Bitching.

Since I only write nice things here, it must be surprising to you two reading this shit, that I am fucking sick of Peter.

On the first trip, the bad headlights made me a daytime driver, the coding did a lot to help out on the city miles, but nothing for the Canada style. I had this post all written out in my mind, but then yesterday happened.

You see, I am truly a horrible person. One of my best friends is a Korean, to him I try to offer my dogs as lunch at least once a day. He is a nice man, he calls me dump enough fucktard to forget an ear from my kid ( My son has microtia  so he is kinda right more than I am.), helps me out with his medical stuff more than anyone since there is a minor language barrier when I do it all alone. He actually receives the emails from the docs as we do, and then he spends hours on explaining things to me when I freak out.

I get out of tickets, I sometimes don't even slow down when my RD goes off just to see, how it plays out.

Tara said in her thread that she's never met anyone who's as extrovert as I am, and she was wrong. I've been told in my life I'm a lot of things but see, this is the life of a blond.

I've been hit on so many times in my life by men and by boys, those and cops kinda blend in. It's a game. I get to do what I want, and who cares about anyone else?

Now unlike even I think, I have more than one friend.

This is what happened to an other friend of mine.

He parked his car within the spot, he got out, he was told by the guy behind him, that his car will be hit if he doesn't move forward (he was in the spot, clearly). The dude wanted to park in the front without blocking an entry, which is cool, he just went about it wrong all the way.

Now, my friend is a car guy, he knows how much space he needs to leave so the one in front of him is needed for the one in front to get out. He also knows very well that his passport says American.

So, a white guy does this to him, after telling him to move, and after being rude?

See a white guy? he left without a ticket.

My friend had a scratch and he got basically told that because his blood lines are not from here, he should be happy.

He got insulted in front of people, the white guy hit him and went to his flat without reporting it, and nothing was given to the one causing trouble?

Yes, let's use me as the counter argument.

I'm mildly blond with a bad mouth and a kind attitude. There are not many states left where I have not been pulled over without a ticket. Fun for me, so much fun.

In my country it for like this.

We have a few cops, and no court will ever let you off if they caught you since they know, and we all know you were speeding in the wrong place. You also lose your license there if you go to zebras when it's not your turn. Rough city rules. We know it, and we play by them. Tickets are big. Like really big.

I've been pulled over so many times I can't count that high. I can pass as a female on a good day, so that helps, but here is what my Asian friend had to go through.

The white man was given no fault.  As for my friend: He got abused verbally,and his car was hit. Cops show up, and go "Mmm Kay.. Lets leave it."

He has to go through their superiors and through a court to get anything moving.

Now, I was told this is the land of the free.
I should be excluded too.

Tara's first fishing lesson.

On Friday I went to fetch my car. He had been at the dealership for an engine light for the week and I had an awesome rental Jeep I didn't want to take with me to our extremely well planned weekend fishing trip up north Washington.

After getting him freed from the jail known as the dealership, I was merely trying to make him use units I recognize and the damn engine light came back on. It took serious effort to get him out, the hair was whirled and I had to be nice and all that effort for nothing. I don't mean to sound bitter, but after I had done all that, the engine light coming back on felt like a slap. Damn Peter is kicking my ass.

On Saturday I was up at six, had my coffee and mentally prepared a shopping list of all the things I needed to get for our fishing trip. Sadly I have all the gear in the world in Finland, here nothing so shopping could not be avoided.

Anyway, at one o'clock I was all packed up with groceries included and my goal was to hit the road for all of a hundred miles and be at the cabin early to set up everything, so when my friend Tara would arrive, we could go straight to the main activity, fishing.

The lovely Jeep I have now made the 100 miles take me over four hours, mainly because shifting lanes was nearly impossible for the lack of power. Also, that thing handles sidewinds like nothing I've experienced in my life besides a C4 Picasso Citroen. The brakes were excellent I'm sure, since I am not brave enough to test them.

5.30, two and a half hour after we were supposed to meet at the cabin we rented, I made it there.

One happy driver, one not so much.

We set up my tent, since I truly sleep better outside and since it was going to rain why not go for the luxury, went for a walk, ate and my jalapenos tried to kill yet an other person. Since she is not big on kitchen stuff and I am, I was chopping jalapenos into the bacon pasta, and asked if she want's a few on the side too (I usually put a few extras to cook on the side, a trick I use while cooking for the kids to not make the whole dish too spicy for them) after tasting one that apparently was a mild one I was chopping, she told me I was wrong, those were green peppers.

It was a beautiful place for sure.

After dinner, she agreed with me about them being jalapenos, and after we had a long discussion about me never trying to kill her again, we moved on to more important subjects.

 I told her my expert theories about fishing ( fake it till you make it, and if you don't even then lie.) and she was extremely impressed with the amount of my knowledge.

Since this was mainly us getting to be idiots with no tiny men running around, I talked Tara into drinking a bottle of red with me, and a half way to an other, we talked about life and went to sleep. Great you might think?

The next morning our brave 5am fishermen were sleeping, as we did all the way to about 10 am.  After that, we collected our things, and went to look for a bait shop, a place to buy licenses and after failing in both, we went to her family cottage determined to at least have a chance in wetting out hooks.

So there we were, two women with a goal. Our gear would not leave the place brand new, and we would surely earn the title for the best non bimmer related fishing trip of the year.

I often have moments where I know I need to shut up or I will regret it, and since this trip was starting to be full of them, I kinda was not in full strength of the mind or body when we were leaving the cabin and asked Tara to drive very, very slowly so I could keep up ( She drove like a mad woman from hell. I know for sure she went over 30 mph once.) and we proceeded to the beach while I was making fun of her bringing chairs for us.

There is my macho fishing partner.

By twelve we saw water finally, and after an hour, we were done. We had gone through enough mud to last a life time and after I pulled her off again and I told her going to a grocery store is the only way we are going to have fish pictures to show from this disaster.

So there we sat, looking at our shoes and comparing notes on how this weekend was supposed to go, and we came to the conclusion that being in Washington screwed us over, so we are doing this again in Vancouver in a week or two.

All in all, a fuckup. A fun one, but a fuckup and a load of mud.

See how happily she's sitting in her portable chair?

See, my boots look clean. but wait.

yeah, cleaning before using.

So, no lures went into the sea, no lake was found, everything was messed up, but fuck I haven't had a female friend I can truly enjoy life like Tara. That is worth a lot of mud.

Anna