Dreams are more fun

Firstly, thank you Karin for the encouragement and reminder that life won't just drop things in my lap on my schedule. I don't always remember these things, and I've decided to show my thanks by describing a dream I had the other day about Blue on Black. It gave me a good chuckle when I woke up:

In my dream, I was visiting Blue on Black around this year's Iditarod race. I discovered soon after arriving that the kennel had received a sizable amount of funding, far outstripping their needs (for those outside the field, this would never happen). Karin, you had at least three handlers, and about seven young people boarding there, paying rent. It was like a youth hostel. Barley loved it. Also, there were tiny puppies running around everywhere. I barely saw Karin or Varan, because all their time was spent running various teams. Mind you, not all the teams were dogs. You had received so much random funding, Karin, that you decided to have some fun by adopting a passel of various large carnivorous cats- lions, cheetahs, snow tigers, a few others- and teaching them to run through the snow in harness.h

Maybe something to think about for next year? When I become a rich and semi-famous author, I'll see about arranging that kind of funding...

The Small and the Scrappy

Yesterday morning I was gazing out the window, and I noticed that one of our resident chipmunk colony was bouncing around among the dead ferns and underbrush. It took me a moment to realize what he was up to- see, we've got all kinds of migrating flocks stopping by to feed on the bushes around the vernal stream. The chipmunk was taking extreme exception to the invaders. I watched him chase away one little brown bird after another, growing increasingly frustrated as they continued to settle down again as soon as another quarry distracted him. He even attacked a cardinal. I have to admit, I was impressed.

I've been reading a book of stories written by a guy who leads safaris in Botswana. Thanks to this guy, I'm now versed in what to do if charged by a cape buffalo, as opposed to a lion. Oh yes, very different defense strategies. And he's introduced a new animal to me, something which lions and rhinos and even hippos fear-- the elephant? No. Hyena? No.... Honey Badger.
Look it up. The honey badger is apparently one of africa's most dangerous animals, partly because when it's cornered, it goes straight for the genitals with its giant, diggy-claws. Hearing this, people tend to think only of the inherent pain and humiliation, but there's also a major artery in the groin, so you'd die pretty quickly. This critter is my new hero and will definitely turn up in my books.

So this is my note of appreciation for small beings that nevertheless make their opinions known and respected- a gift I wish I had. Then again, my size is roughly average. Ah well, I work on being scrappy. I do all right in work situations, but I'm sorry to say I often crumble under social attacks. Working on it. At least the work thing is more important.

In other news, I'm still working on finding a suitable program- these things always seem to go at a snail's pace, until suddenly they kick into overdrive. Meanwhile, I'm making sure to get to the gym. There hasn't been much work this week, perhaps due to the holiday. Ironically, however, I do have work today. Although I'm a little sad not to be joining a family friend for Thanksgiving, I've never been that big on Thanksgiving, and my appetite is kinda dim these days (decongestants- it's an unpleasant side effect that seems to compound itself over time).

A few gym-related comments: first, I very nearly pushed a woman off the machine next to me the other day- heavy perfume to the point where I could taste it on my tongue! Y'don't go to the gym to smell nice, and you certainly don't go to smell like some kind of mutant chemistry experiment! I have a disdain for the women who show up in make-up, push-up bras, and heavy earrings as well, but the perfume-wearers are actually getting in the way of other people's work-outs.
On a more cheerful note, I've discovered that despite occasionally having to wait for lifting machines, I like going to the gym right after typical work hours, when it's most crowded. Better people-watching. People working out are hilarious.

So... does anyone actually read this thing? If so, someone should call me, because my tower's feeling bit isolated lately... Don't make me send a honey badger after you!

No, Amy, right now I'm the Bobblehead

Well, in some ways I'm pulling myself together. Yesterday I had my hair very carefully chopped in half, so that it sits right at my shoulders. Let's hear it for less weight on the brain-case! Continuing in the bodily vein, I've been working out 4-5 times a week, and it's definitely having an effect. I keep trying to get my mom to smack my butt and tell me that it's getting firmer, but for some reason she doesn't want to... maybe it's a generational thing.

I continue to work on flying south for the winter. I think it's funny that everyone's reaction when they hear the word Africa has been either "Why???" or "But there are so many parasites down there!" Yes, yes there are many parasites, and I plan to be one of them!

So here's a bit of insight into the little annoyances and set-backs of a search for volunteer work: In the past few weeks, I've sent two application requests to a research volunteer position, and I've heard diddly-squat. What's more, the website doesn't appear to supply any numbers where I can call and harass them. At that time, this was the only affordable place I had found, and they appear to be incompetent. So I moved on. I paid five dollars to a low-cost volunteering database, and I've been perusing the possibilities. At first glance, there are a lot of them, but when you look closer, there are ways in which they rule themselves out. The price is always a big factor, and you need to read between the lines to figure out whether they actually let volunteers do anything interesting.

And so the quest goes on. Wish me firm muscles and viable africa options.

Concerning Featherduster Bugs

First, a disclaimer: This isn't an criticism my parents. If it was, why would I write it in a blog I know they read? So, to my parents, please don't take this as a personal attack.

I don't enjoy being home. It just isn't my venue. I know most people get all dewy-eyed about childhood memories, and sigh about how great it would be to be a kid again- not me. Go back to letting someone else make all my decisions? No, thanks just the same.

I spent most of my childhood in other worlds, which is to say, deep inside my head. Well, mine and my sister's. Since we shared a lot of games, it's fair to say we spent a good deal of time in each other's heads. Being back in Skunk Hollow (yes, we named our house- get over it) has a tendency to bring back that general feeling and mindset. It feels like this (A) I have no control over what happens to me (B) Why bother trying at anything? (C) This is boring. You can imagine up a life way better than this.---It starts with a sort of catatonia, where I spend all my time reading and watching movies, and the next thing I know, I'm hearing voices- it's called writing. I start writing in every spare moment, chapters come flying from my fingers, and I've got characters prancing around in my dreams. That would all be very well, except that it also means I stop communicating with the outside world. My college friends call it Irene's Dark Place. In extreme situations, I stop answering my phone or going online at all.

So where do featherduster bugs come into this? Patience, my friends.
I don't know the proper name for these tiny beasties, and I've never seen them outside of New England in the autumn, which suggests that in other seasons, they're probably not so flamboyant. But in autumn, they are a vibrant blue-purple that stands out dramatically against our famous red and yellow foliage, despite the fact that these bugs are about the size of a pin head. They have diamond-shaped, translucent wings that sit at the same angle as a butterfly's, and my favorite characteristic, they have a tuft of feathery white stuff that puffs out from their backsides as though they were wearing tutus. They float complacently on the air currents, and are extremely easy to catch, with a slow swipe of one hand. From there, they will crawl to the highest point of your hand, just like a lightning bug, and take off again.

I like them. That was probably becoming obvious. To me, featherduster bugs are a reminder of the ridiculous in the midst of the mundane. They also remind me of all the things I haven't seen. After releasing a featherduster bug, my feet are that much itchier to leave Massachusetts (and it isn't athlete's foot- I checked). But you can't completely trust the featherdusters to get my butt in gear. They also bring out the chatty side in my characters. See, I write for the same reason I travel- to meet new people, see new places, and do things I've never done. Sometimes the featherdusters just drive me further into my head.

In conclusion, for those of you who haven't read between the lines, I'm having a bit of trouble with Liftoff. Mostly, it's decision-making that stumps me. And not wanting to see my money go away... I need to make sure that after my adventure, I still have the funds to come back and survive until my next paycheck. Not as easy to achieve as it is to type.

So this isn't so much an update of my activities as it is a bit of insight into my mindset. Because this is what happens when I come back- I start thinking, instead of doing, which is a maddening cycle to get into. Grrargh.

This is the dog who sits in my lap and gives me the "Rubbing my belly is more important than going away and leaving me" look. Hard to withstand sometimes.

West Virginia and too much philosophy

Life is slow for the moment- I got back a few days ago from four days in Capon Springs, WV, where my father's family has traditionally congregated for gossip and hilarity. I discovered several important things in this short time: (1) Homegrown golden apples are delightful to body and soul (2) My cousin's daughter looks exactly like her and has an awesome maniacal cackle when she's particularly amused (3) My cousin's son is secretly Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes, and may someday take over the world so he can play baseball all day. I'm not worried about this event, since it will inevitably make baked fudge pudding into an everyday dessert. (4) Capon does not serve baked fudge pudding after lunch on Thursday.

I hadn't seen this portion of my family since last October, so it was amazing to see how everyone has grown or changed, and to hear what they've all been doing... You know, I'm confused about how to cover things like this in a blog. Logically, the people who were there already know everything, and do the rest of you really care whether I played ping pong or walked to White Cliffs?

Since getting home, there are a couple things going on: I'm working again, of course, and getting my passport renewal paperwork sorted out despite certain uncooperative staplers (not naming names). Also, while in WV, I took a lot of old pictures off of Valerie's computer, and I was jolted by the ones of me taken right after college. I have a new, solid resolve to get back to that weight, which was toned and yet still healthy (no, I'm not planning to relive the gaunt, unhealthily skinny days, so no nervous hints, please). I'm finding a gym that will let me work out on a short term basis.

I've got several programs in mind for Africa, but I need help deciding on one. Or two. I need help. I need to talk to someone who either thinks about this stuff the way I do, or is able to put themselves into my mindset.

Question of the day: Why is it that I can never see my own decisions clearly, when everyone else's dilemmas usually seem crystal clear? Why do people need outside eyes to see their own lives in focus?

Ok, enough philosophy. Shaking out of the introspective mood... I love peanut butter and jelly. Nice, seedy multi-grain bread, crunchy peanut butter, and strawberry or grape jam... serious comfort food there.

Stayed tuned to this entry, because I'm going to attach pictures once I filch them from my father.
As you were.

Reunions: Sled dogs, roomies, hometowns and ex-jobs

I'm currently snugly ensconced in the curve of my mother's sectional couch, enjoying such luxuries as rum, fig newtons, free internet, and NCIS on dvd and on demand. All at once, even. I'm a multi-tasker.

I had a great visit to the Blue on Black team, almost two weeks ago now. The first question I asked after hugging Karin was "Who's that dog in the middle there??" I was pointing to a tall, dark male. She grinned and answered "That's Chisel!" I was flabbergasted, stuck between "I can't believe I didn't recognize him" and "OH MY GOD HE'S SO TALL!" When I first met the dogs, Chisel was four months old, and able to fit into most average-sized laps. Not to mention, he was all skin and bones, recovering from a digestive issue.

The dogs are looking great- they've all been running with the four-wheeler for several weeks now. Most of them remembered me- Angel did a welcome dance, and I even received the rare Scooby face-lick- and I flitted from house to house, saying my hellos and blissfully letting them cover me with fur and mud. Ah, familiar dishevelment! I've come to the conclusion that tidiness is simply not my natural state. I prefer to be mussed. All the puppies were big, and I got complete report cards on all of them- for full details, please visit blueonblackdogs.com. My friend Adam, who drove me out there, and I had dinner with Karin and Varan and the new handler, and I have every confidence that the whole team, both human and canine will come through the season with flying colors. And Louise, the handler, gets extra approval points for taking some pictures of me with the dogs.

I flew home early the next morning. It was instantly weird being back in the Lower 48. I had mean jet lag to begin with, and spent the first few days in a bleary fog. Shortly afterwards, my college roomie, Amy, arrived to visit for the weekend (YAY!)! We frolicked gleefully- a trip to Boston, to frolic with Tricia, exploration of my native colonial town, all very exciting. Ok, well, the trip to Boston was exciting. It's sad for my curly-haired copilot that Concord doesn't offer anything more interesting than the North Bridge for entertainment. It's fine. I'm entertaining in my essence.

But now my roomie is gone, and I'm picking up some work from my former employers, a dog-walking agency. Good money, and the clients don't talk back. Well,I revise that: there was a boxer yesterday who definitely had some things to say about my presence in his house. We made up today. Anyway, it's something to keep me busy while I plan my exit.

I'm bored. People are encouraged to call and say hello.

One Day Left

Well, Glenn left this morning for his annual officer's training, and I've been busily wasting time. Tomorrow is my last day in Alaska- at 2am on Tuesday, I hit the skies and head for warmer climes... well, a little warmer.

Fortunately, tomorrow I'll have something to do- my friend Adam has been kind enough to offer to drive me out to Wasilla, where Karin, Varan and the wet-nosed tailwaggers hang out these days. This I am really looking forward to! Expect an account after I get back to Mass.

Leaving any place is sad. It's funny, because I'm usually not thinking about it at the time. Once I get to the airport, then I start the dwelling and the sighing and the philosophizing. Something in the air systems of airports? Yes, I think we could make an argument for that.

People keep asking me what's next. I hate this question, not because it's not justified, but because I always feel like I'm jinxing myself if I reveal my plans. If I say it out loud too many times, plans seem to skitter away, or suddenly become too expensive, or become sidetracked by more mundane things. So I'll give you a rough idea, and then I'm clamming up:
The plan is for Africa. I've always wanted to go; it's been top of my list for a long time, partly because of all the continents, it is home to the most kickass animals. Lions? Leopards? Hyenas? Elephants? Cheetahs? Crocodiles? African wild dogs? Need I go on? Yes, of course I do- meerkats, rhinos, antelopes, hippos, jackals, giraffes, gnu, not to mention varous feathered and scaled critters. And I only skip over them because I don't know a lot of specific names. I hope to be working with some of these animals, either in a rescue or a research setting. I don't know exactly where, and I don't know exactly when- as soon as humanly possible. Of course, the african people are also extremely fascinating and I'd love to work with some of them as well. So. We'll see. That is my simplest answer to the "what's next" question. Hold your zebras- I'll give you particulars when I'm sure I won't jinx myself.

And no, I'm not superstitious, I just learn from experience.
To everyone in Skagway and from other adventures, I miss you. I'm feeling very In-Between and small right now.