A circle of trust, and a windy airstrip.

Much like Robert DeNiro in a certain dumb/funny movie, I have a circle of trust.

Lately, there have been a few new people added to that circle. That makes me happy.

There are also a few people who are no longer in my circle of trust.  It doesn't make me sad as much as it disappoints me.

I give people just enough trust to prove themselves, but not enough to have anything over on me.  At least, not in the beginning.

I can count on one hand the number of people who know all my deepest, darkest secrets, insecurities, fears, ambitions, and dreams.  They might not each know all of them, but collectively, they do. This is more of the "inner" circle.

The "outer" circle isn't making me very proud. 

Otherwise, things are good. I'm stranded somewhere in southern Wyoming, I'm starving and sleep deprived, but there is an upside to everything.  This airstrip has wifi, and my dad has a plane and is currently flying over here to pick me up.

My dad is kind of awesome.

Gotta see the positives. 

What was I supposed to do, curl up in a ball and start crying?

This isn't the worst thing that's happened to me. Not by a long shot.

So on a terrible day, just imagine, that you could be stranded at an airstrip in Dixon, Wyoming after 30 hours without sleep and 300 dollars spent in diesel.

As I set my trusty Halliburton back on the ground against a giant loader bucket, laid out my jacket and my vest on the ground to lay on, I looked up at the sky at a cloud shaped like an old man's face. He seemed to be smiling at me as if to say, "You crazy kid. You'll look back on this one day and laugh."  Moments later, the old man was gone.

I think I'll just laugh about it today and get it over with.

The Oilfield Romantic

P.S: North Dakota just got a whole lot better. I'm suddenly hating the idea of leaving.

In the very first post I talked about looking for the perfect North Dakota sunset. 

The one last night must have been pretty close.