Ever since getting married, I've been really carrying over "sleeping time" into "getting ready for my day" time. Even with an internship that quasi requires getting dolled up, I usually wake up with just barely enough time to shower and clothe myself, and then hurriedly put on makeup in my office, which has resulted in it being MONTHS since I have straightened my hair. This is a monstrous deal for those of you who have been victims of me being unable to meet up with you until the ironing is done.
This morning, my notoriously small bladder woke me up a little after six, and little Peli was next to me, looking as innocent as possible, but experience told me otherwise. I knew her bladder was as ready to burst as mine, and the age old dilemma arose: Do I take her outside first, or do I relieve the pressure in my own system? I evaluated my own comfort, and decided I wouldn't make it all the way upstairs, wait long enough for her to go, and then back downstairs without making my own puddle on the floor. I leaned over to my slumbering husband and shook him, asking him to wake up and let the dog out please, but he was too unconscious to know what was going on (I call it laziness, but he claims he doesn't remember). I convinced myself that I could make it to the bathroom and still have time to let Peli out, and scurried across the cold wooden floor to answer nature's call. After relishing the euphoria that only comes with emptying a very full pee pouch, I went and opened the front door to allow Peli to experience her own joy. When she didn't go outside, warning bells went off in my head, and I stepped forward to turn on a light, and naturally, that step went right into a puddle of urine.
Blast.
So after cleaning up one of the great lakes, I found myself more awake than I usually am when my alarm goes off at seven and I snooze it until 7:15. Thus, here I am, contributing to the world in the best way I know how: blogging.
Yesterday was date night, which turned into date day because I was only at my internship for two hours, classes don't start until today, and the Boys and Girls Club is off until Thursday, and Bobby had the day off too. We buckled Peli into the car (because yes, dogs need seat belts too, and you can find an adapter at your local major pet store) and headed off in search of an animal shelter (because that's my idea of a good time). We ended up in Spanish Fork and found the cutest dog that we would adopt if we could (I'm still not convinced we can't, but I'm a little illogical in this area) and a tiny little kitten that sounds like it's barking when it meows. We bought a toy and a collar there (much cheaper than a pet store, and it goes to keeping one of the animals from being put to sleep), and headed off to find some place to hike. We ended up in Payson canyon, wandering around streams and the like, and we tested out our new water filter. The water was gross looking (the kind I wouldn't let Peli drink), but the filter worked so well that our water didn't even have a taste to it (I wonder if maybe they could make a crystal light flavored filter?). This area is also where we discovered Peli hesitates right outside of a body of water not because she is afraid, but because she wants to try to leap as far as she can over it and is trying to figure out the best way to land. She's kind of a super dog.
Further up the road, we ran into a mountain biker (not literally) who was telling us about some good trails nearby, but my focus was more on Peli to make sure she didn't take this newfound love of water and attempt leaping into a stream that looked a lot like Willy Wonka's chocolate river. Apparently, there was a great trail a little further up the road, and when we came to the entrance to a boyscout camp, Bobby asked, "Didn't the guy say we had to get through the boyscout camp to find the trail head?" I had no idea, so I just sorta nodded and headed in, ignoring the giant "NO TRESPASSERS" signs and the very large dogs locked up in an outdoor kennel.
It should be noted at this point that after walking through this camp, I have decided that boy scouts are no tougher than girl scouts. There was a pool, horseback riding, and porta potties. PORTA POTTIES??? We had wooden planks that we had to do our business through, and there were always stories of black widows and hornets living right under the 2x4's we put our bums on, so the next time I hear any smack from a boy scout about how they're so much tougher than girl scouts, I'm going to stick a wasp in their underwear and run away giggling. You have been warned.
My attention span didn't appreciate all the boy scoutiness for long, and in my boredom I asked if we could return home. I was tired, and I could tell Peli was tired. We started the trek back, and when we came in sight of the gated entrance, we saw a car and a man standing outside of the car, obviously giving directions. He turned and looked in our direction, and the logical thing to do would have been to just walk out, feign innocence/illiteracy, and go home.
Well, logical isn't fun, is it?
So instead, Bobby pointed up a very steep hill next to us and said to go that way, and to hurry. We ran up into the trees, and once we were out of sight, he stopped and said, "Isn't the river between us and the road?"
Blast.
We decided to give it a go anyway, and Peli with her mad skills managed to jump almost entirely over the river, getting just a little wet at the end. We hiked a bit further and came to another part of the river that we had to cross, as the road was just on the other side. There was a very narrow bridge at this point that was built across the spill way, and didn't go all the way across. When it stopped just short of the valve, Bobby picked up Peli and carried her across, as her gracefulness is almost equivalent with mine. When we reached the road, Bobby's arms were covered with mud, and rather than recognize them as tokens of our triumphant escape, he stated he wanted to wash them off in the stream right next to where we parked. We walked back down the road and eventually got to the stream, and I was trying to pull Peli back from licking some bones that were strewn about. I looked down at Bobby, and right next to where he was standing was the massive rib cage of a deer. He was looking around, and then started walking very briskly back to the car.
"Gross," I said, indicating the skeleton. He told me he saw three of them right next to each other, and that usually meant a bear or mountain lion lived nearby. As a former teddy bear lover, I was recently converted to the wet-my-pants-when-I-see-a-bear after having seen Grey's Anatomy last Thursday (the guy's INTESTINES were in Cristina's HANDS), and booked it to the car. I am often paranoid and freaked out when it's unnecessary, but I feel Bobby's acceleration makes my terror a little more justified.
And now that it's the time that I would be waking up, I guess it's time to bathe myself. Hot showers in the morning are so hard to turn off.
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