with him, I had it all figured out: we could break up, he could go ahead and move to San Antonio and instead of going to UTSA I could stay in Fort Worth and go to UTA. I had already applied and been accepted to UTSA, but still met the deadline for UTA and got accepted. That didn’t go over well and I ended up in San Antonio and married.

When people ask how I ended up in San Antonio, I always tell them I moved here to come to school, but that’s not true. I would feel so dumb saying that I moved here to follow my boyfriend at the time. I moved to San Antonio for the first time in 2007 and I actually didn’t start at UTSA until 2011.

There was four years of life adventures between 2007 and 2011, and yes I did say the first time I left San Antonio, and yes that “on this day” from 10 years ago that is under my Done post from five years ago was also a hurdle I had to jump over to get me here. I hate to leave this post to be continued, but I also have to go to bed because I already know I’m going to be grumpy in the morning. Stay tuned for the continuation of this blog post. I told myself I was going to do at least one post a week, I didn’t say it was going to be complete; it’s been a busy week, but I’m promising myself that I will make time, plus we all know I end up getting the degree.

My First Adventure: Marriage at 17

I got married when I was seventeen. Looking back and thinking about seventeen year olds today, I know this age is way too young to get married. Honestly, I think twenty something is way too young to get married now, but don’t tell a young naïve Nancy that, don’t tell her that thirty year old Nancy still feels too young,  that this Nancy is still waiting for the moment that makes her feel like a full-fledged adult.

I told my parents that even if they didn’t sign the documents to allow me to get married, that I was still going to leave Fort Worth and follow him to San Antonio after I graduated from high school. I still can’t believe I said those words and how I got there is another blog post on its own. This post is inspired by a question I received on my previous post. I promise I will get to the travel part of this blog, but seeing how we can’t travel as much lately, I decided to continue working on my introduction.

I really wanted my marriage to work because we were so young when we got married and everyone expected us to fail. We were convinced that we were going to be the exception and that we were going to grow old together and think back and laugh at everyone who said we weren’t going to make it. I think that’s why it was so hard to let go, because I didn’t want to be a quitter. I didn’t want everyone who said we weren’t going to make it and that I was dumb for doing this to be right. Anyone who knows me, knows I love to be right and hate to be wrong, but that’s the wrong reason to stay in a relationship and I’m not convinced that is the reason I stayed for ten years when there was so many reasons not to stay.

I had so many I’m done moments, but I always stayed because I had that growing old picture in my mind. He isn’t a bad guy, I think that was part of the problem, I knew he wasn’t a bad guy and he did so many things that made him a great guy, someone anyone would want to be with. The worst thing he did was talk to other females, this was justified by him saying he never physically did anything and that he always came home to me and I got everything from him. We were stuck in a cycle of he does something bad, I get upset, he apologizes and we move on until the next time. It’s such a long story, this isn’t all there was to it and I plan on doing a blog series on this because looking back, I always ask myself, why did I stay for so long, when everything was telling me to run, even before we got married. I was so heartbroken for such a long time, I still cried over him even last year, but I had a life changing moment with my family at the end of last year and through all of that, I was finally able to let go of him and really solidify my relationship with Alex.

I always felt like an inconvenience to him; I do inconvenience Alex sometimes, but Alex doesn’t make me feel like he is going out of his way, even though he goes out of his way a lot. He made me feel bad about being myself, he would tell me that I’m different, that I’m not like I used to be. When we got together I was 17, of course I’m not like I used to be, I’ve grown up, I have evolved, I have experienced life, and I have learned things about our world; I was not a sheltered clueless kid anymore and he should have encourage my personal growth, but instead he hindered it. I was going to school and I had friends and he was always so self-conscious about everything, he didn’t like not fitting in because he wasn’t a person who went to school and things like that, he always needed to prove himself. I would be invited to things and I would say I couldn’t go without even talking to him about it because I was scared to have those conversations. If I spent too much time with one of my friends, he would accuse us of being lesbians. I also had a really good friend that is gay and he thought he was pretending to be gay to be close to me, who thinks like this?! Now that I think back on all the things, I wonder how I stayed with him for so long; I don’t have an answer for that yet, I think the idea and picture of what we were as opposed to what we actually were always kept me there.

I couldn’t just go for a hike, which is my favorite thing to do, because he didn’t get it, doing things I wanted to do was a bother, he couldn’t fathom how someone could do these things. I remember the first time I went to a concert with Alex, I kept apologizing the whole time for how crowded the concert was, I know it’s a concert and it’s meant to be crowded, but I still felt so bad for putting him in that situation. Alex laughed at me and said a concert is supposed to be crowded and we need to roll with it and have fun…had I been with my ex-husband, we would have left because it would have been too uncomfortable to stay because he would have been making comments and faces the whole time, so rather than deal with that, I would have left to avoid the situation. Imagine missing out on a shirtless Adam Levine because your husband was making faces the whole time…I just stopped trying to do things I wanted to do with my husband because I knew how they would turn out; the experienced would be ruined and I would feel bad about wanting to do them in the first place.

What was the “I’m done” moment?

We were both on our couch in our living room and I got a text from a coworker asking for his work schedule, this was a common occurrence from all my coworkers because apparently no one had figured out how to send external emails from work, but I always emailed myself the schedule and everyone knew I was good for it. I sent him his schedule and he sent a meme or something to say thanks for the schedule, I smiled. I was not trying to hide anything, I was right next to my husband, it was nothing, but to my ex-husband it looked like something. We got into an argument and we didn’t talk for a day or two. I had previously scheduled time off to go see my parents in Fort Worth with him, but with not talking to each other I decided to go by myself and give him time to cool off. I woke up and told him in the morning I was leaving and he just ignored me and continued about his day. I left to Fort Worth. I cried the whole 4.5 hour drive and waited the whole day for him to check on me to make sure I got there safely, this was the first time I had ever driven myself that far, but he didn’t. The next day I woke up and still hadn’t heard from him, so I thought maybe he just isn’t talking to anyone and keeping to himself. I logged into our AT&T application to see our phone activity (years of being with him had made me an expert at snooping) and saw that he was up all night talking to someone. I couldn’t believe that we had gotten to a point that he didn’t even care to see that I was alive, that might sound dramatic, but it was heartbreaking. I had never traveled anywhere without him, he was everything I knew for my whole adult life and even though it broke my heart, I decided that one of us had to care about me, and if it wasn’t him, it had to be me. When I got back to SA I told him we were done and I meant it, even though it was scary because I have no family in SA and I had never been alone, I was done. I don’t think he believed me because I had always gone back to him before, but before I was choosing us, and this time I was finally choosing me because for such a long time, I was the only one choosing us.

I went into my box of things to try and find a picture of me at 17 to add to this post and the first thing that fell out of my album was this note from my ex-husband. I have so many of these I’m sorry, please forgive me notes, but for now, here is this one with a picture of me on my wedding day at 17 (it was a backyard wedding, as you can imagine, one does not have a fancy wedding at 17).

My venture with my boyfriend/partner/fiancé/husband?!?

Alex is the venture that keeps on venturing…get it like the gift that keeps on giving?! I’m pretty sure he has told me more than once that if I have to explain my jokes, then they are not funny, but I’m still laughing at how clever I think I am. Additionally, I usually still get a smile from him because he is laughing at me instead of with me, but I get to see his smile, which still makes me feel like I’m winning and makes it worth it. 😀

Boyfriend, partner, fiancé, husband, what do I call him? None of those words encompass our relationship, I know it’s just a word/title and we know what we are and that there is nothing to prove, but he deserves to get some recognition for all the work he has put in and continuously puts in everyday; that guy shows up, even when I don’t want to show up somedays.

Some background:

I need a whole blog series (which I plan to do) to truly paint a picture, but in short, Alex and I have been together over 3 years. We met at work, in a banking job where you are not supposed to date people you work with because of risks involved with people being in “cahoots.” Our relationship has been a secret from most of the world (or so I liked to think, but apparently we are not great at keeping secrets) and until recently (I finally left this job in March) I didn’t acknowledge it out loud to anyone except my family and very close friends. Most people wrote him off as a rebound because our relationship started shortly after the end of my ten year marriage, even I tried to think of him as a rebound, but we were all wrong. Alex decided he was here to stay and when he decides something, he figures out how to make it happen. For me, he made it happen with his cooking skills, just kidding, but they certainly don’t hurt! Having the right companion (this makes him sound like a pet) truly makes a difference, he has pushed me to continuously work on improving all aspects of my life, since being with him I have reached so many milestones I only dreamed or didn’t dream of achieving previously. Don’t get me wrong, anyone who knows me, knows I’m not and “all about my guy” type of gal, I’m usually quite the opposite, but I’m giving credit where credit’s due. I know I’m a total badass and at the end of the day it’s my hard work and dedication that has helped me accomplish all the things, but Alex’s advice, support, and encouragement has made all the difference. Could I have done it without him? Sure, but I’m glad I didn’t have to.

Boyfriend?

This is how I most frequently refer to Alex, but I cringe every time I say it because I feel like this word is definitely not good enough for an adult relationship. Alex is definitely my friend, best friend actually, but he is definitely not a boy. This reminds me of the Sex and the City movie when Big asks “Aren’t I a little old to be introduced as your boyfriend? Carrie then calls him her “man-friend.” Big says “that sounds like a dog” and he isn’t wrong. Our relationship is too developed to simply say boyfriend/girlfriend; we live together, we have 3 cats and 1 dog, we have a car in both our names, we talk and plan for our future, it just seems incorrect to use the same word that describes young relationships.

Partner?

Alex is very much my partner in life; since he came into my life he has been by my side along every adventure cheering me on while plotting our next venture. Alex has done all of this while always being in the background and having little to no acknowledgement because of the circumstances surrounding our relationship. Even though Alex is my partner, saying partner always feels wrong because I feel like it’s reserved by the LBGTQ community to describe couples who had been together and committed to each other for a long time, but until recently, were not able to get married. Using the word partner feels like I’m taking something from that community and for that reason I refrain from using it.

Fiancé?

This is definitely not the word to describe him because we are not engaged to be married; not because we don’t value our relationship, but because I have been married before and the idea of being engaged sounds a bit silly to me. We either want to be married or we don’t. We are committed to each other and when and if we decide to get married, we will just do it, no need for an engagement. What about being engaged to have time to plan a wedding? I don’t want it; I can find other adventures we can both enjoy for fractions of the cost. I’m okay with sounding a bit cynical when it comes to this, like I said in my previous post, I’m selfish. I’m selfish because I spent 10 years of my life not being selfish, giving every part of myself I could give, just to be told it wasn’t enough. I’m going to do me and Alex embraces that, and I love him so much more for it.

Husband?

When I first met Alex I flat out told him I never wanted to be married again and if he wanted to be with me, then he had to acknowledge and be okay with that. I absolutely meant it, I still don’t really want to get married, but Alex is basically my husband. My mom calls him my husband, I even occasionally call him my husband to strangers, but legally he is not my husband. If he was in critical condition in a hospital, I would have no say in what happens to him, for this reason, I have considered it, but because I still know it’s only a piece of paper and we are more of a “married couple” than some real married couples are, I haven’t gotten to the point where I’m just like, lets do this thing. I know that sucks for him, but I told him from the beginning, so for now, I don’t feel right calling him my husband.

My boyfriend, who is my partner, definitely not my fiancé, but kind of like my husband:

In the 3+ years we have been an item, I’ve never posted a picture of us together, but he’s always been there, so here are a few:

My Venture with Scout

Scout is my dog, normally I say Scout is my boyfriend Alex’s dog because I fought having a dog tooth and nail, on numerous occasions I told Alex to take his dog and leave, but next month marks one year of having Scout and I guess I have to resign that she indeed is my dog.

Why did I not want a dog?

I have 3 cats, Roca, Rusty, and Zoe, they are pretty low maintenance, as long as I feed them and clean their litter, they are happy. They each have their own personalities and I love them, I love them so much that I could not fathom disturbing their peace and introducing a new pet, especially one that is not cat! As it is, Roca has become increasingly bitter with the introduction of each additional cat, I felt like a dog was going to push her over the edge.

I am selfish; I like to do what I want when I want, that means not having to worry about the logistics of what we are going to do with the dog. Cats are easy, you put out extra food, water, and additional litter boxes and they will be happy the humans are not wanting to pet and cuddle for a few days. It is much less of a burden to ask a friend to check in on the cats every few days than to take care of a dog which is a 24/7 job (especially this dog).

How did I end up with Scout?

In June 2019 , my parents dogs had puppies and they needed to find them homes because they could not afford to keep them and as it is, my mom doesn’t like dogs (this is probably where I picked it up). I said no to taking a dog on multiple occasions, but my mom took that as a sign that she should ask Alex instead. Alex has only ever had a pet goldfish and boy was he excited about the idea of a dog, but I still said NO.

August 2019 we traveled to Fort Worth to visit my family for my niece’s birthday and when my mom asked about a puppy, I still said NO, but that didn’t stop her from having my niece collect all the puppies and bring them inside so I could reject them in person. Yup it was still a NO from me. I did not want this responsibility and I made that clear to everyone, especially Alex! Obviously I somehow ended up with a puppy, but I was so upset that Alex didn’t back me and my wishes that I was ready to be done with him. How could I be with someone who didn’t respect my feelings that way? I felt so betrayed when I said no and Alex sat with his puppy eyes and got every single person in my family to keep pressuring me to take a dog, my mom was even massaging me while telling me how happy a dog was going to make me. Alex left with a dog, I wasn’t happy.

Why I wanted to quit:

She was so needy! I treasure the few hours of sleep I get at night and I wasn’t getting those because she had to use the restroom every 2 hours. We couldn’t leave the house for more than a few hours at a time because we had to be back to check on her and let her out. We had planned my 30th birthday vacation and we couldn’t take her or find a place to board her because of her age, we ended up paying someone a few hundred dollars to watch her for a week. My cats do not like her. She is so hyper, everyone says she is a “working dog” even to this day I can take her on a 2-3 hour hike and she still wants to play when we get home. She destroyed my new heels! She wants to chew on you (must be how she shows love), she isn’t as bad as she used to be, but when you go in for pets she always wants to nibble. She has destroyed my couch, which I don’t understand because it is one of her favorite places to be…I could go on forever!

Why I didn’t quit:

I want to cry just thinking about the struggle that was Scout at the beginning, but guys, it is so worth it for that goofy face she makes when she doesn’t understand whats going on. It is an ongoing struggle, especially because we never got to take her to training classes because I had a family emergency and then the pandemic happened, but YouTube and a very awesome friendship and walks with a dog named Sonny have really helped. Even with all the craziness, I’m just not the type of person that quits, especially on a living being, I will never understand people who abandon their dogs, Scout is so expressive and has a personality that isn’t shy about letting me know when she is upset. I can’t imagine getting home and not having her wag her tail so hard she knocks on everything within reach and her galloping back and forth waiting for me to put my things down and pet her.

The day I knew she was my dog was probably the day she found me a fossil outside, I had already secretly loved her, but that day I made it Instagram official! Follow Scout and my cats on the Instagram, link: https://www.instagram.com/lansburycats/

My First Post

I feel like my first post should be something super awesome that is really going to get people to want to read my blog, but the reality is that I’m really not worried about anyone reading this blog. I don’t have any words of wisdom or ventures I want to share just yet, mostly because I’m still confused on how these pages work and wonder if this will even post or if i will somehow accidentally delete it or attach it to the wrong place (In my experience, this is very likely to happen).

In this post I’m simply going to answer the suggested questions to help me get started:

Why are you blogging publicly, rather than keeping a personal journal?

I’m starting this blog as a business venture, to help me with my taxes at the end of the year. This is the 3rd year in a row I owe taxes, which one would think means I’m doing pretty good for myself, but I feel like I’m barely making it, in fact i have a ton of debt which is telling me I’m very much not making it. Don’t get me wrong, I am very blessed to be in the position I find myself, but there is definitely moves I can make, and this is one of those moves….I imagine i will write a blog that talks about this further.

What topics do you think you’ll write about?

This started as a travel blog idea because I do love to travel, specifically I’m a nerd that wants to visit all the national parks one day. I love hiking, camping, and seeing all the places that I never even dreamed existed. Growing up, my family was definitely low income, not much traveling going on there, didn’t even know to where or how one travels and goes on vacation. Thankfully, one life changing environmental science class, college, and a ton of geology classes got me traveling. Ventures are not only physical journeys one takes, in my life I’ve had many journeys, so instead of making this a travel blog, I’m making it about my ventures or adventures which lets me share other journeys I’ve traveled, for example my marriage and divorce, my journey through school as a first generation student trying to figure things out, and so many more.

Who would you love to connect with via your blog?

I would love to connect with anyone and everyone who finds anything I might say beneficial. Please let me know, its wild to think how we can easily connect to someone we would otherwise have no idea existed before the internet.

If you blog successfully throughout the next year, what would you hope to have accomplished?

If anyone sees my about me page, I would like to be able to describe myself better by the end of a year blogging. If not for this blog, I don’t know that I would take time to reflect on my thoughts, so hopefully I stick to it and become more in tune because of it.