We have aquired a new cat. We didn't WANT a new cat, but it seems to have chosen us, so who are we to argue. Someone apparently unceremoniously dumped it...and that's another pet peeve of mine to discuss on a different day.

I'm saying "it" because Mr. Hooter and I are not in agreement as to the cat's sex. I know I should know these things, as I've had cats my whole life, but cats are difficult...this cat is either female, neutered male, or immature male. I say male, Mr. Hooter says female. We shall see who is right. Just the other day, Mr. Hooter uttered the words that few wives hear spoken by a man even once in their lifetime: "I was wrong, you were right." I am eager to hear those words again, but I'm afraid I won't until I get this new cat to the vet for a check-up and possibly shots, assuming he/she hasn't already had them. As of now, the cat has been dubbed "Matilda." Don't look at me - I didn't come up with it.

Here's Sally and Matilda's first meeting...the exact moment of impact. Sally got too friendly to fast, which is a personality flaw of most dogs, I'm afraid. Sally paid the price and was about knocked into the next county.

More people...

Just encountered a guy going fishing...looked pretty scroungy, but that's what you look like when you fish. However, his hair was messed up, most of his teeth had apparently gone on permanent vacation, and let's just say he was a bit...overweight...

The back of his shirt proudly proclaimed, "SEXUAL BEAST"

*shudder*

People...

People never cease to amaze me. I can tell we're getting deeper into summer (well...the heat. It's not officially summer yet...*sigh*)...my patience is wearing thin. Working at a state park means constantly dealing with the public, and all the joys the public brings. A majority of people are nice, if sometimes ill-informed.

This afternoon I got what was probably a nice lady using bad judgement. Either that or she was on something.

She called and asked, "Do you have the number for the Lake City license place?"

Me: "Excuse me???"
Lady: "You know...the place you get your license."
Me: "Um...er....well, we sell fishing licenses...is that what you mean?"
Lady: "No...you know, where you get your driver's license."
Me: "Ma'am, are you aware that we're a state park?"
Lady: "Yes...I just thought you might have it."
???
Me: "Um...no...I'm not even sure where Lake City is...I'm afraid I can't help you."
Lady: "Oh...ok then..."

I mean...?!? Of course when I need a phone number, I don't look in the phone book or call information. I just pick a random state park and see if they know.

I worry for America.

Pet Pics!

Yes, it's time once again for Pet Pics, where I shamelessly post pictures of our pets the way some proud parents post endless photos of kids. Not that there's anything wrong with that...my kids are just the 4-legged kind. I figure it's been a good 6 months since any pet pics were up here, plus I don't have anything interesting to say, so why not...

Here is Miss Lucy, profoundly described by Mr. Hooter as "a very smart dog with very poor judgement", still confined mostly to the house after her injury a year ago, which is healing - just not very quickly. I think we'll discuss this with the vet on our next visit, not only because I'm concerned, but also because our house frequently exhibits the odour of Bigstinkydog, creating a flurry of activities including bathing Bigstankydog, washing Bigstankydog's bedding, and mopping the floor. Unfortunately for Mom, I don't think Bigstankydog would make a successful candle scent.

And here is Sally. Sally for some reason gets away with murder...could be the cute face or the sad eyes, but it's pretty shameless. Princess Sally is the master of sneaking her way on the couch...one second she's absorbed in her own doggie duties, and the second you turn your head, she's on the couch curled up fast asleep (or seemingly fast asleep). Notice here she's made herself at home on my head. I probably didn't care because I was doped up on pain meds...this was the day I cut the crap out of my finger and had stitches.

Sam is still around after 12+ years! Still leaving gigantic hairballs, both shed in clumps and barfed up to step on during the night with bare feet. He's also King of the Litterbox...he can take brand spanking new litter and in 3 seconds have you bagging it up and running for the outdoor trash barrel all with your breath held and face turning alarmingly purple. He also finds it necessary to take food from his food dish and put it in the big communal water dish, where he does nothing but stare at it. I've tried numerous experiments involving moving the bowls far apart, but nothing seems to deter this obsession.

And Amos, with her good buddy Lucy (who has the creepy-eye due to camera flash)...Amos is an outdoor cat who has the run of the park (he occasionally worms his way indoors to visit Lucy). You can't seen in the pic that he has no tail, just a little stub. This causes numerous park visitors, most from cities, to think that they've seen a genuine bobcat.

It's really hard to keep a straight and sincere face (though I do manage - don't want to hurt feelings) when I have to tell a crestfallen tourist that they've seen merely a run-of-the-mill housecat....and that not only are bobcats much bigger, they are not bright orange. At least not to my knowledge.

That's it for the clan...well, except for some fish and my corn snake named Orville. I'll try to get some pics of him up, but he's camera shy.

Memorial Day Weekend Blues

I hope everyone's enjoying the long Memorial Day weekend! Please enjoy it for my sake, and for the sake of everyone who has to work harder and longer so other folks can have a fun and safe break. One of the hazards of working in parks - everyone else's vacation time is my work-harder/longer-than-ever weekend. Also there is the joyous task of being at the mercy of some overly grouchy members of the public. I've already explained why you can't pick the wildflowers (especially since the cold snap last month did most of them in), why you can't just park your truck anywhere you want, and why there is a two-tent maximum per campsite. Each of these lovely folks conveyed to me in such sweet terms that they thought those rules were just "stupid." Luckily, all decided to comply with the "stupid" rules, but taking flak is getting old.

I talked Mr. Hooter into taking advantage of his long weekend by visiting his family - no use in him sharing my misery!


Instead of wallowing further into the pit of self-pity, I'll share this photo I snapped the other day of my pot of snapdragons. This particular plant just exploded with these really pretty pink and yellow blooms!

Thought for the Day

Maxine must have worked in a state park sometime in her life...

The Funniest/Weirdest Commercial Ever

Have you seen that Berries and Creme Starburst commercial? I've only seen it once, and I don't know anyone else who has! Well, except for the people who's seen it on my TiVo. Yes. I taped it...then we watched it at least 22 times. Apparently, while it makes no sense, it accomplishes the purpose...I've been craving Berries and Creme Starburst ever since.

www.berriesandcreme.com

Mullethunt 2007

Mullethunt 2007 has been heavily underway for awhile now for me and my fellow mullet hunters, and we're off to what looks like a VERY productive season, even more so than Mullethunt 2006. I thought it would be nice to share some of our most noteworthy catches:

This is a distance shot of a SuperFemmullet from the end of the '06 season. We had to be wary with this one, as she appeared highly irratible and a bit agitated. We decided to keep our distance and use the zoom.

We also utilized the team approach, using Marden as a decoy while I steadied the camera on nearby clothes rack.

Unfortunately the sight of the Superfemmullet and the resulting adrenaline rush had an adverse effect Mr. Hooter's brain. I found him in the Christmas section posing as a Potbellied Conehead.
After proper treatment, most notably food, he was deemed fit for more mullet hunting.

This was a very interesting specimen, and our most recent, caught by Travis at a nearby public event, which I like to refer to as "local doings" (pronounced "local do-in's"). Local doin's attract a wide variety of sometimes scantily clothed natives, and mullet sightings are rampant. This possibly one-of-a-kind mullet Travis dubbed "The Possum."


Here's another good mullet of note...yes, this is a RECENT photo, not one from 1986. I believe this is also a Travis catch, and if i remember right, while you can't tell from the photo, in real life it was actually TWO-TONED. What you can see is that this mullet-wearer takes his 'do seriously, going through the meticulous trouble of perming the "business" end.

ALETA put us a little behind on mullethunting, however, we're catching up quick and look to have a banner year. If you'd like to join our mullethunt, or need any tips, let me know! (Please remember to treat all mullets humanely, as many species are endangered.)

Happy Mother's Day...and general musings

A big Happy Mother's Day (late) this past Sunday to all the mothers out there, especially my own, and to several celebrating their first - Maria with Jett, Amber with little Gino, and Cheryl with one week old Benjamin. Seems everyone is just popping them out left and right. Don't look at me just yet. :)

So again I've been MIA - this time I had some in-service law enforcement training to replace some of the sub-par teachings of ALETA with some sound common-sense practices of State Parks. While the two weeks were exhausting, I did learn more in the last two weeks than in the whole three months of ALETA. Also, we got to see a bird poop on Kendra's head...I'd give my left big toe to have a picture of that.

Lots of things have happened since my last post! First of all, Cheryl finally had that kid. Marden and I visited Cheryl, BJ, and little Ben weekend before last when he was brand spankin' new at the hospital. They've got lots of good pics up on their blog, so go check him out - he's a cutie pie...and check out those feet!!!

There as been a new, but temporary, addition to the Hooter household. It's pretty common in the spring for me to take care of some orphaned critter, and for the second year in a row I'm caring for a baby coon. This is Rudy peeping over my shoulder...I've had him for a couple of weeks now, and he's just about doubled in size.

Some of you might remember Rascal from last year. Despite his scrawny, kind of pathetic beginnings, especially with a broken leg, Rascal grew up to be a big burly coon, and finally went off on his own. Not before he made

a nuisance of himself on a regular basis, especially while we were getting our engagement photos taken...he had quite an affinity for Marden's ears. I'll never forget Mom and Dad taking those photos - Mom holding a shade umbrella over our heads while trying desperately to keep a coon out of the picture with one foot! I'm pretty sure Rascal is the guilty party who's been raiding the trash cans in the park, though I couldn't prove it unless I got close enough...and I have no desire to walk up on a coon that *might* remember me, or just might try to tear my face off. In any case, I miss Rascal and hope he's doing well, but Rudy is becomming a character all his own.

And Sally is finally "fixed." She was NOT preggers with the muttpups after all, and now I can put her outside without holding my breath.

I got this picture from Tye, who's currently stationed in Guam as a navigator on a B-52. Apparently he got bored, because in addition to snorkeling and kite-surfing, he joined a scuba-diving club.

It's nice to see our soldiers and airmen hard at work defending our country, haha. So far he's sent some pretty awesome photos of fish...a much bigger variety than what I saw in Australia. I'm looking forward to him coming home at the end of this month...I'm eager to hear about Guam and all the stuff he got to do. Man...I should've joined the Air Force...

Pet Peeve

What is it about those Blue Tooth earpieces that make people think they look cool wearing them all the time?

Back In Town

I'm back now after a short (way too short) vacation out of town with Mr. Hooter and our friend Travis to Heber Springs for some fly fishing. It was a very good time, though I could have used another couple of weeks. Pictures are soon to follow. Travis experienced his very first trout on a fly rod, and after months of an extremely distrubing lack of fishing in our lives, Marden and I finally got to wet our fly lines again. However, time was so short it just felt like a tease.

Warning...this post is about to take a whiney turn - but I have to vent. I can't seem to get re-charged after getting back from ALETA! I'm always tired, run-down, and quite possibly the Pissiest Person Presently on the Planet. I have no time to even keep the house clean, let alone dabble in the hobbies that make my little world go 'round, leaving me to ponder if a certain job is really worth feeling like it owns my soul more and more. Life just wasn't meant to be this way. I haven't seen my fam in MO for who knows how long, and this part of Arkansas is feeling more alien every day. Sleep is my only real escape, but even my dreams are making me feel exausted. A couple of nights ago Sasquatch was giving me legal advice in a British accent.

Yep...I need a REAL vacation, but since we're just now hitting the busy season that's probably not going to happen for a while. *sigh*

On top of that, Sally is definately prego with the mutt-pups...hopefully the vet will still be able to take care of that issue. I think this rainy day is getting to me...

All Better

I got the stitches out of my hand this past Saturday, and as you can see - it healed very nicely and much quicker than I had hoped. I've got a farily impressive scar to show for it, but that's ok. Everyone knows that real chicks have scars, though I must admit most don't get them changing light bulbs.

On a different note - one related to my previous post - I saw a copy of the local section of a local paper today. Headline reads "4-Year Old Hunter Bags First Turkey"

I give up.

A turkey is just a bird? I think not.

Turkey is just a bird my foot...I'm pretty sure wild turkeys are some minion of an alternate dimension, only seen by human eyes when you're in your car or on un-huntable property.
Sunday evening, while visiting at the in-laws (the hubby was on a field training excercise - some army thing that did NOT sound fun), I decided to try my luck on an evening turkey hunt - my first solo hunt. Now, I'm just a fledgling turkey hunter. And to make things even more frustrating, I was spoiled by bagging a nice buck on my very first deer hunt last year. However, this would add up to be my 3rd year of turkey hunting with no turkey. This time I was determined.
Dressed in camo head to toe and armed with my trusty shotgun, a myriad of calls, and even some decoys, I headed for the woods. Sneaking through the trees like a soldier stalking Charlie on the Ho Chi Min trail, I first used an owl locator call, just like the pros. Nothing. No problem...I knew where these guys roosted. So I found a nice spot close to the area with lots of feathers and scratch marks where there HAD been turkeys, and proceeded to let out some calls. Nothing. Nothing for a looong time. Of course, I'm not altogether convinced that my calls even sound like a turkey...rather, they sounded more like a duck with a speech impediment. It's getting dark...my butt is numb...I'm pretty sure there's a tick stuck to my ear... At least I thought I knew where they roosted...apparently they'd decided to check into the nearest Holiday Inn Express. No turkeys. I headed home.
Well...it's just an evening hunt...I'll get 'em early in the morning when they first get up! I got up before the butt-crack of dawn, and by the time the sun started to rise I was camped out under a big oak, decoys set, waiting for that gigantic gobbler to poke his head into my sights. (Never mind that in my eagerness to get into the woods I'd sounded like a drunk elephant crashing around...a big no-no) And I waited. Let out some calls. Waited some more. My butt again went numb. Pretty sure there is another tick in a not-so-scratchable place. Just when I thought about getting up and trying another tactic, I heard a soft, "yelp yelp yelp" of a hen. They DO exist!!! "Hmmm...well, similar to humans - where there's a girl, there's got to be an amorous boy not far behind", I reasoned. An hour later I decided maybe not. I'd started to hallucinate that the turkey flock was watching me, asking each other, "how long do you think she's going to sit there?" I finally relented.
At this point I've really decided that turkey hunting is no more than a waste of valuable sleeping time. I think I'm going to stick to trout and deer...critters that I DO know exist, and are catchable. (And make a tasty supper)

So things have been interesting since I've returned from the Ivory Tower of Knowledge...what with the hazards of the new gun belt, a new employee who's evidently extremely sensitive and can't take constructive criticism, and the stitches in my finger and palm.

Today just kind of took the cake.

So I'm doing a monthly report, and Maintenance calls me to ask if I put another dog in the pen with Sally, and when I said no, they said..."um...well, you'd better get down here. They're kind of...um...stuck together." Ewww nooooooooo. Yes, there IS another dog in the pen, and NO, it's not mine. Actually, it looked like a fat half Rottweiler, half weenie dog, and he’d pried the door open. I shut the little hussy in the house and shooed him away, but I'm afraid it may take a bb-gun for him to get the message that Ashlie’s Red-Light Doggie District is now closed. Then I called the vet in a pure panic see what to do, because I SURE don’t want Beagleweenieweiler pups – they said since she’s getting fixed on the 25th, it’s no problem. Big sigh of relief.

Then, the Rudest People In The World called the park. I think what they wanted was directions to Crowley's Ridge, but the Ranger had answered the phone. They hung up on him because of his "smart mouth", which I don't understand because I was standing right there and heard the whole conversation - he was being very friendly. Then they called back and berated me about "how he was rude to my friend" and "how we need to screen our employees better and teach some customer service!" Then after getting no satisfaction from me (evidently), they called back and showed their sophistication by yelling, "F*&# you and your job, BITCH!" and hanging up. Classy.

It does all have a bright side. Sally will not be a mama of any strange looking puppies, and I was told by my friend Cheryl that I am now a real officer, having been dubbed the title of "bitch."

Grace Strikes Again

Well, it's about that time for something stupid to happen to me requiring a visit to the E.R., and Friday that stupid thing happened. While changing a lightbulb with a long pole (which was broken) I lost my grip on the pole and redecorated my hand. This is 12 stitches later...ew ew icky poo!

I'm just fine...now the stitches are getting annoying and I can get them out in less than a week. After that, should be good as new. And I'm already tired of hearing, "How many Ashlie's does it take to change a light bulb?"

Picture pages, picture pages...

Yay pictures! Finally, yes I know. So here we are at the driving track. What you can't tell is that this car is going at a very high rate of speed - I believe this was during pursuit drills. During pursuits, we students drove our cars (one at a time of course) after a "suspect", which was an instructor. After riding with this particular instructor, I decided his mental stability may be in question. All the while another (also very crazy) instructor stayed on our tail, trying to distract us by slamming us in the rear end, running us off the road, and general fun stuff along those lines. If we were able to blow this picture up, I believe you'd see three students who just crapped themselves.

More driving (notice all the dust...that is actually pure panic in solid form):

And next we have a photo of us being all tactical during Tactical Shooting Week. Obviously I wasn't being tactical - I had already gone...I was sitting on a bucket taking a picture.

Felony traffic stops...(just a walk-through...the "real" ones were kinda crazy)

FREEDOM!!!

Howdy folks! I hear you've been wondering...Well, I'm out of school and am now a full-fledged Ossifer of the Law. I now have to sit in my office all geared up, complete with a bullet-proof vest which makes me feel like a fat stuffed turkey. Law Enforcement also comes with some unexpected hazards...for instance, I keep forgetting that with this gun belt I'm wider...I forget to open the door wider, and as a consequence I keep getting stuck in the door. Going to have to work on that. And today my seatbelt got stuck in my gun belt, which resulted in a not-so-graceful exit from my truck this morning. And finally, when taking a bank deposit in while in uniform and geared up, it's a good idea to refrain from getting a free donut that the bank offers, lest you want to hear snickering from other bank customers. All this I've learned in a single day on the job. Not to mention last night when on my first patrol as an officer, my first stop to check the welfare of some campers after a hellacious storm we had - I brilliantly locked the keys in the ranger truck running and with the headlights on. Makes me wonder what's in store for tomorrow?

Anyway - so sorry I've been MIA lately...things just got ultra-busy, and my weekend time was at a premium. The last three weeks of ALETA were interesting to say the least, and are worth recapping. What with the screeching tires, shooting each other, the meltdowns, and getting caught by insturctors while pretending to be "beamed up" through the skylight. Soooo...here we go:

WEEK 10:
This week we began practical excercises, which would last the rest of ALETA time. We were divided into groups - squads A&B, squads C&D (yay! C was known as the "screw-up rogue squad", which Kendra, Travis, and myself happened to belong to), and the whiney E&F squads. Each group did something different, then rotated the next week.

We (C&D) started out at the range for "Tactical Shooting" with handguns and shotguns, plus training on the FATS machine - which is like a huge real-life video game. Our luck would have it that most of the week was rainy, but that didn't stop us from being all tactical. Lots of running and shooting. Lots of yelling. Lots of getting soaked. But, rest assured that we can now make our paper man targets sorry for being printed while on the move...and as i said, we were very tactical. The most fun part of the week was called "Hogan's Alley", which is a course set up for one person to go through at a time, which I failed miserably. The point of Hogan's Alley in a nutshell is "DON'T SHOOT THE GOOD GUYS!"
I shot the good guys...at least a couple of them. What happens is you're given the scenario of being called to a situation where shots have been fired including several cops and several bad guys. All the while you're sneaking around this course, hiding behind walls, tires, and other obstacles, and you come into contact with targets and have to decide whether to shoot them or not. In my run, a cop and a paperboy bit it. :) I'm sorry, but in a "shootout" situation, if you're a cop in plain clothes, don't hold a big gun aimed at me and hold your little 2" badge down at your leg...Also, if you're a paperboy, don't look like a long haired 40-year-old creep holding a rolled-up newspaper like a shotgun, or you, too, will eat some lead. Needless to say, I got a big ZERO on that excercise....which is ok, cause Travis did too, as well as most of the class.
The other fun thing we did was night firing - firing 25 rounds at targets by only flashlight, and the other 25 rounds by only blue flashing lights. I was a complete retard with my flashlight, which chose that particular moment to go dead. I had to borrow someone else's, which was completely different...Travis said it looked like my flashlight was trying to attack me for most of the excercise. The blue light excercise was a tad better, though since I was on the end of the line and farthest away from the lights I could barely see...pretty much I just aimed in the general area and let rounds fly. Still, all in all I did pretty good...my final target only had 3 rounds out of 50 outside the target area.

WEEK 11:
This week was Driving Course Week...also known now as The Week I Broke Kendra's Hand. More about that in a minute. For driving, we were given several old state trooper cars with lights and sirens for these excercises, and it was a complete blast. Never would I have dreamed that driving 30 m.p.h. through cones could be so fun and hair-raisingly scary at the same time. Best part was doing the controlled skids on wet concrete...at the end of the excercise we each got to do an uncontrolled 360 as fast as we could go...you can imagine how that went! I think my brief but successful stint as a 2-time dirt track Powderpuff Champion must have helped, especially on the pursuit course, which was definately NOT done at 30 m.p.h.
So one evening we received baton training, which was actually supposed to be several weeks ago, but they missed it somehow. Kendra's my partner, and we're facing each other swinging away with our batons, just like we're supposed to be doing (though instead of "GET ON THE GROUND!" like we're told to, we're yelling stuff like "QUIT LITTERING!" and "PUT THE DOG ON A LEASH!") and somehow we get too close, and WHACK! Kendra's hand was about twice the size it's supposed to be. Oops. As you can imagine, I felt about 2" big for the next week.

WEEK 12:
We all breathed a HUGE sigh of relief...this was actually the last week!!! This week we had Building Searches and Felony Stops...which Kendra had to do in a cast. Heh. The interesting thing about these excercises is that they include "simunition", which means we use guns a lot like the ones we carry, only they shoot rounds which are kind of like paintballs - just smaller and more painful. We were able to wear helmets and body armor, but that doesn't protect arms and legs. Pretty much this week of training made me scared to death to be a cop - a lovely way to end 12 weeks of training. Luckily I only ended up with one bad simunition hit in the leg...the rest on the arms were pretty mild. All in all, it was pretty fun...we had some good thinking scenarios, as well as some pretty wild scenarios where it was a shoot-'em-up-free-for-all.

And finally - graduation! It was as cheesy as I'd ever dreamed graduation from ALETA would be. A couple of bright spots were that State Parks graduated well - Travis sang the National Anthem, and Matt and I tied for first place in PT scores. Travis WOULD have taken top academic honors, but missed a single question on his last test which knocked him out of the standings. When the scores are so close that I can have a 95+ average and still be down halfway in the class rank, anything can happen.

So now here we are...all graduated and back to our "normal" lives. I suppose my posts will be more regular now, and hopefully will regain some of the daily happenings humor of pre-ALETA. I hope that ALETA hasn't ruined my sense of humor. I don't think it has...Travis told me that if God has a sense of humor at all, when we die we'll be assigned to gate duty and can make fun of everyone coming through. But who are we kidding - you know we'll be assigned to some kind of spiritual doggy doodie pick-up crew for our immature behavior as of late.

All in all, it's been an interesting experience. I'm so glad to have my "real" life back after 3 months of hiatus. The only thing that made it halfway bearable was being there with friends. I have to say that the wry humor of Travis made life easier, and for Kendra and I to survive living together through three months of duress says a lot for a friendship. Thanks guys.

p.s. - Barring any more technical difficulties, pictures are soon to follow!

3 More Weeks...*sigh*

9 whole weeks down...can I make the final push? We're seeing the light at the end of the ALETA tunnel, but it's still kind of dim. Things have been slightly improving. Oh, ALETA is still a cesspool of ignorance and unprofessionalism stuck in about 1972, but the blatant sexual harassment has let up a tad. The constant gay-bashing still goes on, and people (students and instructors alike) still act like grade-school idiots...maybe I'm just finally getting used to it. This past week we were in class a total of 8 hours a day, with about 2 total hours of actual good information. The rest was just ridiculous filler in the form of students and instructors acting like supreme boobs. I feel my IQ dropping on a daily basis. One thing's for sure...after March 30 I'm going to need a vacation.

This pic of Kendra on the way home Friday pretty much sums it up as to the way we feel:

Just dadgum dog tired...

The Ivory Tower of Knowledge Casts a Long Shadow of Ignorance

Ha. That's a quote from my friend Travis this week, and I think he hit the nail on the head.

Another week down, which leaves us only FOUR MORE WEEKS of the police academy!!! I can almost taste graduation day...

Speaking of tasting graduation day, they are actually going to serve a donut buffet. Seriously.

Our illustrious guest speaker this week was an incredibly arrogant and fairly portly fellow from the FBI who came to teach us about Constitutional Law - a subject we SHOULD have been taught in the first month, because it's very important stuff. All about protecting the public from the likes of police like us (otherwise known as Redcoats), and good info we need to keep our butts out of a sling by not violating someone's civil rights. Of course, it went in one ear and right out the other with most of the class.

So back to Mr. FBI. Apparently, on the FBI application, there must be a box you can check asking "Are you a pompous ass? If so, check this box." Every FBI agent so far to lecture us has been incredibly full of himself. This particular Mr. FBI referred to ALETA as "The Ivory Tower of Knowledge." THAT is just about made me fall out of my seat. I managed to stifle the involuntary incredulous snort before attracting attention. Ivory Tower of Knowledge...

Not much to comment about on Constitutional Law...the only thing good I can say is that it was excellent information, and that Mr. FBI actually taught rather than spoon feeding it to us at a 3rd grade level. However, he did yell and scream a lot...it was kind of like having an entire week with a "hell and brimstone" preacher. There were times when you just wanted to jump up and yell, "Tell it to us brotha!!! Amen!!! I got tha spirit now, hallelujah!!!" After a solid week of it, kind of leaves you on edge with a high stress level.

And speaking of stress, let's talk about Academy Cuisine. After a hard day of sitting in class, I love to relax and sit down to a hot meal of...

...whatever the hell this is. It's supposed to be "steak fingers"...I managed one bite before my mouth, throat, and stomach all gave a resounding, "NO WAY." And those other things are tater tots. I figure ALETA has stock somewhere in a tater tot factory, because we have them a lot. And for dessert, vanilla pudding COMPLETE with a cherry. Can you imagine the lunch ladies? "hmm...this vanilla pudding just looks so blah...what can we do to make students think they're getting a gourmet dessert? I know...let's put CHERRIES on it!!!"

Somewhere in ALETA there resides the Cherry Bandit who loves putting cherries on things. It doesn't stop with vanilla pudding...cherries are showing up everywhere. The next night:

Yes, that is now CHOCOLATE pudding with a cherry. But it keeps coming...

We've been able to grab a half a grapefruit pretty much every morning since we started ALETA. But now for some reason, in the 8th week, we're offered (drumroll)...grapfruit halves with CHERRIES!!! I feel so special...

Who knows what we might get next week...whipped creme? a whole grapefruit? I'm on the edge of my seat with anticipation...

That's about all the reacapping I can do of illustrious week 8. I'll keep trying to get pics of us in action in our sexy BDU pants. Have a great week!

PEPPER SPRAY IS THE DEVIL

Another week down! And boy, was this one a doozie...

So we started off the lovely week with the subject of Death Investigation, complete with even more shocking pictures. These weren't quite as bad, though...and actually I found myself forgetting to be grossed out and more intrigued with the investigative process. Kendra, however, was glued to the instructor's every word. If there was ever anyone born to be a crime scene investigator, it's Kendra. But we did learn some pretty cool stuff, such as how to work a crime scene and how to take fingerprints, which we then put into practice in practical excercises.

Then, on to the activity everyone was dreading - the Pepper Spray practical.

From what I've gathered, the purpose of spraying officers with pepper spray is that 1) they know what it feels like, and 2) they know they can survive it and work through it to survive whatever situation they are in when they are sprayed. I'm glad they don't take the same stance with our actual guns.

So this is the scenario:
Officer stands in front of the instructor armed with a baton and gun loaded with 3 simunition rounds (like paintball, only more painful), and proceeds to inform the instructor they are under arrest. Our instructor was a sadistic man named Mr. Poole. Mr. Poole sprays the officer, and the officer then has to use the baton on assailant #1 wearing a big protective suit. Once Mr. Poole deems assailant#1 down, assailant#2 (also in a protective suit) comes running from the other side, and the officer has to draw and fire 3 rounds into assailant#2, all without dropping the baton or any other gear. THEN, after all that, the officer has to use the radio to call in for help. If any piece of gear is dropped, the officer has to find it and pick it up.

Sounds simple...they even told us that most people have a good 20 second window before the stuff starts working, which is plenty of time to perform the excercise. BALONEY.

It seems I'm not one of those lucky people:

Me: "You're under arrest! You're under arrest!"
Mr. Poole: "I don't believe you"
Me: "You're under (spray) aaalglihasssssssssssaahhhh!"

My left eye immediately clamps shut. I can still see assailant #1, so I go whack him. After the first whack, my right eye clamps shut and my throat also decides to constrict, and my mind screams "OH SHIT!!!" I cease to remember anything from this point, but we all got a DVD recording it all. I managed to whack assailant #1 two more times, then turned around and couldn't get my gun out of the holster. I must've heard assailant#2 running at me, because I ran backwards and managed to get the gun out and shoot, then managed to get the radio and call in successfully. But then the fun REALLY started...everything that was clamped shut just clamped shut harder, and I could feel things starting to really swell. I was led over to the decontamination tanks, where I literally thought life was ending. All I can compare the feeling to is to imagine taking fresh habenero peppers and squeezing the juice on your face, in your eyes, and in your mouth, and inhaling some just for fun. I have no idea of the time frame at this point, but it felt like HOURS before I could open my eyes under their own power rather than prying them open with my fingers.

Travis, who had gone a few people before me and was at the tanks with me, said, "you looked like a botox disaster with 5 gallons of snot on your face...the most pathetic human being I've ever seen...still alive, at least."

I think, if I ever get into a situation where I have to pepper spray anyone, I'll just shoot them. I think it would be more humane.

I'm going to try to get some pictures this week...I know these posts are kinda boring with just text, but it's nearly impossible to get pics of ourselves in "action" at the academy. I'll work on it, though!