DUDE

We're in a house. No duplex for us.

And the bonus... fenced backyard! It's not a "secure" fence, but it's enough of a psychological deterrent that we can play with Loki off-leash. He's found doggy nirvana... I don't think he's ever had daily access to a fenced yard. Several fetch-playings a day make a happy puppy.

Pictures... eventually.

Can I get a Collective Finger Crossing?

Our house is supposed to be ready for move-in on Wednesday.

Buffering... Buffering... Buffering...

Welcome to my holding pattern. We're in housing purgatory right now. We had a great plan for summer... rent a house! Stevens Point is a college town, so there are always summer rentals a-plenty. We get cheap (if slightly college-ghetto) housing, they get to not have their house sit empty... win-win situation!

Through Shaun's mom, we found a house (two bedroom, close to downtown and therefore bars, not an apartment so we don't have to worry about Loki bothering neighbors) that seemed to suit our needs... and it was set to be available just as we got home. Good, Great, GRAND!

But... you know... shit happens. Shit, in this case, involved the house's former occupant being, shall we say, slightly hesitant to leave. We were supposed to be able to move in on the June 2nd, but the landlord called and said that she wouldn't be out for a few extra days, so they'd give us an apartment to live in, rent-free, until she moved out.

Well... it's the 19th. Apparently she JUST moved out, but left the house in such a state that they feel the need to go through and document/photograph because it could become a legal issue.

Good news... we're living rent-free.

Bad news... we haven't unpacked yet. We call it "indoor camping." We didn't bring any pots or pans over, so we're pretty much living on sandwiches (which suits me just fine since I LOVES me a good sammich) and other foods that don't require cooking. Honestly, it's not as unhealthy as you'd imagine. I haven't gained any weight thus far, at least.

I'm not complaining, I swear. I've lived without flush plumbing. Last year, Shaun and I lived with scary mold in the ceiling of our a smaller-than-one-room apartment. For two weeks, our heat was stuck on, and we only had one window that actually opened. We've become pretty roll-with-the-punches, really.

Happy Father's Day!

To all the dads, but especially mine, enjoy the day!

Um, Swimming is Hard, and Stuff

I hooked myself up with a YMCA membership for the summer. We live close to the Y, and I'd like to get back into some semblance of athletic shape now that I've dropped the weight down to a reasonable level.

Having not done so in three years or so, I went swimming yesterday. Swimming as in swimming laps. I donned my gay swimming apparel, and hopped in. Pushed off with a nice clean streamline and started swimming.

"Geez," I thought, "I've still got it. My stroke feels good!"

And pride, as we all know, cometh before the fall.

After 50 yards, I slowed down somewhat. Still pretty smooth, but definitely slow.

After 200 yards, it ceased to be pretty. I was still making forward progress, and probably not doing as poorly as I thought, but it felt choppy and awkward compared to what I remember from my in-shape swimming days.


I swam 600 or 700 yards. A mere warm-up, back in the day.

And the sad part? I'm a little sore today.

But, I'm heading back in about 15 minutes. I've discovered that the 10:30AM laps swim is pretty unpopulated. Too late for the before-work crowd, and too early for the lunch crowd. And all the old people like to use the warmer pool. My only obstacle? WATER AEROBICS. Those ladies may not look like athletic powerhouses, but they can get a good whirlpool effect going. Tuesdays and Thursdays, they will be using half of the pool. I will persevere despite their choppy-water-inducing ways.

My goal is to swim 4 days a week, and do some light weights two days a week. Whee!

Just Go See It

Go see the movie "Knocked Up." Just do it.

We got back a half hour ago and I'm still giggling at stuff.

I mean, pardon the naughty language, and the exorbitant illegal drug use, and the sexual promiscuity... ah, who am I kidding? That's what made it such a great movie. I needed a good laugh, and I got one. Despite the rampant humor, it had soul. Jewish Canadian White Boy Soul. Jewish Canadian White Boy Soul and a moderately graphic delivery room scene. We're talking crowning heads here, people.

Side note: I may or may not have a crush on Seth Rogan. Weird, huh? He's so not a muffin and yet...

Challenge

I have a challenge for you all.

And by "you all," I mean whoever actually reads this drivel during the summers.

The challenge, should you choose to accept it, involves internet research. Figure out what happened to my favorite variety of pickles. Now, after my mother's secret pickle recipe (Ma, can we make pickles this summer? I want to learn!), I had a favorite pickle. The company Milwaukee's Pickles made a variety called Polski Wyrob. I'm assuming that's Polish for "Awesome Pickle That is Better Than All Other Pickles." All the rest of the Milwaukee's Pickles have the white label with green writing... these had an orange and yellow label for some reason. They were only find-able at one grocery store in my hometown (Copp's in Stevens Point), but they've since disappeared.

First person to track down the fate of the Milwaukee's Pickles Polski Wyrob variety wins a poem, written by me about him or her. What can I say, I'm a cheap bastard.

I Haven't Bored You in a While

So, it's time for... DOG PICS! Loki's a dock diver now. He doesn't catch them in midair or anything (YET!), but he sure likes to jump.

But, since I'm too lazy to fire up Shaun's computer, transfer pics over to my own, and post them, I'm going to do this:

Link.

Now, wasn't that lazy? Most of you probably already saw these, since Shaun was on the ball and posted them, you know, when they were actually relevant. Me? I prefer to wait until they're historical. Who needs current events? Certainly not my tiny but moderately faithful reading public! We're all about the past here.

Oh, and do you like the ill-fitting clothing and sexy rubber boots? I call it Tundra Chic. It's going to be the next thing to hit Paris, Milan, and Other Pretentious Fashion Cities, I swear.

Trees, Cattle, and a Wedding Dress

I am back in the land of tall, tall trees. Not sequoia-tall, but decidedly larger than a bush. I kind of miss trees when I'm up on the tundra.

Wisconsin is nice. Alaska is nice. Plane rides from Alaska to Wisconsin are decidedly un-nice. Well, Alaska to Illinois, but we all know the only nice thing about Illinois is its proximity to Wisconsin. O'Hare is one of the nastiest airports I've ever experienced. It's dingy, windowless, and the people who work there somehow missed the memo that went around about Midwesterners being nice people. After dutifully lining up with the other cattle and spending six wakeful hours smushed into a seat inside a flying metal tube, I'd like a smile and a little customer service. Instead, I'm greeted by a bunch of jerks who leave my dog (and other passengers' dogs) sitting back on a luggage cart while they unload ALL the rest of the luggage. These poor animals had to pee, for chrissake! Last I checked, my suitcase doesn't care if it stays in back for an extra minute, but my dog was sure as hell raising a ruckus about it. Thanks to my dad for asking them in a polite but firm-and-I'm-a-big-guy manner to please bring the dogs out.

I tried on my wedding dress today. It fits (I was worried because I had lost some more weight after buying it)... mostly. My bazongas are just not big enough to fill it out, so it'll need alterations. Either that or, as my mother so delicately put it, two boxes of Kleenex.

Oh, and by the way...

SCHOOL'S OUT!

Six

Six school days to go.

Each day seems to stretch to infinity.

Six times infinity is what?

Mania!

I have been bitten by the productiveness bug. After a winter of barely dragging myself through a minimum of chores, I have become one of those annoying always-picking-up people.

Well, at home, anyway. My desk at work still looks like a monster ate an elementary classroom and puked it all up.

The only problem with my current chore-mania is... well... Loki. He's a Labrador Retriever. If the Greeks had had Labs, Sisyphus may have been tasked with keeping my kitchen floor dog-hair free, rather than pushing that silly rock around for all eternity. Our poor Roomba (OOH! DID I MENTION WE GOT A ROOMBA?! I'm not a gadget-y person, but with Loki's prodigious shedding capabilities, we thought it was worth a shot)It makes me pine away for the vacu-suck hair-cutting device showcased on Wayne's World. Just the sucking part... wouldn't it be convenient to just vacuum out all his shedded hair? "It certainly does suck," indeed!

Fear not, fair readers, I will not be vacuuming the dog this evening. My mania has limits, and vacuuming the dog lies well outside of those limits.

Maybe.

Look, Ma, I'm Fishing!

So...

It's been a while, huh?

How is it May already? I've been swamped. Well, not swamped in the all-day-every-day busy kind of swamped, but whenever I'm at school, which is my internetting location, I'm busy. Henceforth and hitherto, no new blog posts in quite a while.

Hmm, a summary. We're planning to use up all our leftover scrap paper to make homemade paper (a way fun process) next week, my team took 10th place for Trivia (our first top 10 finish), the river is starting to break up (a friend's dog fell through the ice yesterday while we were out ice fishing), 17 school days remain until we're released for the summer, I've read a few good books lately, but nothing mind-blowing, and we finished our marriage prep at the Catholic church in Bethel. Each of these incidents COULD have been a separate post, but alas, that time has passed. Now is the time for brief summaries.

I'll post some ice fishing pics when I get them (they're on Shaun's computer right now)

You CAN go Home Again

Allow me to present a photographic summary of my trip to Quinhagak. For those in the unknow, Quinhagak is the village in which I taught last year and the previous year.

Funkypunk likes planes. Funkypunk was my travel buddy. Funkypunk is not this shadowy in real life. Funkpunk is merely a victim of poor photography and slothfulness when it comes to editing aforementioned sub-par photography.

Quinhagak is pretty much snow-free at this point. Nunapitchuk is not. This picture is also crappy. It's crooked. Again, too lazy to edit.

We saw two eagles at the beach! One flew away, and this one wouldn't let me get any closer before it, too, fled. I hopped over some seriously slimy, muddy beach ice just to get THIS close.

Ate several Easter meals with various groups of people. Not as many as Funkypunk, but she's more social than I am.

What's Easter without an egg hunt for the wee ones?

Quinhagak has this zany ability to be both dusty and muddy at the same time.

Overall, it was quite the good weekend. It was great to see old friends and students, and we even managed to come back with a few frozen trout, a gift from a friend. Good times were had by all.

Sweatin' to the Moldies, Static-style

It's really, really hot in our apartment right now. Or, anyway, it was this morning. You see, the heat went off last week, so it got fixed. However, it got TOO fixed. It was just 100% on. All-go-no-stop heat. We slept in the living room with the one open-able window open.

It's also moldy in our apartment right now. But really, It's been moldy all year, so that's not such a big deal. It's probably been moldy all decade, bare minimum. It's in the ceiling. Our house, if we don't air it out, takes on delicate nasal hues of musty goodness.

Don't let the musty smell fool you, though. The humidity hovered around 20% all winter. For one stretch there, Loki would squint a little when we went to pet him because he KNEW the shock was coming.

All in all, our apartment is a very special place. That is why I'm glad to announce we won't be living there next year. With a little poking and prodding and a goodly amount of luck, we've procured a much nicer house... one that was never, ever, in its entire existence, a Bureau of Indian Affairs school. No middle-aged adults will say, "Man, I remember having school there." It's just a house.

Hey Spring... Spring Already!

Who ordered the snow?

Sorry for the low quality of the photograph, but I was too lazy to put on a coat and I was being pelted with snow the whole time I took the picture.

A former colleague was reported missing out on the tundra last night, but rumor has it he's been found. So that's good. Hopefully rumor has it right.

As for me, I'm just patiently awaiting warmer temps.

Or maybe not-so patiently.

Awkward Announcement

So, I hesitate to even post this.

Mostly because I'm embarrassed that I even had to do it. Partly because I don't like to brag. But sometimes bragging is OK.

I've lost weight. I won't say how much and I won't say how much I have left, but I realized that I'd really been on a downward (well, upward, if we're talking about poundage) slide for the past few years and I did what I needed to do to correct it. I might even throw in a few short-distance triathlons this summer, but we'll see if I have the time. Right now the temp is hovering around zero and that kind of makes me lean in the stay-inside-and-do-inside-type-things direction for the time being.

So there you have it. There's less of me now.

But I'm still just as obnoxious.

Winter? Spring? None of the Above?

It's 9:30 and still light out. Daylight Savings Time has arrived. The sun was making plenty of progress into the evening hours on its own, but we had to go and help it out, didn't we? Wouldn't want to be going to bed in darkness for an extra couple weeks, would we?

As Jody commented (and she'd know better than I, being way ups in da nort'), it's a little crazy right now. The sun is returning. It LOOKS so nice out there! Alas, Pa Winter retains his grip on the temperatures, even if he has cut us some slack in the daylight department.

I'm Learnding!

Things I learned today:

-What to do about a snowmachine with a frozen gasline
-That sometimes new spark plugs can just be "duds"
-How to change a snowmachine drive belt
-That sitting for 45 minutes along the trail from Bethel to Nunapitchuk is kinda boring.

Yesterday, I went by snowmachine into Bethel for a doctor's appointment. FunkyPunk and I rode in, and she carried another teacher as a passenger. I spent the night last night because the weather looked iffy and the sun was starting to set by the time I was ready... and I was just feeling lazy. While she wanted to stay until Saturday, I was ready to head out Friday morning. I had visions of getting back to school by 10am and putting in pretty much a full school day.

After MUCH drama this morning (involving a frozen gas line, and the subsequent cab ride to and from the store to get gas line antifreeze, followed by an issue involving a spark plug change... even though the spark plug was new and fine), I got on my way about 11am. Like a good girl, I called my destination to let them know I was on my way, and to expect me in about an hour and a half. I gave myself extra time because I wasn't sure I'd find the trail out of Bethel easily. I found it on my first try.

So... I left Bethel, 26 miles of tundra trail in front of me. I enjoyed being out on the machine by myself for the first few miles. I was just riding along, minding my own business (and taking some sweet jumps, if I can quote Napoleon Dynamite), when I started hearing a funny noise.

"Self," I thought, "You should head back to Bethel. That doesn't sound good."

"But self," I whined back, "You are like 1/3 of the way there!"

"DO IT!" I mentally shouted at myself. "TURN BACK!"

Fiiiiiiiiine. I turned back. Or I tried... the moment I started slowing down, I heard a most distressing KERCHUNK, followed by the sound of my machine, um, not going. Hmm. Tried to start machine, knowing it to be futile. Bad noises and no starting. I freaked out for about 30 seconds (usually I'm rendered useless for at least an hour and a half by any semblance of stress), then realized that freaking out on the trail was maybe not the most healthy choice I could make.

I could still see the Bethel airport tower in the distance, so I wasn't out of town by more than 5 or 10 miles (I had a GPS with me, but didn't turn it on at this point, although I did move it to my inside pocket so it would be warmer and the batteries would last longer if I turned it on). People at my destination knew when to expect me. Also in my favor was the fact that I was on a fairly busy trail, and wearing two pairs of snowpants and two winter coats (my light one under my fluffy down one), but still... I was out on the tundra and the windchill was hovering around a balmy -30F, I think.

And so, I waited. Several planes flew over, but alas, no snowmachines happened by. I waited more. I paced back and forth. I sat on my backpack, sheltered from the wind by my snowmachine. I paced. I sat. I sang a little song. Either someone would happen by, or someone in Nunapitchuk would get worried about me and come looking. I hoped for the former, but would have happily settled for the latter.

After 45 minutes of worry and boredom, a nice man happened by. Also heading to Nunapitchuk, he is uncle to several of my students. He showed me how to change the belt that had broken (apparently a common thing in the world of snowmachines), and I got on my merry way.

I returned home around 1:45 (should have been home around 12:30 at the latest) to a worried fiancee and typically obnoxious Labrador Retriever.

Maybe next time I'll spend the night rather than coming back by myself. Live and learn, I guess.