AbracaFABulous***

Now, I can usually spot concealed homosexuality in fiction and film with the best of them. In fact, I spot it where it doesn't even exist. My literary gay-dar, it seems, is on overdrive.

But I totally missed this one. I mean, jeez, I ONLY read that book how many times this summer?

I like that Dumbledore's gay. It makes sense. He certainly does have a sense of flair beyond that of your average hetero wizard.

***Shaun came up with the title for this post***

Boob

When it rains it pours, apparently... at least when it comes to first graders saying inappropriate things in cute ways and me just not understanding their intent.

So, the other day, I was just doing my thing, being a teacher. Being educational, and stuff.

Suddenly, a little darling tugged on my shirt. "My boob hurts," she said, then just kind of wanders away without further comment.

I was more than a little dumbstruck.

"Student," I called, "come back here." She kind of bounced back towards me. In a private-conversation-voice, I asked her, "What did you say hurts?"

"My boob," she replied, as if I were asking her a very, very dumb question.

"Your... huh?"

She held up a grubby first grade forefinger. "My BOOB! My THIS KIND" she huffed, pointing to a small cut on aforementioned digit.

Comprehension at last. "Oh," I said, "your BOO-BOO?"

"Yeah. That's what our baby calls them. Boo-boos."

Better than boobs, I guess.

@$$hole

First graders are precious.

Every day, my students take their own attendance. It takes the first graders a little while to find their name on the chart, trace over to the correct day, and make an "X." They're getting faster, but it's still a bit more of a process than I'd like.

They're allowed to talk quietly while waiting their turn.

Yesterday, they were busily marking Xs and quietly chattering about... who knows. First grade things. I was arranging things for the day's lesson.

Suddenly, I hear "Asshole. Asshole. Asshole."

It was directed at no one in particular, and was coming from a nice, sweet, non-swearing kind of kid. He's also a strong Yup'ik speaker, and not as fluent in English, so I thought it a possibility that he just had no idea what he was saying.

I walked over and asked, "What did you say, student?"

"Asshole," he replied. Or so I thought. He was saying it funny. It actually sounded more like "Essole."

So I asked for clarification. "Essole," he repeated.

Then he pointed at my flashlight, which I keep close by because the power goes out semi-regularly and my classroom has no windows. It had "ESL" written on the side in permanent marker.

First graders are just learning to sound out words around this time of the year. He was quite proud of himself. "Essole!"

I had to think of a way to at the same time congratulate him on his great word-detective skills and also inform him that it kind of sounded like he was swearing at someone.

Put me in, Coach

We bought a nice sled from some students last year. We can now bring back more groceries and other assorted goodies than we can carry in our backpacks when we go to Bethel.

Right now, it just needs some snow. :D

Nice Rack!

When you move into Teacher Housing in bush Alaska, you often inherit the possessions left behind by decades (or, OK, years) of previous occupants. I've scored some sweet stuff in the past few years... dishes, silverware, cookware, shampoo (thanks, Christina), board games and pillows. It tends towards the kitchen-item range of the household item spectrum, but anything is possible. You just never know, when you move into a strangely numbered Teacher Housing unit, what you're going to find. You could score big, you could get skunked.

As housing units go, our current house (which is definitely a step up from last year's apartment) was pretty castoff-free. It did, however, come equipped with a stellar clothes-drying rack:

Pictures

I know, I've been lax.

But, in my defense, I've tried. Every time I try to download more than, say, one picture to my computer at a time, it throws a royal two-year-old conniption hissyfit. It shuts down.

So I'm not very photo-friendly right now.

I've been thinking about getting a non-school-owned computer of my very own, but it seems like such a waste of money when they just let us use these machines for free.

Oh, and welcome to the blogging world, baby sister.

Pretty Muffins!

Left to right: Kelly, Mom, Me, Dad, Melissa.

This picture was taken when the hem of my dress was still clean (well, it's clean again, thanks to $135 and the wonders of dry cleaning), and the bridesmaids' dresses were still un-ripped. Also, all the women were wearing shoes at this point. This was, in true wedding tradition, not true later in the evening.

60 Degrees and Drizzling

Best. Weather. Ever.

OK, maybe not. But after nearly a month of 90-degrees-and-humid, I'll take Southwest Alaskan weather with very minimal grousing.

Sure, a few weeks from now, it will have become a bit... monotonous, but for now, we're enjoying walking around wearing sweatshirts, being able to drink hot coffee, and performing basic household tasks without ending up a sweaty mess.

Dude, Weak

Bulkfoods.com doesn't ship for free to Alaska anymore.

They can bite me.

Move Over, New York City...

Cab Capital of the U.S.? That would be Bethel, Alaska.

Side note: I promise I'll get wedding pics up, one of these days. Probably after we're back in Alaska, because our internet at home is sketchy, making picture-uploading a dicey proposition.

Just One, More to Come

102 bobby pins, two rubber bands, and 13 hair pins holding fake pearls into my hair. It took me a good 45 minutes last night to hunt them out of the pretty knot of hair that the stylist made for me. The not-so-romantic side of the wedding night.

~

We woke up early this morning (hooray for NOT getting drunk at our own wedding), and while Shaun ran a few errands, I made this pretty little picture out of the shrapnel I pulled out of my hair at the end of last night.

~

My scalp still hurts.

~

More later, including (hopefully) more pictures.

Wasn't There Something I'm Supposed to be Doing This Weekend?

Oh, right. Wedding.

Kinda snuck right up on me, but I think we're ready. Not that I haven't dragged my feet the whole time, but various "helpers" kept me in line.

"I've got 18 sticks of dynamite and I'm gonna blow up the cul de sac"

Sara's moving tip #1: It's good to get to know your new neighbors.

Specifically, it's good to get to know which of your neighbors are insane drunks.

He didn't blow anything up, as far as we could tell. The other (un-insane and no more drunk than I was) neighbors set off some doozies, but Dynamite Man was all talk, as far as we could tell.

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.

Answer: Not a Damn One

Question: How many pictures did I take of the cool stuff that went on every afternoon this week in our school?

Honestly, I meant to. We're celebrating Lunar New Year as a school, and it was good fun. We made sushi in my classroom, which was both cool and messy. Kids were doing all sorts of projects in multi-age groups, rotating around from room to room, lah-dee-dah. I could have taken some really cool pictures, but I didn't.

I had one opportunity to take pictures. Yesterday, I got a break and thought, "I'm going to take this opportunity to snap some photos of what's going down!" The fates had other plans.

Dead, my camera battery was. Foiled, my plan for photographic domination was. Talking like Yoda, I am.

So use your imagination. Imagine ten Eskimo kids rolling sushi. Imagine them eating won ton soup. Imagine them making kites and masks and Chinese yo-yos. Work up a good mental image, because you won't be getting a digital one.

The Deification of Stacy

My friend Stacy is now officially a member of my personal pantheon of deities. She is now Stacius, Crunchy Goddess of Boxed Vegetables.

She sent me vegetables. A whole box of fresh vegetables. Or rather, she had them sent from the Lower 48, as her village is as woefully lacking in fresh produce as Nunapitchuk.

I was drooling at school just looking at the box, and have eaten more vegetables in the past two days than I have in the past month. And I have only begun to munch.

I've discovered one interesting thing so far... my dog really likes radish tops. Whodathunkit?

Dead Arm

I took a nap this afternoon.

Weekend naps are one of the great pleasures in life if you ask me. I love a good nap.

I woke up from this little siesta to a most distressing situation. My right arm, the arm with which I do pretty much everything, was dead. Not just asleep... totally without feeling, and all floppy. I had had it up over my head (our house has no doors, and our walls don't go all the way up to the ceiling, and Shaun was watching TV), and apparently cut off all contact between my arm and the rest of my body.

It was kinda cool, actually. It was totally limp and floppy. No feeling whatsoever.

Eventually, the feeling came back. Holy crap did that hurt.

Testing the fun out of Them

It's that time of year, boys and girls. L.E.P testing time! We have to test every L.E.P. (limited English Proficient) student at our school to determine whether their English proficiency is truly still limited. Great fun.

I'm currently testing first graders. I am their introduction to the fantastic world of bubble-filling, standardized test-taking, and "remain quietly in your seat if you finish early."

I kind of hate myself for that. First grade should be all about reading, adding, and Play Dough. Bubble filling takes the joy out of all three.*

I tested two exuberant, can't-keep-their-mouths-shut students this afternoon. Normally right on the brink of shouting out, when put in such a limiting situation, they step over the brink into the talking-out-of-turn oblivion beyond. My jaw sets itself in a grumpty frown, my eyebrows crinkle down over my eyes, and I give them the *LOOK*.

Of course, when faced with such unencumbered joy for hearing the sound of one's own voice, the *LOOK* is seldom enough. In an hour, I was forced to move one student to a corner desk all by himself, place a pencil in the hand of another student while pointing to her next unanswered question, and just generally pull out all my "mean teacher" tricks.

By the end of the hour, I was sick of the test, the students, and most of all myself. If I'm going to be the grumpy teacher, let me at least do it in the name of teaching them something.

Thank you and good night.**

*I'm not sure how bubble-filling takes the joy out of Play Dough, but I'm certain it must. It has unmeasurable first grade joy-stealing power that we can only begin to comprehend.
**It's not night yet, but it might be when you read this.

For CP

A certain person (who never updates HER blog because... oh, right, she doesn't have one) gave me a haughty "Ahem" while checking my blog, indicating that I was not nearly diligent enough in my updates.

And she may be right.

So here's an update. I'm in Kasigluk-Akiuk for basketball. The trail was very slushy riding over. Shaun got wet because he didn't wear snowpants. I ate two hotdogs for dinner, but I feel like that's OK since I never got a lunch today. I currently have bleacher butt, both from sitting on a bleacher, and from sitting on the floor after sitting on the bleacher.

Feeling in-touch with my life now? ;-)

I Think This Post's Mostly Filler

Just in case you weren't totally completely, irrevocably convinced that I am a gigantic nerdy moron with somewhat obsessive, overly-focused tendencies, I just want to clear things up.

I am.

My latest obsession? The musical episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Once More with Feeling."

The episode is not new to me. It was actually my introduction to the escapist world of Buffy. CP (currently my coworker and, back in the day, my roommate, and always the Goddess of All Things Pop Culture) introduced me to the show through the musical episode two years ago. It has recently come back into my life and I am grateful. Aforementioned CP has loaned me seasons 5-7 on DVD. Since I rarely watch TV on TV (or, rather, I can't be troubled to remember what day of the week things are on), TV on DVD comes in handy when my brain needs to be liquidated of thought for 45 minutes or so and an episode of Iron Chef: America just won't cut the mustard.

I have listened to the soundtrack twice tonight. I think Shaun is going to start throwing things soon should this blip turn into a long-term trend.

Someday I will have a "current favorite" that does not up my dork quotient.

Who am I kidding? No, I won't. Love me, love the fact that I will never, ever, in a million years be cool.

As Promised... NYE pics!

Therese clearly loves her country. ;)

Oh, so pretty... I'm the non-pretty one on the right. :D

Rides Like a Dream

The descent into Anchorage is always an experience. I don't know if it's the mountains-on-three-sides-water-on-the-other factor or what, but I don't think I've ever had a smooth ride into the Anchorage Bowl. Today was no exception. A nice finale to an otherwise less-than-emotionally-scarring flight.

Well, not emotionally scarring for everyone else. I am usually filled with such guilt at putting Loki on the plane that I have at least one nervous breakdown. Again, today (or yesterday, as it were) was no exception.

But getting beyond that, the ride was pretty pleasant. Shaun and I had a row to ourselves (we started out with a passenger on the aisle, but he hopped across aforementioned aisle because there was only one person there. So we had... An empty seat! Oh, joy of joys! Few things can bring more elation to the heart of a coach traveler than an empty seat. We stretched out, and slept probably two hours out of the six available to us... probably a new record for da bot' of us. We're not adept at plane-sleeping. A friend was on the flight, and she had some kind of tranqs... I'm not a use-drugs-to-cure-all kind of person, but she did look mighty relaxed. By relaxed I mean unconscious. It looked, to quote one of the great minds of American cartoon culture, freakin' sweet.

So that's that. I sit at Ted "The Internet is a Series of Tubes" Stevens Anchorage International Airport. It's 1am Alaska time, 4am Wisconsin-and-therefore-my-internal-clock time. My two hours of sleep was clearly excessive; I'm not sleepy at all.

OH! One more tiny little detail... we figured out where we're going to be getting hitched. We found a Catholic church that will marry us. We shall be tying the knot at St. Bart's in Mill Creek, WI. Should be a hoot. :D

Woah

Vacation winds to a close. Friday we head north, north, and more north (also west). Back to Alaska, back to the village, back to work. My wallet is lighter and my suitcases are heavier. Or they would be, were they packed, which they, of course, are not.

Am I leaving real life and going back up to fantasyland, or is it the other way around? Distinctions get a little fuzzy at 1am.

2007

"Here's to the New Year. May she be a damn sight better than the old one..."

I guess 2006 wasn't that bad. Can't complain, really. But there's something very hopeful about ringing in the new year. It hasn't yet been messed up by death, destruction, or other sundry calamity. There's always the possibility that this year will be the year in which humanity finally pulls its shit together. At 12am on 1/1, we haven't had the chance to mess things TOO badly. Hopefully this won't be the year we nuke ourselves into oblivion.

I'm not being morbid or fatalistic, honestly. I like the freshness of the new year. Infinite possibilities, good and bad.

I'll post party pics soon, I promise. There are some goodies.

The "I'M BACK!" Post, and Year in Review

I arrived safely at O'Hare, four hours behind schedule do to "technical difficulties" (read: water in electronic instrumentation prevents any take-off not deliberately designed to cause death and destruction). The trip was its usual steaming pile of joy, but I'll not speak of that.

We're nearing the end of 2006. And a fine year she was. Allow me a brief review. I'll give you the first sentence I published each month, just because my body has no clue what time it is, and I'm not feeling the least bit sleepy...

January: "And the stockings were hung by the chimney with care..."
Commentary: Dang, this time last year, I was in Hawaii.

February: "The following is plucked from a conversation I had with a class of first grade boys."
Commentary: First graders are cute.

March: "It appears that we're having issues with our district e-mail, and we aren't receiving/sending e-mails out-of-district."
Commentary: Sweet Jesus I live a boring, pathetic life. Is this the drivel I publish? Do you all hate me?

April: "Daylight Savings Time is a load of crap."
Commentary: I stand by this statement.

May: "Loki, meet everyone."
Commentary: That nutty dog has grown up so much since then!

June: "We took Loki (el Dog) swimming yesterday."
Commentary: I find my dog far too interesting, it would seem.

July: "I love our dog."
Commentary: I need a life.

August: "We're in Nunapitchuk."
Commentary: Indeed we were. For quite a while.

September: "Isn't it strange how you can know exactly what your faults/failings are and be completely powerless to fix them?"
Commentary: Yes, isn't it?

October: "PFD Time, that is."
Commentary: That is not a sentence, you grammatically-challenged, ape-brained waste of human protoplasm.

November: "It's getting cold."
Commentary: Wow, really? In ALASKA? I'm glad that I exist to document these unknown factoids and info-nuggets, because otherwise, how would the world know that it gets cold in Alaska in November?

December: "Yup, I'm still here."
Commentary: Or do I just think I'm still here? Is all of existence just an illusion?

SUSHI BABY

Yup, I'm pregnant with a big ol' sushi baby.

I made it out of the village along with a bunch of friends and coworkers. We checked into the hotel and made a new friend. She teaches in a nearby village that just happens to be in a different district. The Y-K Delta is cool like that... you can meet someone and just become their friend just because they happen to be there. Kinda like when you went on vacation as a child, and would just make friends with whatever kids your age happened to be hanging around the pool. Oh, you didn't do that? It was just my sisters and me? OK.

ANYHOO... We dragged newfound friend went to the VIP restaurant, a new feature in the town of Bethel. Bethel has been blessed and cursed with a plethora of restaurants. Blessed because there are a lot of them. Cursed because they all serve one of two menus, and neither are phenomenal. There's the Americanized Asian menu (they also serve burgers and fries), and the Americanized Greek/Italian menu. They're both adequate if you're in from the village for the weekend and haven't eaten a meal cooked by someone else in months, but don't really do anything for me in the culinary sense.

But now, oh now... there is the VIP restaurant. They serve REAL Korean and Japanese food, including SUSHI.

I ate sushi tonight.

I ate a lot of sushi.

My tummy rounded out to house my yummy little sushi baby.

Variables and a Rant

Variables. Should they all fall into place, I will be leaving Nunapitchuk tomorrow and arriving in Central Wisconsin on Saturday. One overnight at a hotel in Bethel, a three-segmented flight to Chicago, and a wonderful car ride will put me at my parents' house ust in time for Christmas Eve-Eve.

If the weather cooperates, and the airlines cooperate, and O'Hare cooperates (O'Hare is in its own class, as far as I'm concerned, because it is big and scary and in Chicago, which automatically ups its sketchiness quotient), I might just make it without bursting into tears. Then again, I might not. At least this flight isn't going through LAX, like my Hawaii flight did last year. That place is specifically designed to suck all the hopeful human feelings out of you and turn you into a dead-eyed, beaten down, bovine zombie. Yes, a cow of the living dead. A cow of the living dead who is afraid to ask the "customer service" representatives a question because they are scarier than your average homeless crazy dude.

Side note: Can you tell I've had a bad experience at Los Angeles International Airport? This is a rant almost exactly one year in the making. This negativity has been festering for quite a while... and it goes beyond LAX.

The only nice stranger I met at LAX was a cop. A LOS ANGELES POLICE OFFICER. These guys are not known for their sunshiny personalities, and he was the friendly, helpful one of all the people I met.

I'm just too small-town Midwestern, I think. I expect to be treated nicely unless I give cause for anything else. Human "default mode" should be set on nice, with bitch and asshole only coming out when called for. Don't give me attitude if it's not called for. If I'm being friendly and polite, they why the F$*k can't everyone else return the favor?!

*breathes into paper bag*

OK, so, yeah. Wish me good luck tomorrow, Friday, and Saturday.

Still Truckin' (Poste Moste Randome)

Yup, I'm still here.

I realize, I did a pretty good non-existence imitation there for a while, but rest assured, it was all an act.

Shaun and Loki left today for Wisconsin. All told, the trip will take them about 24 hours. I miss my boys, but I know that once the hellacious trip is completed, they'll both be having a fan-freaking-tastic time back in the land of Cheese and Beer.

Me? I'm just trying to get through the last week-and-a-half of school without blowing a mental gasket. It's more difficult than it sounds. Today I took one class out to take pictures to send to our new pen pals. Sounds easy, but it's not. The boys were... well... the only way to describe it is to say "bat-shit crazy," and that's not a term I just throw around carelessly. But we got some fun pictures of "important" village locations (I'll post a few later) and returned home frostbite-free, and with me only having had to shout at the top of my lungs three times.

At this point, my brain has kind of shut down. It's a good thing that I got some good routines established with my classes, because I'm pretty much running on auto-pilot at this point.

Pulled Back from the Brink

Yes, my computer has been brought back to life. I even got an OS upgrade in the process... and all my files still exist.

Huzzah!

I say huzzah way too much lately.

Snowromp Video!

Kudos to that fiancee of mine for taking the video... I was obviously too busy having fun.

Frolic!

Ah, chasing snowballs. So fun. He'd do this all day if we let him.

What I Bin' Doin'

Whole lotta nothing.

We ate Thanksgiving dinner with a bunch of coworkers on Thursday. It was fun... I like having a non-school reason to hang out with people. We hardly talked shop at all.

Friday happened, Saturday happened, both without any events meriting mention. Then... Sunday. I awoke at 9 with hopes of starting a load of laundry, but alas, the machine was taken. Not one to be dragged down, I got over that extreme let-down and started my day. I looked out the window, and lo and behold, it was a-snowing. Lots.

Noon... still snowing.

Three o'clock... still snowing. Received instant messages and e-mails from coworkers stranded in Bethel. All planes cancelled.

Five o'clock... yup, more white $#!+. Loki loves it. He romped several times today. Pics to follow, and maybe a video if it gets uploaded somewhere. He likes to chase snowballs. I also romped, although I find snowball-chasing slightly less amusing.

It's now ten minutes to ten o'clock in the evening, and the snow is still falling with gusto. The boardwalks have vanished.

Pictures tomorrow!

But it's a Dry Heat

Something is wrong with our heat.

It's not broken, in the strictest sense of the word. Pipes haven't frozen, we aren't shivering, huddled under blankets and burning furniture for warmth.

Quite the opposite.

It seems our heat has lost its "off" mode. It's all go, all the time. We opened our one functioning window and put a fan in it, and managed to COOL our home down to a balmy 82. Then we foolishly shut aforementioned window when we went to bed. Fools, damn fools.

I awoke at 3am in a sweaty panic. I was can't-breathe-must-have-air hot. I ran into the living room, opened the window, and stuck my head all the way out. I then moved over to the thermostat to check out the thermo-stats. It was maxed out at 88 degrees.

I slept the rest of the night on the couch in front of the window.

Noooooooooooooooooo...

My hard drive on my trusty iBook G4 (OK, it's not mine, but the school district's... but it's been with me for the past two and a half years!) has been pronounced legally dead.

All my pics... gone.

All my music... gone.

All my old lesson plans... gone.

*Sigh* I was in the process of backing it up so it could be reimaged, but I never quite finished the job.

Alas, I carry on. Why do I feel naked without it?

What is This "Teaching" You Speak Of?

It's Thursday, and we're finally having school. Freeze-up combined with the death of someone in the village kept our attendant population under 60% on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. This meant that I came to school every morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (or at least washed, which is a step in the right direction, I suppose), only to leave an hour and a half later when we confirmed that we had too few students to hold a legal day. Basically, an hour and a half of work that does not count as work. We have to make it up. Grr.

I had a lot of week-long lesson plans set, so I'm just going to scratch them and use them next week. I can't imagine the kids will be too focused today or tomorrow anyway.

HEY YOU

Did you vote?

If not, why not?

If your answer to "why not" is "It is not voting day where I live," then I accept your reasoning.

If it is, indeed, voting day where you live, and you did, indeed, answer "no" to my intial question, well, that was your decision I guess.

But I voted. And I got a sticker. Then I got another because the nice voting worker said I could. I like stickers. In that way, I am much like a kindergartner. With voting rights.

Silly River

That silly river is freezing up. A bunch of students live on the other side of aforementioned freezing river, and didn't come to school today because their boats have been pulled from the water.

District sez we must have 60% of our students present in order to call it a school day.

As of 9:40 today, we were 28 students short... so no school.

School tomorrow? Stay tuned, folks.

Quick News Flash

It's getting cold. When it gets cold, liquid water turns into a solid. We call this "ice." Rivers are made of water.

So basically, the river is freezing. More later (hopefully "more" will include pictures).

Ten Random Thoughts.

1. Loki (with Bailey's help, but let's be honest, Loki was the primary perp in this crime) nearly gave me a black eye.

2. The first "sticking" snow should be classified as a child drug. They're like a bunch of crack fiends.

3. Hallween is coming. I'm looking for good hiding places from the hordes of candy-seeking small people.

4. Nights are getting loooooooooong. Days are getting shooooooooooooort.

5. I haven't been TRULY sick yet this school year.

6. Now I will probably be sick next week.

7. Booked my flight home for the holidays! Prepare, Lower 48, for my glorious coming! December 23rd, your part of the continent will be bathed in the brilliance that is me. Offer me beer.

8. How is it 2006? I'm getting old.

9. How come kids don't get a nap anymore? In kindergarten and even first grade, we bought carpet squares at Shopko and brought them to school for nap time. What happened to this?

10. I have been eating too much cheese lately.

He's an Intellectual

Doesn't he look like he's got all the answers, and that the digusting string of drool is 100% intentional?
Thanks to Shaun for doing the captioning.

Throwback to Summer

Summer, up at The Shack, wearing shorts... seems to be a world or five away sometimes...
Is it just me or does my chin look evil and pointy?

Mirror, Mirror, On the Water...

Dangit, my camera lens is smudged!

What's in the Box?

And will it fall in the river?

Dockalicious Sunsettage

EL DOG

He's not sad, I swear... he was just napping.

Schnow!

It snowed yesterday. Huzzah!

I took Loki for a walk last night. Actually, the boardwalks were covered with about 1/8 inch of frost and ice, so let me rephrase that: Loki took me for a slide last night.

You see, it seems that Loki has decided he is part sled dog. He seemed to enjoy pulling me around the village, only needing me to provide the occasional push to keep us going. He only pulled me off the boardwalk onto the smooshy, wet, cold tundra once, and in his defense, he DID have to potty, so I put that in the win column.

Now this morning, when he decided he had to potty at 6:30, and he made me slip and fall on my butt, I was less generous with my ratings.

For Real, CONSISTENT (or more so, anyway) Updates

See Shaun's Alaska Blog.

He's just better about this "updating" stuff than I am. My days are all kind of the same. Wake up tired, work eight (plus) hours, go home, eat, watch some TV or do some reading, and hit the sack too late for my own good. I have settled into a routine up here... life just doesn't feel blogworthy on a day-to-day basis.

Now if I could blog about problem students and their individual effects on my mental health... and name names... I could have several new posts every day.

That Time of Year

PFD Time, that is.

And I finally qualify this year. Huzzah!

Wow, a Week, Huh?

I've been lax. It's been quite the week: one that started out with me cleaning blood off my classroom's carpeted floor, and ended (or is ending), with me somehow getting up an hour early and not realizing I was overly punctual until I was already at school.

I think I will drop into a coma at 4pm today and not come out until 8am Monday morning. Is that OK?

Democracy at its Most Arbitrary and Random

A coin toss? Fer real?
Alaska politics are weird.

Kick@$$

Football Chick

Rock on with your bad self. I like the pink socks touch... keeping her femininity while playing with the boys.

Slackereous Maximus

Yup, that's me. Sorry 'bout that.

I've had a lot of wouldn't-that-make-a-great-picture moments, but have never remembered to take my camera with me anywhere.

Yesterday morning, for example. I had to ride to Akiuk in the morning for a training, and it was gorgeous... soft morning sunlight, ducks taking flight from the water in front of us, glassy water, and NO CAMERA.

It's a pretty picture in my brain. Too bad I can't draw. :-D

Yeah, What he Said

That Funny Thing That Happened Last Friday

Shaun's just got more patience than me when it comes to typing long sagas involving darkness, smoking motors, and navigational uncertainty.

Gossip

Apparently a meteor hit near Bethel, and everyone there heard/felt a massive "boom." Or that's the gossip that's making its way around. Others are saying the police were exploding things at the dump.

Who wants to bet on the veracity of these claims?

More later.

EDIT: Got the following in an e-mail. It is the text of a KYUK radio story:

Some residents near Bethel heard what sounded like an explosion early this morning. Many thought it was thunder or a man-made sonic boom. . .As Angela Denning-Barnes from KYUK in Bethel reports, it actually fell from the sky. . .
ADB/SMI midday Monday, September 11, 2006


Bethel police dispatcher, Melanie Barniskis was working the night shift and had stepped out to the deck for a short break at about 5 a.m.. . .The sky was clear and the moon was out, when something caught her eye. . .
CUT 1: 33 secs. “When I looked at it, I saw a huge, white, glowing ball of light, traveling extremely fast, traveling from West to East. And a long, golden, sparkling tail, which covered nearly three-quarters of the sky behind it. As it passed overhead, it began to fall. As it got almost level with my line of vision, the white glowing head seemed to disintegrate, and there was a huge shower of what looked to be sparks or flare-outs, and after that I couldn’t see anymore.”

Barniskis presumed it was a meteor that had broken up in mid-air. She heard a hissing noise when it went overhead, but she didn’t hear a sonic boom like some other people. Back inside the police station, she received several reports from people who had heard something loud, and others who actually felt tremors in Bethel.

Meanwhile, fifteen miles Northeast of Bethel, tribal police officer, Theodore Charles was also taking down reports of a loud explosion that woke people up and shook their houses in the village. . . .A few people reported seeing a red flaring thing that exploded. . .
CUT 2: 15 secs. “the impact was like a loud explosion. And it pretty much, ah, like I said it shook up the West side of town; shook a lot of houses down here.”

Charles says Kwethluk residents didn’t know what had made the ruckus, but the fact that it was the 5 year anniversary of terrorist activity did not escape them . . .
CUT 3: 6 secs. “Well, apparently today is 9-11, and they thought that something else was going on.”

Hans Nielson with the Geophysical Institute of the University of Alaska Fairbanks says meteors are very localized and usually can’t be seen more than 200 miles away. He says the description of this incident, and the fact that it was seen and heard, makes it possible that it was NOT a meteor, but rather a larger piece of space debris from a satellite, spacecraft, or rocket.

None the less, it was a lifetime dream come true for Barniskis. . . .
CUT 4: “I’ve been a star gazer most of my life, and I’ve gone out to look for meteor showers down in the Lower 48, and I’ve never seen anything like this.”

In Bethel, I’m Angela Denning-Barnes

Pretty as a Picture

Nice firey sunset, huh?

We were at school late one evening (a week ago last Wednesday, to be precise) for staff volleyball, and exited the building to the purdiest sunset!

Grabbed my camera and took a shot. The buildings in the foreground are a little too dark, methinks, but Shaun is the PhotoShop king, and I really don't like messing with stuff... mostly out of sheer laziness.

So yeah. View from school porch.

Trying to Try

Isn't it strange how you can know exactly what your faults/failings are and be completely powerless to fix them?

That's what makes them faults, I guess.

I have the best of intentions when it comes to self-improvement, both professional and personal, but old habits die hard. My desk will just always be a mess, and I will just always lose my keys in a painfully obvious place and have to have them pointed out to me by a less-bat$#!+ crazy acquaintance. I will always have a bit of a temper (thanks, Dad) and cry at things that don't require crying (thanks, Mom), and I will always prefer a quiet classroom to a chaotic one.

I can try to manage these less-than-desirable traits, but deep down, I know that's me. I guess it's even better to know those things about myself and not just throw in the towel... but some days I do just that. I just let the desk-mess drive me crazy, but don't pick it up. I have little mini-temper tantrums. You get the idea.

But mostly I try. Or I try to try, which is really better than nothing.

Meet my Pet Peeve, Self-Congratulation

Warning: Self-righteous rant ahead. Proceed with caution and be not taketh-ing me seriously. Remember that this is all obnoxious blowharding from the least perfect person on Earth. On with the rant, then...

I'm sure I'm guilty of it myself.

But you wanna know what I hate?

Braggers. People who just can't stop talking about how great they are, how many totally killer things they did, how people are just so lucky to have them around.

I'm not talking about the honesty of being able to express satisfaction of a job well done. I'm not talking about pride in one's accomplishments. I'm not talking about having a strong sense of self-efficacy. All these things are good... nay, not good... wonderful.

I'm talking about relentless, attention-seeking, boastful bragging.

I had an interaction recently with a person I haven't talked to in a good long while. A coon's age, if you will. I thought we could just chat (online, of course, long distance charges being what they are and me being the cheap bastard I am), catch up a bit, and call it a day. One of those "hey long time no see how ya been whatcha been up to ok been good talking to you see you around" conversations. I only had five minutes, so it should have been.

Instead, I was subjected to what can only be described as an unremitting barrage of self-aggrandizing own-horn-tooting. Long story long... it annoyed me.

And generally annoys me.

Thank you for reading my whiney rant. You may now continue with your regularly scheduled non-cranky life.

Lady, You Are Officially Creepy

Harris: Non-Christian electees will "legislate sin"

Church-State separation a lie, huh? FanTAStic. Where do I line up for my government-issued burqa? Religiously-based government has worked SO WELL in other parts of the modern world, eh?

My favorite part is where she tries to take it back. Sorry, you say it, you own it.

Oh Sweet Hay-zoos

Amazon.com beckons. Three weeks back in the bush, and I'm already clicking my way from TV show to movie to book.

I like new books. They are shiny and full of information and their pages aren't all dog-eared.

I like new movies and TV shows on DVD. They hold the promise of much mindless entertainment.

And yet... I like my checking account fat as a christmas goose.

Decisions, decisions.

Answer: Not Even Two Full Weeks

Question: How long does it take me to catch my first student-borne sickness?

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Monday, I'm going to start my Nazi-esque hand sanitizer requirement. Sure, it takes up 30 seconds of instructional time, and since I only have a half hour with each group, that's 1/60th of my total time with them, but dammit, I'm NOT spending another year constantly in some stage (coming-down-with-an-illness, ill, or recovering-from-an-illness... and they can overlap!) of disease.

Please spare me the hand-sanitizers-are-bad-because-they-increase-germ-resistance argument. I know that. I am well aware of it. I agree with it, even. But when you teach 75 separate germ factories per day, have no sink in your classroom, and don't have the time or patience to send them to the bathroom to wash their hands, hand sanitizer is the only option.

It's a good thing kids are cute and endearing, otherwise I wouldn't get within ten feet of them. I would look a bit foolish, not to mention be ridiculously ineffective, teaching from inside a bubble-boy bubble.

Why my Classroom is Uncool

1. No windows
2. No windows

Why my Classroom is Cool

1. My own printer
2. My own photocopier

Ow

Loki punched me in the eye today.

Well, he didn't punch me, he chucked a bone at me.

You see, our darling pooch will play fetch with himself. He'll throw something up in the air, then go after it. It's kind of convenient because he'll just entertain himself.

This morning I was laying on the couch after our walk, 50% napping, 50% planning out my day, 100% enjoying my Sunday. Loki was next to me on the floor, chewing calmly on his bone. All the sudden, BAM, pain in eye. He had merrily tossed his bone into the air above him, not realizing in his doggy retardedness that "the air above him" was also "where Sara is currently reclining."

I did what any self-respecting, grown-up, 20-something woman would do... I immediately burst into tears. It hurt, dammit.

But no harm done. I don't appear to have a big prize-fighter shiner. I can still see. Thankfully, I was half-sleeping, and therefore had my eyes closed.

Wait a Minute

Who are these pint sized people, and why are they in my building?

Could it be the first day of school already?

I like my new school and job (well, the job's a lot like my job last year), but miss my old school and old job.

And school begins... NOW.

At some point I'll get around to a real post, I promise.

Okay, Okay

I've not been very good at updating lately.

I've been busy, and the internet at home isn't the most reliable.

Suffice it to say we're settling in at home and I'm gearing up at school. The summer flew by so quickly... I feel really unprepared for the school year... but it'll be fine, fine, just fine.

We're Here

We're in Nunapitchuk. We've had very little sleep.

More later.

Cooling off

Dog, My Dad, and Me, cooling off on a ridiculously hot day.

No, Floyd, No

TdF Winner Accused of Doping

Not that cycling isn't one of the most obnoxiously doped-up sports around... but come one Floyd, you had us all thinking that cycling had a future in America, post-Lance.

WOOHOO! YEAH! TAKE THAT!

Wisconsin is officially the most average state in the Union.

TAKE THAT, USA... WE ARE MORE AVERAGE THAN EVERYONE ELSE!

The Most "Representative" State in the Union: Wisconsin

I guess it makes sense, if you think about it. Rural communities, a big-ish city, a bunch of smaller cities... A fairly education population, but not overly so, elections are usually pretty hotly contested because of the fairly diverse political views you'll find, etc, etc, etc...

If you're gonna be good at something, why not be good at being regular?

Good Luck, Boys (and Girls)

This is kind of a big deal in the village...

Rural Guardsmen Head Off to War

For Visually-Oriented Foreign Policy Buffs...

Handy Dandy Middle East Friend/Foe Chart.

I just like visual representations of things.

iHassle

My iPod is broken.

It was sketchy from the start. Occasionally, it's screen would freeze and I would have to let the batteries run out, then power it up again.

But the little bastard's all the way broken now. Tried the oh-so-unhelpful help on the iPod support website, but no go. So while I wanted to take the dog for a walk with some background music, I have instead sat here trying to "reset, restart, rewhatever" this chunk of metal and plastic.

F--- technology. I'm gonna become a Luddite.

Wait, I didn't mean that. Hear me, gods of technology? I was only kidding. Come on, I was frustrated, I was angry... I didn't mean it, really.

Down-Winding

Summer is winding down. I know it doesn't FEEL like summer is winding down, but it is.

For me, at least.

Soon, I'll be back to work. Well, new work. Or... the same work, in a different school, in the same district, with some of the same coworkers I worked with my first year of teaching.

I'm gonna miss summer... but when it comes right down to it, I don't LIKE sitting around, despite the fact that I seem to be quite gifted in around-sitting. I get stuck. Then I get lethargic and depressed, which makes me lazy. Then I get more stuck. It's a vicious cycle, really.

These next few weeks should be sufficiently harried and action-packed, so hopefully I'll be well broken out of my slump by the time I head back to Alaska.

Missing:

My summer.

$10,000 reward for information leading to its return.

Where is the time going?

Oy Vey

Returned from five days at the Winnipeg Folk Festival.

Tired. Much fun was had... much sleep was not. May or may not be several shades darker than I was when I left. Wallet is also considerably lighter.

More later. Must sleep.

Shameless Product Review

The Gentle Leader

I love our dog. I really do. But up until a week ago, I did not love walking him. His general exuberance for life and desire to get to ANYWHERE as quickly as possible (combined with that pesky doggie desire to pull things) made walking 68 (he's grown some in the last month) pounds of canine muscle a little difficult.

I had blisters.

Enter Mr. Gentle Leader. Exit Loki's ability to pull.

Humane, easy-to-use (once you get it on them... it's kinda tricky the first few times), and effective.

My only beef with it (if you can even call it that) is that Loki REFUSES to have anything to do with it when he's not actively walking. It has to be the last step in our "getting ready to go for a walk" routine, or else he'll scrape his nose off trying to remove it. But that's a minor issue really... we've gone from short ten-minute walks that tested my upper arm strength, patience, and ability to keep him from jumping up on random people to 45-minute (more when it's not too hot for the dawg, although he's now mastered the art of drinking from a water bottle) enjoyable strolls around the neighborhood.

Now if only they made a "Gentle Leave that F-ing Cat Alone."

I Gave In

OK, fine, whiners, I'm on MySpace.

MySpace

Don't expect great things.

Well Then

I'm a slacker. Sorry for the long time no post.

I spent four and a half days in the wonderful Twin Cities. Drank some beer, crashed on some couches, ate some delicious food, saw some friends... all in all, a successful trip. Some highlights:

1. Saw a woman reading the newspaper while driving on Interstate 94 east of St Paul. Hooray for safety. She WAS reading The Onion, which means she at least has good taste in fake news, but for the love of Zeus, don't go jeopardizing MY life for your satirical periodicals.

2. Got to hear the U.S. Secretary of Education speak. She said the phrase "beach trash." She also had funny square glasses. I realize that it's not like a requirement for the job, but it weirds me out that she was never a teacher. I guess she was a substitute teacher for a while.

3. Found a wedding dress. Whee!

4. (Re)Discovered that radio sucks. The three-plus hour drive home, after I lost the NPR news station out of the Twin Cities, was just a constant one person scan-button-hitting party. I don't think I stuck with a single station for longer than two songs, and I even resorted to listening to country. COUNTRY, for the love of Thor.

5. Visited the "Sears Building," as it is locally known. No, not THAT Sears building... wrong city. Basically, it's a big ol' building on Lake Street at Chicago Ave that has been empty for YEARS. Apparently, someone has finally gotten his/her shit together and done something with it. Apartments on the upper levels and a cool market on the ground floor. Check it out.

6. (Re)Discovered my dislike for driving. Especially in downtown St Paul. Minneapolis may be the bigger, scarier of the Twins, but the blocks are... you know... square and stuff, so navigating is a little more intuitive. St Paul is ridiculous. Seriously. Someone was smoking a little too much of the good stuff when they planned that mess. Or maybe that's the problem... there was no plan.

7. Did I mention I found a wedding dress?

Obnoxious Dog Parent Post

63 pounds of Loki love.

Friendly Reminder

I don't post much in summer.

Lots goes on that could potentially be blog-worthy, but really, who wants to sit in front of a computer all summer?

So, quick update.

1. Attended a very fun concert/festival last weekend. Buncha dirty hippies, it was. :-D

2. Experienced the gut (sort of) wrenching pain of a bladder infection for the first time.

3. Am starting (along with Shaun) dog obedience classes with Loki.

4. Summer is flying by waaaaaaaaaaaaay to quickly, so I therefore am going to get off the computer and stop wasting my time.

Go Genetics Go

We took Loki (el Dog) swimming yesterday.

Holy crap, when they say that Labs are genetically predisposed to retrieving things in the water, they're not kidding. I thought it would be a "with a little training, they learn quite well how to fetch things in the water" thing. Nope. There was no training involved. His introduction to the water involved him accidentally stepping off the end of the dock into the water (the water's high, so it was about three inches below the end of the dock), panicking for a half a second, then swimming merrily around in a circle while we tried to figure out how to get him out of the water, as all exits were blocked by boats.

Then we went to a more accessible place. He deeply appreciated the boat ride... dog after my own heart. We went to a steep sloping "beach" too inconvenient for most swimmers. The amount of fun that dog had was obscene and is probably illegal in Mississippi. He couldn't stop himself. He would be laying there in the dirt, looking ready to drop dead where he lay of exhaustion, but if we picked up his catch toy (to wash the half-inch-deep layer of dirt off of it), he'd jump to attention and hop in circles, ready for another round.

So yes. Obnoxious dog-parent post. My apologies.