Gather round children... its story time.
First of all, when do you use an apostrophe in "its". Like above, as in "it is", or when its possessive, like "it can't use it's thumb"?
Now on with the story:
Finding Pavlovsdog is Asheville this week reminded me of my favorite hurricane escape. In 1998 we had a couple of hurricanes here in NC, Bertha & Bonnie. At the time, I was living on a small secluded island in the outer banks called Ocracoke. For those of you who don't know Ocracoke it's 16 miles long, with 14 miles of National Seashore (untouched beach), and the southern most 2 miles is the actual village of Ocracoke. You can only get there by ferry, the short one from Hatteras or one of the 2+ hour ones from the mainland. It was great, but that's another story.
So... hurricane Bonnie was bareing down on us as a weak Category 2 storm. We were advised to evacuate and since it was close to the end of the season (about this time of year, actually) everyone on the island under the age of 30, and a couple of people over 30, decided to really go some place. Someone knew someone in Asheville, so the 30 or so of us packed up and began the 400+ mile trip west.
I'll spare you the details of the normally 3 hour turned 12 hour trip to Raleigh, where we spent the night in a seedy motel, and get to Asheville.
We stayed at somebody's boyfriend's Mom's house who, although a bit overwhelmed by the sight of 30 strange, weary and dirty pirates
pulling into her driveway, was very hospitable and quite entertaining. It was a big house, but not that big, so those of us who couldn't fit inside slept in tents outside in the yard, unless you didn't bring a tent, then you slept with your pillow and a blanket on the ground (me). It was the first and only time I've slept naked under the stars, an experience I wouldn't trade for much.
So, what do ya think a bunch of vagabonds from the Republic of Ocrackoe would do with themselves for a week besides sponge off someone's compassionate Mom? Get drunk? Get high? Go skinny dipping and waterfall jumping? Busk for cash and food? Have an orgy?
A: without end, without end, of course, only by necessity, and almost.
Even though I was having soooo much fun, my super conservative christian up-bringing could only be pushed so far. Unfortunately, when I had the chance, I just couldn't follow through with making out with the 2 gals who were rubbing on me for about an hour, and who had already started making out with each other. I know, I know.... I'm a pussy. I don't belong here... go ahead, kick me out. I'm a
. (I did learn my lesson, though, so any of you honeys who would like to help me redeem myself feel free.)
After a week of spending countless hours sitting on a curb downtown (maybe Lexington, by the town square?) and blowing all the money I had except just enough for gas (see, being Mr. Resposibility pays off now & then), a few of us piled into my '89 accord and headed back east to the salt, the sea and the sun. And our jobs.
I will forever love Asheville for it's liberty and creative energy, and I'll never forgive myself for not taking advantage of my "opportunities" there. But really, would it be a better story if I had gone through with it?
First of all, when do you use an apostrophe in "its". Like above, as in "it is", or when its possessive, like "it can't use it's thumb"?
Now on with the story:
Finding Pavlovsdog is Asheville this week reminded me of my favorite hurricane escape. In 1998 we had a couple of hurricanes here in NC, Bertha & Bonnie. At the time, I was living on a small secluded island in the outer banks called Ocracoke. For those of you who don't know Ocracoke it's 16 miles long, with 14 miles of National Seashore (untouched beach), and the southern most 2 miles is the actual village of Ocracoke. You can only get there by ferry, the short one from Hatteras or one of the 2+ hour ones from the mainland. It was great, but that's another story.
So... hurricane Bonnie was bareing down on us as a weak Category 2 storm. We were advised to evacuate and since it was close to the end of the season (about this time of year, actually) everyone on the island under the age of 30, and a couple of people over 30, decided to really go some place. Someone knew someone in Asheville, so the 30 or so of us packed up and began the 400+ mile trip west.
I'll spare you the details of the normally 3 hour turned 12 hour trip to Raleigh, where we spent the night in a seedy motel, and get to Asheville.
We stayed at somebody's boyfriend's Mom's house who, although a bit overwhelmed by the sight of 30 strange, weary and dirty pirates
pulling into her driveway, was very hospitable and quite entertaining. It was a big house, but not that big, so those of us who couldn't fit inside slept in tents outside in the yard, unless you didn't bring a tent, then you slept with your pillow and a blanket on the ground (me). It was the first and only time I've slept naked under the stars, an experience I wouldn't trade for much.So, what do ya think a bunch of vagabonds from the Republic of Ocrackoe would do with themselves for a week besides sponge off someone's compassionate Mom? Get drunk? Get high? Go skinny dipping and waterfall jumping? Busk for cash and food? Have an orgy?
A: without end, without end, of course, only by necessity, and almost.
Even though I was having soooo much fun, my super conservative christian up-bringing could only be pushed so far. Unfortunately, when I had the chance, I just couldn't follow through with making out with the 2 gals who were rubbing on me for about an hour, and who had already started making out with each other. I know, I know.... I'm a pussy. I don't belong here... go ahead, kick me out. I'm a
. (I did learn my lesson, though, so any of you honeys who would like to help me redeem myself feel free.)After a week of spending countless hours sitting on a curb downtown (maybe Lexington, by the town square?) and blowing all the money I had except just enough for gas (see, being Mr. Resposibility pays off now & then), a few of us piled into my '89 accord and headed back east to the salt, the sea and the sun. And our jobs.
I will forever love Asheville for it's liberty and creative energy, and I'll never forgive myself for not taking advantage of my "opportunities" there. But really, would it be a better story if I had gone through with it?
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
When it's a contraction of "it is", it's written with an apostrophe: "it's".
It's a beautiful day.
When it's a posessive, meaning "belonging to it", it's apostropheless: "its". (This is why this issue is confusing; usually posessives have the apostrophe, but in this case the apostrophe is omitted to distinguish the posessive pronoun from the contraction.)
The dog just licked its nuts.