Oh the weather outside is frightful

When people ask what it's like to live in Alaska, I typically respond with some variation on "it's really cold and really dark".

Which is completely and totally true.

But that's do-able.  I've lived other places that were really cold and dark, even to the point where I don't really see much daylight.  I've dealt with lake effect snow and howling winds, freezing rain and snow drifts that stay until April.  I've seen snow in June. And clearly it's not bad enough here that I left before my second winter.

But at the same time...  ho-ly wow.

Granted, these last few days have been comparatively mild with the warm winds blowing through (apparently they were hurricane-strength... so that's exciting), but before that we basically endured a month straight of "feels like" 5'F and lower.

I haven't been in the sun in weeks.  Or months.  And it's so cold that I can't really breathe.  So I try to find indoor activities.  But it does get kind of boring after a while.  A sort of 'cabin fever', if you will.

Maybe I should have known something was wrong when I got confused last week and had myself totally convinced that it was currently March.  I definitely should have known when the temperature bumped up to 15'F in November and I thought 'it was such a nice day out.'

But I don't think I completely clued in until I looked out the window today, completely unable to tell if the sun was rising, or setting.  Because it's all one motion.  With no daylight hours in-between.

Snipe.

Occupy Comment Boards

I love (read: am consistently totally floored) that there is something about a chat room/comment board that allows people a feeling of complete anonymity... and thus a total and utter lack of accountability.  Shocking what behaviors such a scenario can bring out (if I recall psych 111 correctly, psychologists call the effect 'de-individuation' [you know, that same thing that causes a spontaneous mob to form and encourage someone standing on a ledge to jump to their death] ).

For whatever bizarre reason, I ended up reading all the comments on an article about Gen-Y's who are currently unemployed.  I am consistently blown away by the inaccurate, uneducated, biased, heated remarks people feel the need to share in order for their meaningless existences to be validated.  And if they end up in a debate they can't win, or feel their life perspectives threatened, they can always stab back with an ad hominem argument and hope no one cries 'objection!'

Really?  Really now.  Let's try for a little bit of class.

Call me a devil's advocate (people usually do), but I find both sides make good points, and both sides are totally ignorant.  I could probably successfully argue either way, most of the time.

Truth is, I guess the truth is somewhere in the middle (as it usually is).  The government has problems, so do the people they govern.  Republicans have fundamental flaws, so do democrats.  We are both the product of our society and the cause of it.

Yes, I'm a slightly right-leaning Gen-y with a job.  That doesn't mean I automatically blame everything wrong in the world on the President and baby boomers.  It's not like the federal government is intentionally trying to sabotage the country... it's more of an incidental thing (I think... I would hate to find out I was giving them the benefit of the doubt only to be wrong).  It's not like the baby boomers are staying out of retirement out of a malicious desire to thwart the lives and careers of their children... mostly it's because the money they thought they had?  Yeah, turns out it's not there anymore.

And yes, there is something to be said for the theory that the mass over spending and debt accumulation typified by the baby boomers certainly didn't do us any favors.  Nor did the implied lessons of freedom from responsibility brought on by their catering to every whim.  Or the myth that "if we get an education and work hard we can live the American dream".  But I think their lives weren't so different than ours.  A boomer was born between '46 and '64.  Many of them grew up during one of the countries greatest financial booms, only to suffer economic turmoil right around the time they were graduating college and trying to make their way in the world in the mid-late 70s.  Luckily the 80s and 90s allowed them to, once again, enjoy the financial prosperity of their youth.  A Millennial was born between '80 and '00.  We grew up during one of the countries greatest financial booms, only to suffer economic turmoil right around the time we are graduating college and trying to make our way in the world.

Now if we're lucky, in five years or so we'll see the market turn around so we can once again enjoy the financial prosperity of our youth to raise our own children.  And can we honestly say that we won't follow the pattern our parents laid for us?

So am I guilty of making gross-over-generalizations?  Yes.  Often.  All the time everyday.  About most people and situations.  But I think just this once I want to be politically correct (or at least just plain correct... you know how I feel about politics).

It's that time of year

Admittedly, "that time of year" is essentially over in Alaska... but that doesn't stop me from loving it.

Fall is unquestionably my favorite season.  There is just something a little bit magical about those clear crisp skies and crunchy leaves, something that just feels right.  I'm pretty sure it was my favorite thing about living in Michigan.  Especially going on those long cross-country runs that ended at the cider mill.  Can anyone really top fresh cider and hot, home-made donuts?  I submit that they cannot!

Yum.

The clothes are even better!  You get to wear all those wonderful sweaters and jackets and layers... not to mention the beautiful colors.  All those over-saturated jewel tones paired with neutral wool and tweed that show up this season.
It's pretty freaking fantastic eh?

I think I've decided it's my goal in life to one day live somewhere with an extended fall--the longer the better.  Like Vermont.  Maybe.

Other fantastic things that Fall reminds me I'm obsessed with:

Caramel-apple cheesecake bars (seriously, these are like the best things ever)

Leather

Jumping in piles of leaves--did you know that the first time I remember jumping in a pile of leaves was our first fall in Michigan?  I was 12.

Horses, and barns of course--you ought to know those go hand in hand

New England... and also the northeast.  There is something about that area that has always felt just a little bit magical to me.

Heavy wool coats (especially in bright colors!)

Cowboy boots

I will go out of my way to jump on a crunchy-looking leaf

Leather knee-high boots (actually, this is more of a year-round sort of thing)

Running.  I don't know that I'll ever lose the whole cross-country association.

School

Football

Pumpkin bread (and cookies!)

Marvin, the Paranoid Android*

I feel life I've been experiencing writer's block, artist's block, building blocks, and block parties for months now.

I used to have all kinds of viciously snarky or deliciously off-the-wall things to pontificate on to the point of exhaustion from a-top my soap-box of pointlessness.

I miss those days.

Lately I've been coming to the realization that I become bored easily.  I guess I shouldn't call it a realization, so much as I've stopped trying to be in denial about it.  The best thing about these little epiphanies is they give me the chance to analyze myself to-death.

I feel like once my brain solves a problem once, it programs some sort of default solution into the memory mainframe, so when the same problems come up over and over again, all I have to do is run a certain program and voila.  Problem solved.  Instant boredom.  Again.

Superficially, this isn't a big deal.  I could just give myself more to do.... or something like that.

But I think that these behaviors are actually symptoms of a much more involved issue, with far-reaching consequences.  I'm working at my dream job, and I'm bored out of my mind.  Every time I get a new project I experience a little jolt of excitement.  "This is it."  I think.  "This is the project that is going to stimulate my creative juices and require me to actually work for once."  And then disappointment settles in like smog over LA county as I realize that I just have to draw up the same cubicles.  Again.  The only challenge comes when my computer decides it doesn't want to work and I have to figure out why, or if my clients ask for something impossible.  But then it's just disheartening.  Because despite my best efforts, impossible things are just like they sound.  But that doesn't stop me from trying.

I need variety.  I need a challenge.  It's like my brain has to be in a state of constantly changing stimuli, or it just shuts off.

I've tried researching, reading, writing, the outdoors, watching movies, playing games, picking up hobbies.......... and nothing.

Sometimes I make simple activities incredibly elaborate and difficult to accomplish just to have something to do.

I'm like an addict.  Constantly searching for more and more stimulation to stave off the restlessness and boredom.

But as boredom sets in, so does laziness.  Unfortunately, although the boredom is typically localized to a certain area of my life, once laziness gets its foot in the door it tends to take over the whole house.  It's all so plebeian and simple.  Why even bother doing anything anymore?

And thus we see why I need to stay busy.  Or perhaps go back to school.  Or change careers.  Or actually maybe just have a social life again.

*Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  If you haven't read it, do yourself a favor and put it on your to-do list.

Harold Hill Whiting's Obituary

Harold Hill Whiting's Obituary: The Deseret News

He will be missed.

Consolation Prize

I've always had a few ... unique... aspirations tucked away in my pocket.  I once went through a phase where it was my greatest ambition in life to be the automated voice recording on the phone.  Other goals have included things like, have a career in naming paint colors, or crayon colors, or be the person who decides on the theme all the street names are going to have in a neighborhood (did you know there is a neighborhood in Eagle River where all the streets are named after great racehorses?  That is who I aspire to be).

I haven't decided yet if I'm ashamed to admit this, but sometimes I think my favorite part of having a blog is getting to change the background.

This shouldn't be new information.  Just like my favorite part of The Sims is building people and their houses (do I ever actually play... answer=no), there is something about the color agreement of something well-designed that makes me feel at peace with my inner Martha Stewart. (Don't mock, you know you have one.)

So while we idle away the time until inspiration strikes and I actually blog about something, you can enjoy this new background.

Spring Break-Up

Funny Story... thought I posted this three weeks ago... whoops.

Lately, when it comes to blogging I have been somewhat less than inspired.  In fact, until my mother reminded me about it the other day, I had a little bit forgotten that my blog even existed.

Apologies.

For those who are unfamiliar, in Alaska the part of the year when its warm enough that things are melting, but cold enough to still be covered in dirty snow is known as spring break-up.  It is pretty universally agreed on as Alaska's least favorite time of the year.  But it didn't stop me from enjoying Alaska.  I a little bit love this place.  Except for the Winter deciduous trees (Which I have never been a fan of) it's actually quite lovely all year.  Even in the heart of winter.

Contrary to popular belief, there is still sunlight in Winter.  Yes, it rises at 11am and sets around 3:30pm... but there is still light.  I think all the whiners are just melodramatizing the whole situation.  And coming from the queen of melodrama, that is quite the accusation.

Besides, Winter in Alaska let me see things like the hoar frost (which I didn't know existed until I saw it.  I love learning new things about the weather), the Iditarod (which has been years in coming), and the northern lights (which are suprisingly un-photogenic).

I keep going back and forth on whether I want to stay for another winter.  Honestly, I really didn't mind the cold and dark--it was the lack of a social life that got to me.  After partying with people every night, hanging out with your last friend once a week is a significant change in lifestyle.  I plan to re-evaluate come November.

In an ironic twist of fate, I have a new responsibility with my church.  Basically, I do exactly what I do for my friends, for everyone.  Which involves a lot of delegating, planning, texting back and forth, spreading the word, and execution of flawlessly exiting activities.  But I found out this last week I'm in charge of a regional activity in July to which anyone in the state of Alaska ages 18-30 can attend.  Holy yikes.

But my friends are back, and people here think I'm awesome.  So thank you Alaska, and here's to another great summer.

Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here*

Like a bad made-for-TV-natural-disaster movie, crisis has struck the world.  With the 8.9* earthquake that hit Japan a few days ago--anything could happen.  Including the explosion of a Nuclear Reactor that was damaged during the quake.

Why is it always Japan?

Out of the Nuclear Disasters that have hit our planet, I'm pretty sure about half were in Japan.  With 10-story lizards, mecha-suit teams, and magical girls already rampaging about the city--do they really need another source of destruction?  The very thorough research says no.

Perhaps because of all their experience with their cities being destroyed by uncontrollable sources*, the Japanese people have shown the world order and calm in the midst of chaos.  If this same event had occurred in the US, I can only imagine the riots that would break out as we panicked.  Because we're Americans--thats what we do.  We think about ourselves and panic.

And now we've all convinced ourselves that nuclear fallout is coming and we have to take those silly pills.  As a preventative measure.

Really people?  Iodine?  That chemical can seriously mess you up.  Yes, if the worst happens it theoretically can help protect your thyroid.  But it's not something to be taken preventatively.  Yikes.

Maybe it's a generational thing.  I didn't grow up thinking in terms of bomb shelters, or that the ability to duck and cover under a nearby desk would save me.  I grew up with the knowledge of thousands of farmers getting cancer because they weren't informed of the fallout.  Think of it as a silent killer.  Stealthy, patient.  Takes its time but always gets the target.  Like a really well-trained ninja.  Not to mention the fact that if Nuclear fallout happens, there isn't much anyone can do.  About anything.

But if you want to feel better about nuclear arms--look no further:

Colbert: Better Know a Lobby

Consider me an official attendee of the: March to Keep Fear Alive

3/23 Update:  Good news America--the threat continues to dwindle.  You can stop with the whole rape, pillage, and plunder act.  (Why is it that in times of crisis its always called 'looting' and not stealing?)  At least for that whole nuclear thing.  But we may be just in time to start sharpening our pitchforks about the energy crisis.  Be prepared to join your local angry mob at a moment's notice.  I hear the plan is to take down local gas stations.

*Yes, that was a condemnation to Dante's 7th Circle

*Note: not a 9.0.  As a lover of integers, even numbers, and over-exaggeration, you can imagine how this must be killing me.  But technically the difference between the two is exponential, not .1.  To put it in perspective: the earthquake (8.9) rocked the earth at a force of approximately 380 megatons--the atomic bomb that struck Nagasaki (6.06) had a force of .021 megatons.  Just something to think about.  

*or because their entire society is built on the value of the many over the value of the one.  Y'know, either way.

Anglophiles Anonymous

C and I have a running joke, that whenever I do something that we both realize is beyond even my usual idiosyncrasies--I apologize and say I have a sickness (and it's incurable).

Ironically, my anxious and hypochondrial tendencies bounce off each other in a positive feedback loop--resulting in the melodramatic self-diagnosis that I worry about having a disease where one worries about having diseases.

Regardless.

Every year, about this time or so, I am struck with an over-whelming desire to go to the British Isles.  It's gotten to the point that I don't know if the "symptoms" of this peculiar disease caused it, or are the result of it.  But like so many other WAS' (like a WASP, but less affiliated to a specific region or religion) I feel the undeniable tie to Mother England.  I guess it's like SAD--but wanting England instead of the sun.

Now, don't get me wrong--I'm not about to go ex-pat (I'm a bit too American for my own good if you know what I mean), but that doesn't stop the waves of curiosity from crashing over me.

It doesn't help that a number of important holidays in the Isles happen between January and April.  Today, for instance, was St. David's Day.  Patron saint of Wales.  In observance, I wear all black with a bright yellow headband and belt (his flag see--yellow cross on a black field) and... my David's Day pin.  Should I admit I have this?  Or that I made it?  Shockingly, there aren't a ton of companies who carry leek products.  Not near as much commercial appeal as the kissing+alcohol+clovers that apparently means St. Patty's.  Yikes.  Also, who on earth decided that the Irish are infinitely more kissable than everyone else?  Anyway.  Leek+Daffodil=Wales.  Much more refined.  It's about all the country has left after a "long succession of the waves from which history is chiefly composed."

(My David's Day Pin--isn't it cute?)

Speaking of waves of history--in about a week or so I will suddenly decide it's a spectacular idea (and quite an essential one) to re-read one of my favorite books, "1066 and All That... a Memorable History of England, comprising all the parts you can remember, including 103 Good Things, 5 Bad Kings, and 2 Genuine Dates."  Gets me every time.  Williamanmary--getting the Orange to rule England was a very good thing.

Come St. Patrick's Day I'll be sure to wear orange with my green... let it never be said I don't play the diplomat.

Did you know that you can get a flight from Seattle to Heathrow for about the same price as Seattle to Anchorage?  Thats more bad for Anchorage than it is good for Heathrow though... yikes.

However, also at this time of year I celebrate a day that is basically the opposite of Britain.  On Fat Tuesday I celebrate the Polish way and eat Paczkis.  Catholic and Polish.  And fat.  Couldn't be further from Britain (or at least the Sloane Rangers).

The Confirmation Bias

I've decided I have impeccable timing.  Apparently I don't need to read the news--because if the last few weeks have been any indication, I know whats going to happen before it actually does.

I had a song stuck in my head.  I didn't know who sang it.  Or any words.  All I knew is it had a freaking sweet saxophone solo.  Using the reasoning that sax solos in pop music were big in the 70s and 80s, that narrowed my search.  After searching a few minutes on Google  I found it.  Because someone had posted an article literally five minutes before that the artist had died that morning.  I mean tragic that he died an all (that sax solo was genius) but seriously that I would be looking for it the day he died?  Odds?  Not super high.

RIP Gerry Rafferty

I was thinking all about knick-knacks and how they are the worst.  Me and C were talking about them, which led to my ranty blog on the subject.  Now when it got to the landfill section I felt inspired by the tidbit about Michigan.  It was a complaint that I remembered people having when I was there, so I looked it up before I posted it (Because making sure everything I say is PC has always been super high on my priority list) and ever so conveniently the first result for "michigan paid canada landfill" was a news article written the day before about how Ontario voluntarily agreed (how else would they agree?  We can hardly gag and tie them--literally forcing their hands to sign important documents... and even if we could we probably wouldn't waste the international incident on garbage.  Literal garbage.) to have some of their cities stop sending trash.  How serendipitous.  Apparently senators agree with me.  Or at least their constituents did and complained enough.  You say potato.

Also, that whole Prince William+Kate Middleton thing... One day my landlady was freaking-out excited at me about the whole thing.  We got to watch some hour-long special on the news about it.  Can I just say that I thought they already were engaged?  Had been for months?  But then I always forget that my life-long friendship with Kate allows me to know things like that far before the general public.  Or at least glancing at tabloid covers as I go through the line at the grocery store.  It's one of the two.

And iPhone?  I thought everyone knew a new generation would be coming out in the fall.  No.  Seriously.  Everyone didn't know?

*When we convince ourselves that outcomes, results, and all-out conclusions occur because of an illogical instance, and we choose to hold as evidence only instances where-in our theory holds true and ignore all others.  This is what psychology, logic, and a million other disciplines refer to as the Confirmation Bias.  However, courtrooms call it a case.  Feel free to apply whenever you think someone's argument may be using said bias.

Raspberry Beret

Confession: I have spent more than my fair share of time this last term in secondhand stores.

Really the only response to your look filled with disbelief and derision, is: I know, right?  I honestly can't even defend myself here.

That being said, it's one thing to buy an item here or there--practical jokes, white elephants, oddly-themed costume parties, (and some normal-themed costume parties)--but what's the deal with actually shopping there?  I know; budgets, blah blah blah.  But really?  Other than being used and smelly, the only thing that all the non-clothing merchandise has in common is that they're basically knick-knacks.

Knick-knacks (kk) have to be one of the more curious of human inventions.  With the exception of very few items, they serve no real function.  Have you ever seen anyone actually use a decorative spoon?  Answer=no.  So what's the point?  On the surface their sole purpose seems to be reminders of past experience.  But really, they mostly exist to prove to other people who hold stock in such things that the person who owns the kks is traveled, cultured... or at least has a lot of money.  All things we tend to respect as a society.  Seriously, the person who came up with the idea of selling commemorative junk... I don't know if they should be congratulated for their entrepreneurial spirit, or shot for their disservice to humanity.  

Regardless, we all seem to have them (myself included)

Visted Yellowstone?  Bought a t-shirt.

Washington D.C.?  WA Monument Spoon

Rushmore?  Mini ceramic replica

With every vacation your house fills with them.  As you slowly drown in your "collectibles" eventually everyone (with the exception of class 5 hoarders) will reach a point where they finally convince themselves they aren't betraying someone's memory by getting rid of the kks.

Unfortunately, at this point in the knick-knack life cycle, there aren't a lot of options.  Some people feel the need to share their old junk with people they don't know.  This is where garage sales came from.  There are not enough "why's" in the world to express my horror at this activity.  Its bad enough to buy your kks first hand on location, but to buy someone else's?  There is no nice way to say this.  Buying someone's knick-knacks is buying their old discarded junk.  It's meaningless, often broken, and usually not very attractive.  It was literally one foot in the garbage can before you decided to step in and rescue it.  Please note: items not purchased get donated, or sent to the landfill.  Which leads me to other kk relocation options.  

Donations?  Isn't this how I started the whole rant?  And it has the same problem as garage sales.  No one should want to buy other people's kks.  I just don't understand why this ever seems like a good idea.

Landfills?  For the less environmentally inclined.  Yeah--like we need more things in there.  Did you know that the State of Michigan gets paid to have other place's trash sit in their landfills?  Including places like New Jersey (The dirtiest state--which is ironic considering it's garden status).  And Canada.  Yes, for years Ontario cities have been trucking their trash to Michigan, causing the unfortunate nick-name "the Great Waste State".  

World... enough is enough.  It's time for an intervention.  

Enter the Knick-Knack Rehabilitation Program.  Take your used knick-knacks to a rehabilitation center.  The kind people there will restore the knick-knacks to their former glory (cough) and send those magnets and mini ceramic replicas back to whence they came. Where they can be resold at gift shops for a whole new group of suckers to buy into.  So, although homes will continue to be plagued by the stuff, at least the landfills will be emptier.  Plus you get the green credit of actually doing the whole reduce-re-use-recycle thing.  Repurposing and renovating is way more points on the social green hierarchy than donating.  (If you don't think there is a social green hierarchy... welcome to the bottom of the food chain)

Caveat: People with no money and college students (not necessarily mutually exclusive), have free-reign to buy things at second-hand stores,  just not knick-knacks... there's no reason for it.  Small children who have not reached the age of accountability are allowed to want knick-knacks, both new and used.  They don't know the difference.

Cosmic Chaos

Okay.  I've been trying to figure out this situation so I can summarize it as accurately as possible.


"An astrological controversy erupted online Thursday after a newspaper article erroneously suggested that the dates that determine the Zodiac signs had shifted by about a month, throwing millions of believers into self-doubt and panic."


Astrological controversy?  Isn't that like an oxymoron?  Or at least some sort of double-negative.  I was currently under the impression that astrology was already a controversy.  But hey who am I to judge.


So the skinny is that apparently the Earth is on a tilted axis (I know, groundbreaking, right?).  Because of this tilt I guess the world doesn't line up with certain constellations anymore.  So some genius decided to move back all the dates and add a new sign.  New, as-in a sign they supposedly used in Babylon like 3000 years ago.  All I'm sayin' is they got rid of it for a reason.  All those poor kids born under the sign of Ophiuchus.  Especially since now their new sign may no longer exist... again.


 Astrologers and astronomers, in an unprecedented display of unity  have refuted this new Zodiac.  Mostly by saying that they have been taking into account the Earth's tilt since they noticed back in 130 BC.  (Wow.  Sticking around for 2000 years to defend the Zodiac.  That is one dedicated guy.)  Also that anyone can look out the window at night and tell you that the constellations don't match up with the current sign.


Speaking of.  I'm inclined to agree--mostly for two reasons.  First, did someone really think that a celestial shift like that just happened over night?  Seriously?  Second.  Does it really matter if the constellation lines up with the current sign?  I mean, April 16th in Sydney has the same sign as April 16 in Seattle--but clearly those two sides of the world can't see the same sky at the same time.  Which leads me to believe it never really made that much of a difference to begin with.  


Hopefully there are no long-term repercussions from this interplanetary incident.  I'm imagining some kid twelve years from now trying to figure out her star sign and not being able to find any info on Ophiuchus.   Leading to Freudian-type identity issues as these impressionable youth of the next generation are unable to figure out what their personalities and futures are supposed to be.  Luckily, Gen X is skeptical enough to not have fallen for all the nonsense in the first place, and optimistic Gen Y complacently decided  that, good news, now there was a whole new group of people they were compatible with.


So, although the familiar Zodiac signs have been restored to their proper places, maybe this foray into the unknown was good for us.  Teaching us that anything can, and often does, change.


Or, as James Poniewozik said, "I'm not a Cancer? Suddenly all those bigoted anti-Gemini pamphlets I self-published look embarrassing."*


*As Mr. Hall tells us, Tolerance is always a good lesson... even when it comes from nowhere."