Saturday, December 26, 2009

Merry Christmas and stuff

I was a little depressed thinking this would be a lame Christmas, but it actually wasn't. Jack had to work a 24-hour shift, but he managed to get six hours off for lunch and dinner as long as he was on half-hour recall (if they called him, he had to be there within half an hour). So I brought Jack and Stormy to Cindy's house for dinner. We had a great time. Cindy taught me how to make homemade eggnog (non-alcoholic), and Jack and Mike and Dave struck up a conversation that sounded like it was mostly about military stuff. (Mike and Dave are Vietnam vets.) Stormy got along great with Cindy's dog, Jeter. We didn't introduce Stormy to the horses, but Cindy did let Jack and I help feed them. Well, follow along, really. Cindy even gave us presents! It was really nice and actually felt very Christmasy, with the great meal and the decorations and the Charlie Brown-ish Christmas tree and a bunch of people and dogs having a grand old time.

Then Jack had to go back to work, but I was allowed to keep him company for a while. Unfortunately, when Jack's in uniform, it turns I'm not allowed to show any kind of physical affection. And since Jack had to stay in uniform even when he was gone, it made for a very interesting day.

Tomorrow, the Clan is opening Christmas presents. I feel like a dork, because I got something for everyone except Jack. Well, not true. I got Jack something, but it was a cheap little thing, and I kind of wanted to get him something nice too.

I'd ramble on, but it's two in the morning, and I have to get up early, so I'm going to sleep. Toodles!

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Checking in

I'm enjoying the break from school, but I feel a little down right now for no real reason. I've had a lot of fun lately, hanging out with friends and all. Today, Jack and I went out to dinner with Dave and Mandy. Dave insisted I get the Azteca Grande, since it's apparently mandatory "initiation" for the Mexican restaurant where we ate. The burrito was almost as big as my torso. I ALMOST managed to eat the whole thing. Left a bit slightly smaller than my wallet--only about six bites left. That was ten hours ago. I still feel like I never want to look at food again.

Jack finished making a dog run for Stormy, so now I can let her outside without having to be with her all the time. I don't like letting out to roam free because the neighbors don't like her in their yard, and besides, sometimes she eats stuff that makes her throw up, like the night when she kept me up allll night long by vomiting on my floor eight times throughout the night. Every time, I had to get up, go downstairs, get the trash can and paper towels and water bottle, clean it up, and put everything back. Actually, after the fourth or so, I got smart and just kept the stuff upstairs, but still...


Nothing really to report, I guess. Just figured I'd check in, since it's been a week or so.


Tuesday, December 15, 2009


Wow, I've been seriously neglecting my blog lately.

This last Sunday, I dragged Jack out to meet my North Pole family. It was a little funny, actually--most people worry that their family won't like their significant other, but I worried that my significant other wouldn't like my family. But Jack seemed to have a great time. The kids adored him, and I think he fell asleep on the couch with his head resting on the dog, one kid curled up in front of him, and one behind him. (The "I think" there refers to the fact that I think he was asleep, not I think he was in that position. I was washing the dishes at the time and not paying too much attention.) We played Farkle, and I lost badly every time. Jack won the first game, Michelle won the second (by rolling SIX ones at the same time and shooting her score from 6000 to 14000 in one amazing roll), and I think Tony won the last game. No, Tony was the first to 10000, but in the last roll, I think Jack caught up to him and won again. Anyway, it was awesome.

Classes are over, and after this Saturday, I'm free from school for a month! YAY! Can't wait can't wait! Maybe once I'm done with school, I'll go out to North Pole and help Tony shovel snow off the lake so we can play croquet on ice. That'd be awesome!

I've been toying with the idea of getting a bow if, by some miracle, I happen to have about 500 extra dollars. Okay, so that might not happen, but I can dream, can't I? Jack and I went to Sportsman's Warehouse the other day and they let me take a bow to the little shooting range they have in the back and try it out. Considering how long it's been since I've shot a bow, I did pretty darn well, I thought. Of the first five shots, the first two were one circle outside the bullseye, and the next three were all dead-center bullseye. Granted it was only ten yards, but I was pretty proud of myself just the same.

I'm toying with this idea for a skirt I'd kind of like to sew for church if I can get my hands on a sewing machine. I think it would be the coolest thing in the world if I shot some rabbits and then trimmed the hem of the skirt in rabbit fur. I can just imagine the conversation in the women's meeting at church. "That's a very nice skirt. Is that real fur?" "Yeah, it is. Rabbit fur." "How can you tell it's rabbit fur?" "I shot the rabbits myself." "You... WHAT????" Yeah, that's right. Wearing the remains of my victims on the hem of my skirt. How cool would that be? Am I morbid? Maybe I'm morbid. But hey, how many women can claim something like that? I mean honestly claim it, not claim it falsely.

My friend Becca gave me some fancy foreign dark chocolate a day or two ago. I had it in my backpack, and then left the house for a few hours. When I came back, my dog had gotten into my backpack and eaten all of the chocolate. DOG! You ate all my chocolate! Now I don't have my Lindt dark chocolate anymore! Oh yeah, and chocolate is bad for dogs, so you might die. But you ate all my chocolate! Stupid dog! (Priorities, ya know?)

Tuesday, December 8, 2009


At FHE this evening, we played Zombie Tag, which meant you start out with one zombie, and the zombie tags other people by biting them. Instead of having a new zombie, they're now both zombies, and the game continues till everyone's a zombie. I actually did pretty well--I was one of the last standing (not counting the pansies who were hiding), and had a lovely dramatic death in which I screamed and fell to my knees and did the whole "It's getting dark..." spiel, and then I convulsed several times before rising back up again and lunging for the throat of some poor person who had decided that just because I was on the floor, I wasn't a threat. Unfortunately, of the 25-ish people at the activity, only about six or eight of them actually played. The rest were grossed out by the idea that we had to bite each other. So instead, the guy in charge decided we could play Freeze Tag (also called Stuck in the Mud). When people get tagged, they stand still with their legs spread, and you can unfreeze someone by crawling between their legs. Well, one guy got tagged, a second tried to crawl between his legs and got tagged as well, so they were standing one in front of the other, and I sprinted across the room and did a dive and slid underneath both of them at once in a heroic save! It was epic! Only I got a nasty rug burn by doing so. It kind of stings. It will not be fun when it is infected. But it was such a cool move that it was worth it. Also, I took a little satisfaction in the fact that I was the only girl who was not too sissy to play.

Afterward, I sat down at the piano for a little while and started playing one of the Mario theme songs. Remy stuck his head in the door of the room where I was playing the piano and said, "Oh my gosh, I love you!" and blew me a kiss. Jack (who I started dating roughly two weeks ago) went after him. It was this awesome epic battle with leet ninja skills and throwing stars and bazookas. They ended up calling a truce--Jack says Remy can have me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It's so nice that they can share. :P

I also got to talk with the stake president this evening, and the meeting went on for about forty-five minutes. It was pretty cool. He's such a nerd. He kept straying from the subject to talk about Star Trek and Lord of the Rings and stuff. Awesome! I love this guy!

School's been busy, but not actually completely overwhelming. The really frustrating part is the fact that it's starting to look like the school has found yet another way to keep me here and leech money from me for another semester or two. Jerks. And yes, I will be fighting this. I'm done. Since when is school more about fulfilling petty little requirements than actual learning, anyway?

Oh yeah, also, my dog is a jerk. She stole almost half of my pizza today, then pooped on my kitchen floor. Rude! She's lucky she's so cute and cuddly, I tell ya. Seriously, though, one of the first things on my to-do list after I finish with finals is to set up a dog-run for her, so I can let her outside without having to worry about a) her running into traffic (not that there's a lot of that around here) or b) her running into my other yards, getting into trash, and being dragged home by my irate neighbors demanding I keep my "blankety blank" dog under control. I'll still have to worry about wolves, but meh, minor detail.

Oh oh oh oh oh! Guess what guess what guess what!!! I got approved for the Alaska PFD! Know what that means? It means I can probably afford tuition next semester! WOOOOT!!!!!!!

Oh yeah, and I have a friend moving to Oregon because he thinks Oregon is a less depressing place than Fairbanks. That amuses me. I should get this friend in touch with Terrace. :P

That said, I'm going to go finish preparing tomorrow's presentation now. I can't wait for finals to end so I can take a break!

Tuesday, December 1, 2009


Puppy's ears are recovering sufficiently for her to be causing trouble again. Puppies do NOT belong on keyboards, of piano OR computer variety! Stupid dog. She's incorrigible. She sheds a ton of fur and it gets all over my clothing, so when I go anywhere, I shed her dog fur for her a second time. It's funny eating with a friend and pulling my dog's hair out of food made and prepared in a place my dog has never been.

I wrote a research paper for the wrong class. I thought I had one due in my Shakespeare class today, but it turns out my British Literature paper was due today, and the Shakespeare one isn't due till Thursday. Fortunately, I have the same teacher for both classes. I explained the situation and he said it was fine. Took my Hamlet paper early in place of the British Literature one. Phew!

After having my car for over two years, I've finally figured out how to turn on the bass. It's awesome listening to bass lines in my music that I never knew even existed! And it's been so long since I've played music that I can hardly remember whether it's spelled 'bass' or 'base.' It's 'bass' in music, right? I'm really losing it. Darn schoolwork is killing my brain!

The student president approached me today and asked me if I had ever considered being on the student senate. No, not really. Ever. For a reason. Why? "Well, I want the entire student body represented, not just the politicians. I also want people on the senate who are humble and more interested in bettering the school and not their own careers. And I know you're active and well-connected and honest, so I was wondering if you would consider it. Normally you have to run and get elected, but elections are pretty much over, so if you agree, I can just appoint you to the senate next semester."

Wow! That's quite an honor, especially since there are apparently only twenty people on the senate. But I don't like politics. On the other hand, Adrian's right that it would be helpful to have people that aren't rising politicians speaking up. I guess it can't hurt too bad to give it a try and do my best. What's the worst that can happen?

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thanksgiving fun!

Yesterday, my dog slipped out the door as I was trying to go somewhere. I tracked her down and eventually found her at my next-door neighbors' cabin (their cabin isn't visible from mine, so quit making fun of how difficult it was to find her :P). She was playing catch with my neighbors and their two dogs. I was worried at first, thinking Stormy was terrorizing their dogs or something, but no, they were all having fun. The neighbors offered to play with her for a little longer and let her get out some energy, then take her home afterward. I started to say that was a good idea, but before I had finished my sentence, Stormy and their bigger dog, Ernie, apparently got into a spat over the tennis ball, and they started going for each others' throats, teeth bared and snarling.

Needless to say, Stormy didn't end up staying. I drove her home and started to leave... and then I realized that her ears were bleeding. First thing I checked was whether it was bites or head injury (I was pretty sure it was bites, but I wanted to be sure). The ears weren't torn all the way through, fortunately, but Stormy didn't like it when I cleaned the blood off at all. So my poor puppy has ouchies on her ears. I wonder if I should go visit the neighbors and see how Ernie is holding up.

I had a pretty good Thanksgiving. It was my job to make the pumpkin pie and creamed spinach, and to my surprise and delight, they actually both turned out really well, despite the fact that I couldn't get hold of any ginger for the pie. (Both Safeway and Fred Meyer were completely sold out, and I didn't feel like bothering to go all the way across town to check Wal-mart when I don't like ginger that much anymore anyway.) My friends Trevor, Blake, and Rob and I all put together the dinner, and two girls, Steph and Lydia, both of whom I'm not very familiar with, stopped by for a short amount of time too. After eating, we watched V for Vendetta (which I thought was a kind of disturbing movie, to be honest, though I can't say I regret watching it) and then played a board game that had something to do with being a dork. It was a really fun game. I kind of wish I remembered the name.

Someone mentioned that it was virtually impossible to swallow a tablespoon of cinnamon. And of course, being the Lint Monkey that I am, I had to try it. They warned me that it sucks the moisture out of your mouth really fast. Being the genius I am, I thought if I swallowed it really fast, it wouldn't be too bad. ...Yeah, BAD plan! It got stuck in my throat. I had to vomit, but nothing was going anywhere. I couldn't inhale, I could hardly cough, I couldn't talk, and I could barely exhale. I seriously thought for a moment I was going to die or something. I darn near threw up in the trash can (which they had placed right at my feet before getting out the cinnamon), only I couldn't because my throat refused to work. I think I still have cinnamon stuck in my nose. It was probably the most physically painful experience of the last... several weeks, at least. Quite a bit worse than that concussion I gave myself. Holy cow! Moral of the story, if you try to eat a tablespoon of cinnamon all at once, DON'T try to swallow it really fast. In fact, maybe don't even try it. I used to love cinnamon. Now, I think I'm never going to eat anything with cinnamon in it ever again. I couldn't even say, "OW IT HURTS!" for several minutes. Sheesh!

...Yep. I'm my siblings' sister.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009


Last night was my first solo juggling performance. It was a kind of spontaneous decision. I went to the church talent show and decided to bring some juggling stuff and ask whoever was in charge if they had a few minutes for a juggling act. I was so nervous that I dropped stuff way more often than I usually do, but I got a ton of applause anyway. They clapped when I first started juggling, and then again when I started doing different patterns, then again when I dropped a ball and it rolled offstage and I caught it in midair as it fell off the stage (strut strut... it was pure dumb luck). They clapped again when I brought out the clubs, and both clapped and laughed when I started juggling plungers. When I brought out the machetes, they applauded AGAIN, and there were some gasps and cries of, "Are those freaking REAL?" They even clapped when I dropped the machetes and cut my arm! I was so nervous that I forgot to do half my tricks, and I finished with too much time left in the song (I'd had it timed so I could show off my tricks and finish just as my song was ending), so I had to improvise. I grabbed a club, a plunger, and a ball, and started juggling one of each. After my five-minute show was over, I sat down and shook from nerves for about fifteen minutes.

The other acts were good. Many of them were playing-guitar-and-singing acts. There were some really good hula dancers and a few comedy acts (improv, story-telling, stand-up comedy). One guy got into a swimsuit and had two guys hold him up in the air so he could show some swimming techniques. Another guy had a drummer, turned on only the red stage lights and sang a love song in a deep studly voice. It was pretty hot. Someone else did card tricks. A few girls turned off all the lights and danced with flashlights. One girl read some poetry she had written herself. Another guy showed us his spray paint art, which he normally sells for about thirty bucks apiece. I'm sure there were other acts I can't remember now.

Oh yeah! There was also food! Lots of food! Including pumpkin pie! I LOVE pumpkin pie! It's pretty much the manna of all life. I don't know how the world could go on without pumpkin pie. It's the most scrumdiddlyumptiously delectable delight in the solar system. Probably the universe, too. Incidentally, I'm making one tomorrow for Thanksgiving on Thursday, and I've never made one before, so if you happen to know a really good recipe for one, let me know. Otherwise, I'm just googling a recipe.

Saturday, November 21, 2009


Sometimes I just randomly get the urge to bake. So yesterday I decided to bake something. But not just anything. Normally I can throw box mix brownies together and satisfy the urge, but yesterday, I wanted to experiment. So I made chocolate pumpkin chocolate chip brownies. A double-batch of them. Then I brought them to my creative outlet in the evening, and the entire double-batch was gone in two hours. Maybe three. Apparently, my experiment turned out pretty darn well! :D Yay! I was surprised, because I couldn't actually find a recipe for chocolate pumpkin, so I had to find a recipe for normal pumpkin chocolate chip cookies and then alter it by replacing some of the flour with cocoa. Except then it needed more sugar. And then... well, anyway, I was pleasantly surprised with how they turned out.

Also, I managed to jump up and smack my head hard on the garage door track. Afterwards, I was tired and dizzy, which makes me wonder if I got a very very minor concussion. Not that it matters, since it did no damage other than a little bump. I hit it pretty hard. Good thing I have such a thick skull. :P

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

happy slurpy noises

My friends Jack and Kitty came to visit yesterday. It was the first time I've had a visitor besides Peter in my cabin. I still don't have any shelves or a desk or table or even a decent bedframe, but I had just barely finished finally installing a clothes rod so I could hang up shirts when they showed up. The first thing they did when they arrived was start cleaning. My house isn't THAT big of a disaster; it looks much worse than it is because of the boxes everywhere. I can't wait to finish getting furniture so I can finish unpacking and make my living environment more comfortable. It's going to look pretty awesome when I finish moving in, I think. Just having a place to hang my clothes has made my loft look twice as good.

I'm still coughing and hacking everywhere, although I feel a little less feverish, finally. I'm sick to death of chicken noodle soup. I hate coughing and hacking all through a class. I feel like it interrupts the teacher and grosses out the people sitting near me. I'm not going to lie--I skipped a few classes mainly because of that. Well, also I don't want to get other people sick.

My dog is grossing me out by making these happy slurpy noises as she licks her butt. Ewwww! Peter makes fun of me because I'm too easy on her. It's true, I kind of spoil her rotten. I want my dog to be my friend, not my slave.

I had to give a report today on an article about the origin of the Navajo language. The author of the article sounded like a pompous snob who was hiding a weak argument behind his admittedly extensive vocabulary. The first line said, "Internal linguistic evidence for inferences as to cultural antecedents..." and it all went downhill from there. My favorite sentence from the article said, "If we could find internal linguistic evidence in Navaho, of cultural implications, tending, as it were, to free Navaho and Navaho culture from their present Southwestern environment, the initial probability of a northern provenience would be strengthened." In English, what that says is, "If we found proof that the Navajo aren't from the southwest, then it would be more likely that they were from the north." Clever, isn't he?

Monday, November 16, 2009

It's weird being sick

For some reason, when I'm sick, it makes me feel better to take my temperature and see a number over 100. I guess it solidifies my sickness or something. It's like mathematical evidence. "See, you are justified in feeling sick." I've been nasty-sick for a few days, and yesterday got some cheapo thermometer just to justify feeling sick, and it won't even give me a reading as high as 98 yet. Just 96s and 97s. Apparently I'm undersick? What?

The fact that I'm coughing so hard that my gag reflex is kicking in, and I can't sleep because I can't lie down because the fluid goes to my lungs or something and makes me cough more seems to make up for the failed thermometer test. Maybe I'm just putting the thermometer in the wrong orifice.

I'll try my nose next time. Yes.

So yeah. I've been trying to sleep since like eight. It's now 3:30 in the morning. I just got up (again) because I'm coughing too hard to cough lying down. The horizontal position does not allow for enough recoil. So I had to take more Sudafed. And Theraflu. And chicken noodle soup, while I was at it. Then I let the dog out, so I can't go back to bed till she decides to come back. I really need to get a zipline for her or something. Especially given her tendency to chase cars. Stupid animal. I know, I know, I'm a horrible person for not putting her on a leash and taking her for a walk to pee when it's twenty below outside and I'm in my pajamas. It's bad enough having to go outside myself to pee when it's twenty below outside and I'm in my pajamas. No, seriously, have you tried using toilet paper when your fingers are numb with cold? It's weird!

Oh hark! The sound of claws scratching up my front door! Either Stormy's back, or the bears have come out of hibernation due to the sudden epiphany that they'll have to break into my cabin to get to the peanut butter.

Nope, just Stormy. Glad she's back, but I'm a little disappointed, too. The bears would have made a much more interesting story. ;)

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

late night pictures,,, because why not.

I woke up in the middle of the night with a fever and sore throat and can't get back to sleep. But I have internet now, so that means you can have a few pictures.

Me, Rob, Blake, Will, and Becca at the contra dance. Did I mention that was a blast?

Blake has really cool biking goggles. So I stole them.

I got these pictures off Facebook... my camera battery is dead and I can't remember where I put my charger. Really wish I had a break from school so I could unpack. Rawr.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Oh hey...

I have internet finally! :O Neat!

I had a bunch of things I wanted to write about yesterday, but now I can't remember any of them. That's probably a good thing, since I ought to get more homework done. I haven't been sleeping well. Or working well. Or doing anything else well. It was like my brain just decided to give up sometime last week. It was doing so well all semester, and now suddenly BAM! It's dead. Or gone. Or maybe just severely crippled. I don't even know. Either way, it's rather detrimental to... well, everything.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

I can haz dance?

I went contra-dancing with some friends last night. It was a ton of fun and probably even worth missing Earthdawn for! I knew about half a dozen people there and now know the names of about as many more. It was way better than the church dances I attended as a teenager because a) we weren't all just jumping around randomly like mexican jumping beans on crack, and b) people asked me to dance every single time because everyone actually went there to dance and not because they were obligated to go. (Okay, well, I was obligated, sort of, but I wanted to dance anyway, because I'll try anything once as long as it won't kill anyone, get me arrested, or cause serious damage.) Twice, I actually got asked by two different people and had to ask the second to save the next dance for me.

I felt like I was pretty terrible because I kept forgetting steps, and rushing up late, and I still can't figure out what the "balance" move is all about, partly because everyone seems to do it differently. But nobody really seemed to care, and they laughed right along with me as they made similar mistakes. I was glad most of the people remembered the moves and could steer me in the right direction when I forgot a step. If there's one thing I'm pretty good at, it's following. (But not so much when I was waltzing with Will, because I was trying to step in time to the music and, well, he wasn't.)

I don't think I stopped grinning all night. It was way fun, and I was actually pretty sad when it ended, partly because it meant the fun was over, partly because I had to part with all the cute guys (except the ones that came to Denny's with us afterward), and partly because it meant it was time to start thinking about schoolwork again.

Schoolwork. Sigh. Oh well. The break was nice while it lasted.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Of coffee, knives, and Card

Interesting how human cravings work. I've heard it said that one of the healthiest ways to eat is to eat whatever you feel like eating because your body knows what it needs better than your brain. You might think, "Well, if I did that, I would eat nothing but chocolate all the time," but it's actually not true. Your body will tell you, "I crave asparagus, I crave oranges, I crave cheesy cauliflower." At least, mine does. And there are times when my brain says, "Ooo, candy bar!" and my body says, "Ugh, not now."

Well, for the last two days, for some weird reason, I've had a craving for those cold Starbucks mocha drink thingies in the little glass bottles. You know, the ones that taste awful because they're coffee and the ones that are horrendously overpriced. But a two-day craving can't be ignored (and no, it's not an addiction, since I never drink coffee and actually can't stand the stuff), so I went ahead and bought some. And yeah, it tastes just as bad as I remembered. Well, it's not BAD, I guess. I think I mentioned the one time I tasted it before that if it weren't for the distinct coffee flavor, it would actually make a pretty good hot chocolate.

In fact, there was a dark chocolate mocha there too that I thought might be worth trying, and that one was actually pretty tasty. I could hardly taste the coffee at all. So now it's eleven at night and I'm all coffeed up and theoretically won't have much trouble staying awake long enough to do my homework assignment that's due tomorrow. Provided I eventually get around to doing it instead of writing in my blog, that is. But I haven't REALLY written for a while, I think, so I might as well.

Juggling club is going great. We've still got several active members, almost all of whom are enthusiastic, eager to learn, and excited to teach.

I'm at Peter's right now, leeching his internet. He's nice to me. He makes me food and lets me use his shower, since I don't have one. Also, he gave me a knife. It's one of those flippy ones where you push a button and it flips open, and then you can slide up a thingy to lock it. Oh yes. Fear my technical terminology. It's a pretty sweet knife, actually. It has this cool angle that makes it ideal for self defense, should I ever need to use it for that. Also, the blade is black. It's a nice addition to my collection. I love knives. :D

My cabin is nice and comfortable. I still need to acquire a computer desk and a few chairs, and I need to put up a rod to hang my clothes from and some bookshelves. Several bookshelves. I have a lot of books. I love books. I'm hopefully getting internet out there this weekend too. Yay!

Stormy likes the place. She's finally starting to get used to the idea that I'll come back when I leave, although she's still clingy enough to make some of us (me and my friends) worry about her. For example, yesterday I left her for twelve hours, and I didn't give her much food before I left because Peter said she would be less likely to poop in the house while I was gone if I didn't give her much food. By the time I got back, I figured she would be starving. She was really excited when I got back, and when I gave her food, she took a few bites, but when I walked away to put the food bag away, she clung to my side like a tick and refused to eat unless I was there beside her the whole time. It's no wonder she's so skinny! She refuses to leave my side when I'm at home, and she hates it when I leave. I guess being alone in that cold, dark, tiny cabin can't be too exciting. Maybe I should get her a friend. Like a cat.

Hmm, what else? I got an A on my Morphology midterm, which is good news. My workload has shrunk to a manageable size for the next week or so, which is also good news, since I'll need the next week or so to finish the moving process. My friend Blake brought me a new book to read. It's called The Memory of Earth, by Orson Scott Card. I like it so far, but then, I'm on page seven, so I can't really judge it very well yet. I read a short story by Orson Scott Card once, and I absolutely loved it. The only other thing I've read by him was Ender's Game, which I wasn't impressed with at all. It took me three tries to get through the book, and when I finally waded my way through it, I put it down thinking, "Okay... now I can understand what people are talking about when they rave about it... but I still can't understand why they do." Maybe I just dislike protagonists with zero personality or something. Maybe I thought the entire thing where his twelveish-year-old siblings take over the world by pretending to be philosophers was retarded. Maybe I thought the book was too violent. Maybe I thought the author did a really lousy job trying to portray a six-year-old super-genius. Actually, it was probably all of the above plus maybe a dozen other reasons. Either way, I wasn't impressed with Ender's Game. I guess we'll see how Memory of Earth is.

Okay. Well, it's way past the time I should have gotten on my homework, so I guess I'll have to wrap this up and not get started on telling you about the boy situation. Pity about that, huh? ;)


Tuesday, November 3, 2009




That is all.

Monday, November 2, 2009


I almost killed a kid yesterday. Two-year-old Brayden wanted me to toss him up in the air. He climbed up on the couch and begged me to throw him up, so I looked up and made sure there weren't any rafters in the way, then tossed him up as high as I could. Well... I looked up, but I didn't look up and back, and his head smashed into a chandelier. He screamed, and when I looked at the chandelier, I noticed the one he smashed his head into no longer had a bulb, and for one horrifying second, I thought I had smashed the bulb into his face and I would look down and see bits of broken glass sticking out of the new holes I had punctured in his skin. But no, he wasn't bleeding at all, and it turns out I didn't break the chandelier. (There hadn't been a bulb in that one to begin with.) Once his parents realized he had nothing worse than a potential bump on the head and the chandelier was okay, they had a good laugh about it. Man, I felt horrible!

Well, the place I was living felt crowded, and I didn't really have a place to plug in my car. In fact, I didn't have room to finish moving in my stuff, so my cold weather gear was/is still in storage. So I moved out and now I have my own cabin (with my puppy). It has no running water, but at least the outhouse has a heat lamp and blue foam, so it's not too miserable. At least, not at -10. It's a little annoying, though, that once I have my pajamas on, I have to get fully dressed in warm clothing if I have to use the bathroom.

Oh yeah, also, I haven't showered in three days. I was going to use the showers on campus, but I didn't realize till I got to campus today that I'd need my student ID card. I don't actually know where mine is, and I'm too cheap to spend $15 buying a replacement when it's probably packed away in one of the boxes I'll be unpacking here soon anyway. So then I was going to shower at Peter's house, but I think he's mad at me, so maybe I should find an alternative.

Stormy apparently has separation anxiety. She gets really mad when I leave without her. She doesn't tear stuff up while I'm gone, but she will crap on the floor right in front of the door, even if I'm only gone for two hours. She knows better. Bad puppy! (Now I'm really glad I made a point to get a place with hardwood floors.)

On Halloween, I went bowling with some friends. First of all, watching Sith lords and jedis bowl and "use the force" to make the ball spin over and knock the pins down is really awesome. Second of all, I'm terrible at bowling. In the first game, by the fifth set, my total score was 5. Then I went to the snack food stand and found a really shiny ball that I decided to use, and then my score started improving. My final scores were 40, 76, and 98. This is proof that shinies really are better.

That said, I have to go to class. I'll update more when I have internet at my cabin... which I don't have right now.

Friday, October 30, 2009


I suddenly find a dog in my care. She's a Siberian husky named Stormy, and she's basically the best animal I could imagine taking care of. She's a year and a half old, housebroken, doesn't chew, never barks, and has been impeccably well trained, although she was a lost dog (I only found her a few days ago), and she seems to have forgotten some of her training. She's picking it up again so fast that she has to have known it before, even though she is really smart. I've only had her for a few days, and she already sits down right away when I snap my fingers. She also knows "stay," "up," "down," and "shake." We're working on "heel" still.

She's very skinny, and I'm a little worried about her, because she doesn't eat very much. I occasionally give her table scraps as long as she's not begging for them. I'm not sure if I'm successfully making sure she gets food in her belly or just perpetuating the problem by teaching her that if she neglects her doggy food then she'll get some people food.

I have yet to hear her bark. I know she has vocal chords because when I first saw her, I heard her howl a little bit. Since then, the only time I heard her make a sound was last night when we were running and got attacked by the neighbor's dog. (This dog attacks me all the time whether I have a dog with me or not.) The other dog charged us, barking and growling like mad with his fur all on end, and Stormy growled and body-slammed him. The smaller dog ran away and we went home. Good dog!

Her only "flaws" are a) she's not very playful for a year-old puppy (although she always loves to run), and b) she thinks she's a lap dog. It's funny, because I'll be trying to study, and a 50-pound husky will crawl into my lap, lie down on top of my textbook, and insist I'm not paying enough attention to her. (I'm just guessing the weight, by the way. I may be way off.)

Oh yeah, also, she seems to like playing video games with my roommates.

Saturday, October 24, 2009


When I get my own place, I'm going to actually learn to cook. And I'm going to actually cook almost every day. I have decided this. Also, I'm getting a dog and a gun, just because it seems like a wise idea... My friend from juggling club, Becca, says if I get a dog, she wants to move in with me. Also, she wants to drag me out on a shopping trip to make me start dressing like a girl. Rawr! Nothing wrong with dressing like a Lint Monkey!

So anyway, Becca and I drove down to North Pole today to look at dogs. It figures the one day a week the place is closed happens to be Fridays. Oh well--we'll just have to go again! :D

Speaking of puppies, Tony's dog is having puppies this weekend. Pitbull/chocolate lab mix. I expect they're going to look really funny.

I've been looking for a cabin to move into for weeks. I'm not really too concerned about running water, but I want something with a loft (pretty common for dry cabins), within 5 miles of the university, and a place that allows dogs. Oh yeah, also 600 a month or less. The only ones I've found have been taken before I could even call to see them.

Theoretically, my new glasses are coming in tomorrow!!! Can't wait, can't wait, can't wait!!!!!

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

"Pretty good"

So one of the midterms I was stressing over this week apparently isn't actually for two weeks. The research paper I killed myself all day writing Monday wasn't actually due till Thursday. But the research proposal I thought was due Thursday was actually due yesterday. At least I was right about the dates of the other midterm and the oral presentation I have to give this week. Since I have time, I'm going to redo part of the research paper anyway. Not too much of it, though, since I still have a lot to do before tomorrow. And then I can relax for reals. For a few hours. Before getting a jump on next week's work.

It's obnoxious. It seems like no matter how much I break my neck, I'm never going to be better than an A- stupid at the absolute best. All of the research papers I've written so far have come back with a low A- and the comment "pretty good." On the paper I brought into the Writing Center, the only mechanics he marked me down on were ones that the lady at the Writing Center changed. I was a little amused. I wasn't sure if I should share my amusement with the professor, because I didn't want him to think I was nagging him to give me a higher grade. I mean, I'd normally be glad for an A- on a paper, since in the past, I've put them off till the very last minute, hardly do any research, and make the paper one big joke. In fact, most of the teachers I've had before usually give me A's for crap like that, since I would get the information in there, just joke around about it.

It seems unfair that now that I'm really trying hard, citing twice as many sources as the teacher requires, and writing papers that I read through afterwards and go, "Man, this is a great paper! I'm so getting an A on this!" that the best I can ever pull off is a "pretty good." I don't want to be "pretty good." I want to be freaking AMAZING! This is unacceptable!

It's also lame that research papers, at least for the professor that teaches both the classes I have to write research papers for, aren't allowed to have anything funny in them. At all. You would think wit would earn you extra points in a research paper about a Shakespeare play... I guess I'm doin' it wrong.

....Also, my nosepiece-less glasses are starting to hurt my nose. I hope they finish my new glasses soon. :(

And if you want pictures of me in that slinky dress they made me wear, you'll have to look on Facebook, because I don't want to post the pictures here.

Saturday, October 17, 2009


I broke my glasses today. I was buying a broom and a bunch of other stuff and started to drop the eggs I was holding, tried to catch the carton, and the handle of the broom swung around and nailed my glasses, knocking the nosepiece askew. So I tried to straighten the nosepiece, but the glasses are five years old and I'm not exactly gentle with them... in fact, I have to straighten that nosepiece usually five or six times a week, which is why the metal was so weak.

So I don't know whether I should go see if I can get the nosepiece welded back on or if I should just get new glasses. I mean, five years is a pretty good old age for glasses. Maybe I should get a pair that's a little sturdier. Maybe even the kind where the nosepiece is built into the glasses so it can't really break off.

Hmmm, what to do... guess I'll go see how much fixing the glasses would cost first and then compare. Heck, if they're both relatively cheap, maybe I'll do both and actually have a backup pair! :O

Wednesday, October 14, 2009


Today, I was having a conversation with Peter and we got to talking about excommunication. What happens when you get excommunicated? he wondered. Frankly, I don't know, since I've never been excommunicated and don't really know anyone who has been. (I think when I was really little, I had a friend whose mom was, but she and I didn't exactly poor our hearts out to each other on a regular basis.) Well, when in doubt, what does one do? "MOOOOMMMMMMYYYYYYY!!!!" So I picked up my phone and called my mom. She picked up, and I said, "Okay, um... Mom... you're not going to be very happy when I ask you this... but um... what exactly happens when you get excommunicated?" Dead silence. And then my dad picked up the phone, chased Mom off, and proceeded to talk for about twenty minutes about something completely unrelated. I can only imagine what my poor mother was thinking. Hahahaha! That couldn't have gone better if I'd planned it!

I did eventually get the answer. And no, I don't plan on getting excommunicated anytime soon. But I did finally get a new power supply for my piano, so I can play again!!! WOOT!!!

We had a big argument at juggling practice today over whether or not I would look good in a slinky dress. And by "big argument," I mean everyone insisted I would look good in one, and I said, "No, I absolutely would not." They decided that after our next practice, we're all going to pile in the car and go to Value Village and try some on. I ONLY agreed to go because Rob and Blake said that if I put on a slinky dress, they would too.

We had probably eight people at practice, which is actually about average now. Rob says he's actually proud of me for picking the club back up. YAY!!! :D We're manning a booth to show off to high school kids this Friday, then have a performance on Halloween. The Multi-Cultural Office said they're having an event in November that they would like us to perform for as well. I also want to go to the lady who's in charge of the Pub (yes, this university has a pub on campus) and see if she'll let us--or at least those of us over 21--perform there one evening. I wasn't going to charge--it just seemed like a good way to recruit.

After my chiropractor appointment today, I went in the Subway downtown to grab some food. After I pulled up, I realized it seemed like a kind of sketchy place. The Subway was in an outlet mall, and the entrance was shared with the place next door, which was a smoker's gift shop. I decided it couldn't hurt to at least go in and check it. I figured if the place looked as sketchy on the inside as the outside, I could always just turn around and leave. So in I went....

And the people working on the Subway staff were the friendliest Subway staff I have ever met. They were super smily and bouncy, and I gave the one making my sandwich a hard time because it was her second day on the job, teased the one at the cash register for getting paid to watch the other two girls work. He gave me an extra cookie. :D So I tipped them. I'm definitely going back there next time I'm in the area and hungry.


I hate it when I slow down to turn and people tear around me on the shoulder of the road. It irritates me. I'm not really sure why. I guess because I feel like I'm being snubbed as a nuisance. "How dare you get in my way and make me drive on the shoulder of the road like this!" I feel like they're saying. "I hope you know your sluggishness made me break a law!"

I also hate it when people act like jerks and then strut around because they're proud of themselves because they think they're funny. And then they turn to me and expect me to praise them, and I would kind of rather slap them and say, "Seriously, where did you learn to treat people?"

Despite my whining, I'm actually in a pretty fantastic mood. I managed to finish all my papers this weekend. I was working pretty much every minute I had starting last Tuesday, but I'm finally caught up. I had a terrifying moment in class when I thought my teacher wouldn't accept one of the papers I spent all weekend working on, but it turned out all right. I'm pretty confident that if I didn't totally ace the papers, I at least did my best. It's really weird, though. All my teachers are actually requiring I start using a formal register for my papers. This is probably the first time my teachers haven't let me get away with being a little snot in writing. I'm discovering I'm actually reasonably good at writing formal research papers. "Reasonably good."

I finished writing my two research papers around eight last night, and the Writing Center was still open. I thought the conclusion of one was a little choppy, and I didn't feel like the papers were quite focused enough, so I thought, "Meh, I have a little time, and some of the tutors in the Writing Center are pretty good. It can't really hurt to bring it in." I went to the Writing Center a few times last year because I was required to for a class. Both times, I got the same tutor, and he was absolutely fantastic. He actually explained to me for the first time in a way I could understand why your conclusion is just a repeat of your introduction, gave me outstanding substantive advice, and didn't nitpick my grammar because I occasionally intentionally go against the "rule" for emphasis. (For example, I occasionally start a sentence with a conjunction, but I do it on purpose to draw attention to the sentence.)

This time, I have to say, I was not impressed. At all. I told the girl I was a senior in linguistics and that all I was concerned about was whether it was focused enough and whether the conclusion was too choppy. First she spent about ten minutes nitpicking my header. Then she proceeded to go through my paper line by line, reading (about as smoothly as a third-grader) each sentence and changing things that did not want or need changing. She tried to put in two spaces after periods (which you only do if you're using a typewriter), she changed the word "that" to "which," ignored the comma that needed to be inserted, and then rolled her eyes when the computer, predictably, pointed out the grammatical error and told it to ignore it. She made fun of my "weak word choice" and said that I need to "grow out of that," and never got around to telling me how my focus was. Then she pointed to a quote that was just under three lines long.

"Why is that not in block quote format?" she asked.

"Because it's not a block quote."

"You DO know the rules for block quotes, don't you? A block quote is--"

"Yes, a block quote is a quote that's four lines or longer. I know."

"Then why isn't this a block quote?"

"Because it's not four lines long."

"Yes, it is. See, one, two, three, four."

The block quote started as the last word on one lined, filled the next two lines, and then finished as the first word on the fourth line. I tried to explain it to her. "Look, you start here. Go down one line at a time. One line. Two lines. And there we're in the middle of the next sentence. It's not even three lines."

"No, that doesn't matter. It's four lines," she said stubbornly.

I rolled my eyes. "That's right. English majors can't count."

"EXCUSE ME??? It's not that I'm too STUPID to realize that YOU don't think it's four lines, but YOUR argument doesn't MATTER in this case!"

Okay, in retrospect, I shouldn't have been rude. I almost felt bad for her, since if she got that defensive that quick, she's obviously either got an inferiority complex or she's been made fun of before. But my gosh, she was being obnoxious. I am definitely convinced that I know more than she, and I don't say that very often.

On a completely different note, I got a phone call from the girl who's in charge of the church choir. Apparently, their pianist is out of town, the back-up pianist can't play the song they're singing, and the choir is supposed to be performing this Sunday, so can't I please please please help because they're desperate? Yay. I get to don a dress and go to church this Sunday. Oh well, at least I get to play the piano. That makes up for it, I suppose.

Kitty really likes taking showers. He sits under the spray and drinks a bit, and then closes his eyes and falls asleep. It's kind of cute.

Hope that's enough of an update, because I'm definitely tired now. Toodles!

Monday, October 12, 2009

Bad Kitty

Kitty and I are no longer on speaking terms.

I was holding him on my shoulder today while I wrote one of my research papers. He cuddled up against my neck and seemed pretty content for a good twenty or thirty minutes. And then he started biting and clawing me. I tried just brushing him away a little, but the more I tried to get him to be gentle, the harder he attacked me. When I tried to pick him up to put him back in his cage, he refused to let go of my shirt. Kitty was not happy, and I don't even know what I did. I didn't make any sudden moves and didn't hear (or make, obviously) any sudden noises.

Bad Kitty. :(

Saturday, October 10, 2009


One of my roommates got a green cheek conure. I'm not a fan of birds, but this one is kind of pretty and so far has been fairly quiet and well-behaved (and hasn't attacked anyone, unlike a certain rooster I know). Casey's thinking of naming him Chaucer, but it's been three days and he hasn't decisively chosen a name yet, so I continue to call his bird Kitty. Kitty seems fairly smart and cuddly, although today he's kind of in a mood. Normally when I move slowly and talk quietly, he seems to like me reaching in and petting him and picking him up, but today he'll have none of it. He climbed all over the cage, then flew across the room, so I retrieved him and put him on Casey's shoulder, since he didn't seem to want to be around me. Kitty promptly crapped all over Casey. Silly Kitty.

Friday, October 9, 2009


When most people get senioritis, they feel blah. They see the end in sight and go, "I don't even care anymore," and just kind of slack through to graduation. For some reason, I seem to have it the opposite way around. I think this is the hardest I've ever worked in my life. Yesterday I spent six hours writing a research paper, and the sad part was, I actually enjoyed doing it. That's probably good, since I have five more papers due in the next week.

I got in a big argument with a girl in my language and gender class over whether the word "pen" should be phonetically spelled with a schwa or an epsilon. She ended up asking the teacher, who said, "Um... schwa maybe?" But the teacher's an anthropologist, not a linguist. Sorry, but a schwa is an unstressed "uh" kind of sound, like in the last syllable of "melon" or "open" or the first syllable in words like "above" or "confront." It's the sound that really throws people off in spelling because it can be spelled with pretty much any vowel, because it's unstressed and has no specific form. But "pen" is one syllable, so the vowel is stressed, so it's pronounced in a different part of your mouth, so you would use an epsilon, which makes an "eh" sound, like in "met" or "bed" or... "pen." I don't even see how she can argue with me on this. Especially since she tries to spell the word "bird" with a schwa. There's no schwa in "bird" unless you're trying to pronounce it "buhrd"! You know what the vowel sound is in the word "bird"? The R! Seriously, the letters R, N, and L can all function as vowels. Cool, huh?

It's kind of weird that I'm now at the point that when I talk to my friends outside of class, we talk about academic stuff. I ran into my friend Jeremy and he started telling me about the verb themes in the Athabaskan languages. And I already knew about it from a class independent of his.

Geez I'm such a nerd!

Thursday, October 8, 2009


Obama has just gained ten coolness points.

Monday, October 5, 2009

The Juggler Diet

It takes a very strict diet to be a good juggler. Here's a snapshot of UAF's juggling club having their after-performance meal at Starvation Gulch.

Friday, October 2, 2009


I slept until past noon today. I felt like a bit of a loser for sleeping through class, but considering I woke up feeling like I'd been run over by a truck and then had my throat skewered by a blue-ring octopus wielding a tuning fork, I decided to forgive myself. I've been coughing and hacking all day, which really isn't making my throat feel any better. But at least my stomach stopped hurting. And I don't have a headache. Anymore.

Since I'm sure you're all waiting with bated breath to hear about this: At my last chiropractor appointment, he jerked my neck loose, and suddenly, mobility in my arms just about doubled. It was pretty amazing. Unfortunately, he had broken apart old scar tissue, and it started hurting in less than two hours. Maybe six hours later, it felt stiff again. Baby steps, I guess.

Dang, my throat hurts.

I wish I had lucky dice. I have four sets, and they all hate me, I swear. They especially hate my human swordmaster. She could potentially be a really freaking b.a. character, except my average roll is like... four? In the last battle in our most recent campaign, for example, our group barged into the boss's room. He was behind a desk with a hostage, and he had his dagger across her throat. I tried to launch myself across the room at him. I rolled badly and barely made it halfway there. Next turn, I jumped onto the desk and swung my sword at him. I critically failed, overbalanced, and fell off the desk onto my face. The next round, I tried to crawl around the desk and come up behind the boss so I could attack from behind. I failed and he saw me. The next round, I attacked him anyway, but I missed and hit the hostage--and THEN I rolled a good number--for 13 points of damage. Fortunately, she was an illusion, and as soon as I hit her, she disappeared. He surrendered the next turn. So the only useful thing I did was by accident.

The only other useful thing I did in the whole campaign was also an accident that was the result of a failure: we were in a big melee fight (our six people against a mob of 15 thieves). The cat-man had attacked the guy who had been kicking my butt, knocked him down, and jumped off to help someone else. Two other guys closed in on me, one swung, and I tried to dodge, tripped, fell over, and accidentally impaled the guy the cat had knocked down.

The saddest part is that this is the character that's supposed to be a graceful swordsman with a Great Broadsword +1. The kind of great swordsman who could slice the buttons off your shirt and trim your whiskers for you before you have time to blink. She's NOT supposed to be a klutzy buffoon. My dice simply demand it. And of course, this whole time, the cat guy was launching himself around the room, one-shotting a thief every... freaking... round! Except for the time I tripped, I don't think I caused any damage all game. It was frustrating. Being useless sucks.

I have homework to catch up on tomorrow... and I don't wanna. I want to sleep and get better. :( I hate being sick. Especially when it's just sick enough to be miserable, but not so sick that you can really justify canceling obligations or even sleeping for more than maybe nine hours.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Back doctor

Today I went to the chiropractor for the first time in many years. He said that my lower back is more or less fine (a little surprisingly), although it needed a few minor adjustments. Normal wear and tear. One vertebra wasn't rotating properly or something, so he jerked it loose. My neck and shoulders, on the other hand, freaked him out. He said he hasn't seen anyone with muscles as tense as mine in anyone under the age of maybe 50 unless they'd been in a traffic accident or some other traumatic incident. Try as I might, I can't think of any specific trauma I've been through. I've just had really tense shoulders for very many years. Either I'm just naturally tense (and maybe a little paranoid), or I've completely blocked it from my memory. I'm inclined to believe I'm just tense. Or maybe it's from when I electrocuted myself. (Actually, probably not, because when I was 14 or so--years before I electrocuted myself--I remember a guy I used to dance with who told me I was so tense he felt like he was dancing with a wall.) Who knows. Either way, he says he can fix my headaches and help me loosen up my shoulders, so I'm pretty excited. I don't even know what it feels like to be able to relax those muscles.

Starvation Gulch

Starvation Gulch was a lot of fun. The bonfires didn't seem as hot as last year. I'm not sure if it was due to the snow, or if they were set a little further back, or if the wind happened to be blowing in a better direction or something, but either way, I was grateful not to be dying of heat stroke.

Afterward, the juggling club went out to Denny's. A fun time was had by all. We had a lot of non-jugglers tag along with us, and ended up with a party of probably ten or so, all of whom got up and moved around a lot. I left our poor waitresses a few bucks extra for a tip.

Most of us got a few minor battle scars from the Gulch. I got a few nicks because
I spent most of the show with the machetes (we had enough jugglers there that almost all the fire stuff was in use almost all the time), and I caught the blades a few times. Okay, maybe several times. Becca singed some hair off her arms, Christian singed some hair off his head, and poor Hannah burnt her mouth from eating fire. (She closed her mouth all the way around the metal rod. The rods get hot.) Nobody got anything serious. Except maybe a little traumatized when two dorks thought it would be funny to take off their clothes and go streaking in front of the bonfires. The ran and danced around for a bit and then took off into the woods. I happened to be standing next to one of the people in charge, who smirked and informed me that they had run straight toward a cop on a four-wheeler.

Life is funny.

Saturday, September 26, 2009


I'm sitting by the heater in the cabin. The heater says it's set to 80 and the room is 86. Consequently, it's blowing hot air on me. Isn't there something wrong with that?

Oh well. I don't mind for now. There's snow on the ground. Not much--maybe a half inch or so. But there's still snow.

It's been an interesting last few days. Two of my roommates came down with swine flu. I think I started to get it a few days ago, but I definitely don't seem to be sick now. Hopefully I fought it off without even hardly feeling the effects of it.

A friend of mine asked me to come fix his computer. It used to run Oregon Trail (the original 16-color version, with the black background and the typed commands), but after he reformatted, now it doesn't. I worked on it for a while, even went home to redownload the Applewin program for him, to no avail. When it didn't work, he shot me with his BB gun. At point blank range. In the neck. Jerk.

At juggling practice, I was practicing with a fire poi that had too short of a string and burned my hand pretty nice. It's a little infected and won't heal for a while, but it doesn't hurt too bad, and it looks kind of cool.

I got my six-page research paper about Shakespeare's history play Richard III done on time. Of course, I wrote it in the wee hours of the morning (I'm a college student--that's how I'm supposed to do it), so it came out a little weird. But so do most of my papers. I guess we'll see how much a sense of humor my professor has. I suspect he won't mark off too much for being silly, but he may mark off because I didn't use enough sources.

Yesterday, I had the most horrible nightmare! I dreamed I went back to the Resort because they were having a donut party. There were hundreds and hundreds of donuts of all kinds... except they didn't have my favorite kind with the whipped cream-ish filling. I went through all of them, and finally thought I had found one, except it ended up only having like a half a teaspoon of the filling in the entire inside of the donut, and I couldn't even taste it. Also, the donut itself tasted like sand. It was awful!!!

I bet that dream was sparked by the fact that I haven't had my favorite kind of donut in years, since Safeway stopped MAKING them!!! In fact, their selection's been crap lately. And by "lately," I mean for a really long time. It's depressing. I wish there were a Krispy Kreme in Fairbanks. Or even a Dunkin Donuts. But nooooo!

Last night, I dreamed I was at the Resort again, and Mom and Dad were working there and I was living in the barracks with them, only I wasn't allowed to work there. I drove down to the docks every day and worked there instead, driving people around in a little speedboat. So one day, I went in to see the housekeepers, and it was just Mom and Maggy cleaning a room, and then Housekeeper Mike walked in, and I started seeing red, I got so angry, just from his presence. I think I have residue anger issues over that. Then Dad gave me a big long angry lecture and sent me downtown and demanded I stay off Resort property until I could control my actions because I was behaving like a child. I was glad to wake up.

I need to go see a chiropractor. My back doesn't hurt, but I messed it up really bad several years ago and never got it fixed. I don't know if it's going to complicate things in the future or not. Basically, I was at a church activity where they were teaching self-defense. We were practicing throws, and the girl I was partnered up with was throwing me, so I decided to be obstinate and resist. She threw all her weight into it and finally flung me to the ground. Really hard. Only, she had her foot on the ground with her heel down and her toe pointing pretty far up because her muscles were all tensed. My spine went right over her toe. I couldn't even move for what felt like several minutes. It definitely took a while to get up. Now if you run your fingers down my spine, when you get a third of the way down, the disks get alarmingly close together, then a few start touching, and then suddenly, they get so far apart it almost feels like I'm missing one. And yet, it doesn't hurt. Weird.

So bottom line is, I don't even really have extra money, but I think I'm going to go see a chiropractor anyway. But first, I want to ask around and see if anyone knows a particularly good one, or even a particularly bad one to stay away from.

Hmm, what else? Oh yes, I also applied to get my editing job back. We have a new boss this year. I don't really know him that well. He seems much more stolid than Kortnie (last year's boss).

Juggling club is doing well. We have several regulars now. I'm a little frustrated that Casey's decided that since I commented once that I didn't really know what I was doing being president and he would probably be better at it than me, this means I was trying to say, "I want you to be president." So he said, "Okay, I'll be president," and now I'm having trouble making him let go of this idea. I want to be president because I need the experience of having a leadership role, and because when I first started coming here, I took it upon myself to rebuild this club. I'm finally starting to get somewhere, and I really don't want someone to say, "Well, I'm better at this than you, so I'll just take over now." I guess it's a pride thing. Also, the more I get to know him, the more I think maybe he wouldn't be all that good. Sure, he's charismatic. I want him to emcee at shows, definitely. But he's also a little self-centered--as in, he keeps claiming club stuff and saying, "this is mine; I'm keeping it," or "this should be for officer use only because it's nice." I need to learn to get up the guts to say, "No! Bad boy! Put it down!"

So there's my update. We're juggling fire at Starvation Gulch tonight. Wish us luck!

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Back to the lovely cold north :)

After a 21-hour trip, I'm really glad to be back in Fairbanks. My eight-hour layover in Seattle was all kinds of miserable. I did a little homework, finished reading one of the books I brought along, started the other book I brought, finished the other book I brought, juggled a little, did a little more homework, and ended up just falling asleep on one of the benches. A lady woke me up about an hour and a half later. "Excuse me, but are you on the flight to Fairbanks? It's boarding right now." I jumped to my feet faster than if someone were to stand in my bedroom doorway and shake a glass of ice water. I tried to thank her profusely, but she had disappeared and I didn't see her again. I don't know if she worked for the airline or was just another passenger, but she had disappeared completely. I guess I'll just tell myself she was a guardian angel.

I was welcomed back to Fairbanks by the first snow of the year. I'm thoroughly enjoying the cool weather up here, as opposed to the 90-degree, 100% humidity weather in Florida, where every time I stepped outside, my glasses would fog up. One of my Australian friends was complaining that it's not winter yet, so it's not allowed to be this cold. I refrained from telling her that it's probably going to get 80 degrees colder than this before it's really winter. She'll figure it out.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Family Pictures

Florida is an even hotter, buggier, humider place than I remembered it. No, seriously, breathing feels strangely like drowning. Every time I step outside, my glasses fog up. And the weather? Haha! This morning, my brother bought donuts and brought them to the parents' hotel room, which is in the next building over from the room the kids are all staying in. Maybe thirty seconds later, I showed up, soaked head to toe because it had been dumping rain. Nobody believed me because when Allen walked in, it was totally dry. We opened the curtain so I could prove it was pouring, and the sun was shining! At least the ground was as wet as I was, or they would REALLY think I'm crazy!

It's fun having all my siblings here. We spent hours this morning telling "Hey remember that time when..." stories (except ours were cool because they usually involved either something getting broken, someone getting hurt, someone getting away with something stupid, or someone making Dianna take the blame for something we did). We were all laughing so hard that Dad told us to stop being so loud many times.

We don't really get to spend all that much time with the grandparents because they apparently tire out easily, and it seems like it takes only two or three hours before we've "overstayed our welcome." It's nice to see them anyway, though, especially now that we're old enough to join in the conversations they have. It's a little alarming, though, to see Grandpa take four steps and start wheezing like he's just run a marathon. It makes me feel bad, because I want to help, but I don't think there's anything I can do.

Today was the only full day that we had the whole family together, so of course, Dad insisted on pictures (although everyone else did too, so for once we didn't mind). But the parents decided my ripped Carhartt's and t-shirt weren't appropriate for the occasion, and I pretty much refused to wear a skirt (sorry, family), so Mom dragged me to Old Navy and insisted I get some "decent" clothing, which meant basically something I didn't get to pick out. For the record, almost every article of clothing in Old Navy (at least in the women's section) was made of material so ridiculously thin that it seemed like it would fall apart if you washed it. The shirt I ended up getting was so thin you could literally see through it, so it was mandatory to wear another shirt underneath it. Now what's the point of wearing a shirt if you just have to wear another underneath? There is none!

I guess it looked pretty good, though, even if the sleeves were a little poofier than I would like, and the only shirt I could find thick enough to wear underneath it was so ridiculously tight that I had to keep the outer shirt buttoned or show off my boobs or lack thereof. I really like the way the pants look, though. Wish the pockets were a little bigger, but hey, I'm not perfect either.

I was really good, though, and didn't complain about having to dress up all day. We took many nice pictures with various arrangements of kids and grandparents, kids and parents, kids and kids, and... well, you get the idea.

We were really good and did what we were told and smiled pretty.

And then we took a few pictures that showed what we're all REALLY like.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009


It almost looked like this was going to be a perfect semester, but of course, the gods refuse to allow me to have a simple life. Family drama in almost all directions, the largest of which is going to have me take three days off of classes to go to Florida. Missing so much class isn't ideal, but at least I'll get to see family and learn more about my grandpa's astronomy ideas. He's a genius, and he has these amazing ideas and a fascinating way of looking at the world. I only ever saw him really light up and come to life one time, and that was when I got him talking about science.

This will be the first time in three and a half years, I think, that my whole family (mom, dad, brothers, and sister) will be in one place at the same time. At least, I'm hoping so. Apparently, my second brother may not be able to make it. We'll see. Knock on wood. It's really fun having all four of us kids together--it's more awesome than you would know what to do with.

The last two nights have been beautiful. We can see a zillion stars from our cabin, and the aurora has come out and danced across the sky. It was only green, no red or orange or anything, but beautiful nonetheless. I thought at first that it was a cloud, lit up by the moon or something, but while I watched, it swooped slowly across the sky, curling and flaring and dancing and fading and then lighting back up again in another part of the sky, blocking out a few twinkling stars that cheerfully slipped out of sight behind it, knowing their turn to shine would come back after the star of the show had finished its dance.

Hmmm, it feels weird trying to be poetic. I don't think I did a very good job. Oh well. Anyway, it was pretty. I've heard that if the aurora is intense enough and get well away from city sounds, you can hear the aurora sing. The natives used to say it was the spirits playing games or trying to talk to the living.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Dr Seuss

Casey has this book called "The Art of Living." Any time someone's annoyed or stressed or frustrated or sad, he pulls it out and makes them flip to a random page and read it. The funny thing is, most of the time, the page you flip to is immediately relevant to what you're upset about.

I was looking through some Dr. Seuss quotes. I love Dr. Seuss. Someday when I'm rich, I'm going to collect everything he's ever written. For now, I'm going to settle with compiling a few of his better quotes here.

“Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength.”

“I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!”

“Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.”

"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose."

"From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere."

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Slacking off, just like you said...

Playing Magic: the Gathering, I got my butt kicked twice in a row--and by "butt kicked," I mean I seriously got it handed to me. The first time, I couldn't do anything. I was playing an aggro deck against two control decks, and they prevented me from doing anything at all. The second time, I was playing the dragons deck, but I got one land in my first hand and then didn't get another within five turns, by which time the other two players realized I had the dragons deck, which is massively powerful... if you have land. So one of the players one-shotted me for 28 points (you start with 20). The third game was a Chaos game, where something random happens every turn. The decks were fairly evenly matched, and I was playing a deck that had a lot of cards that would give me life. I started out doing terribly, but by the end, I was totally whooping up. If Tony hadn't conceded, I probably would have had over a thousand health within four turns, and then stomped on him with forty or so 1/1 elves, all with a +2/+8 modifier.

I have high hopes for juggling club. My goal is to have ten active members by the end of the year and enough money for a pizza party. When I signed us up to juggle fire at Starvation Gulch, the lady in charge said they'll buy us some new fire gear. I'm pretty stoked!

Got a new shelf installed by my bed today. Now I have a place to put my glasses or the book I'm reading when I go to sleep without having to climb down from my bunk.

I'm getting to know every pothole in the road I live on. They're really deep potholes, and there are like eleventy billion of them. One reason I look forward to winter: the snow and ice will kind of fill them in.

Oh yeah, playing my "fantasyland make-believe game" Friday night was awesome too. The story was awesome, the characters were fun, except I didn't like mine as much. They wouldn't let me play my hyper pixie character. I tried playing one that was a little loose, but unfortunately, I couldn't pull it off. The first time I tried hitting on someone, I ended up hiding my face and saying, "Never mind, I can't do this!" She was a human swordmaster, and she was a kind of lame character. I couldn't figure out a good personality for her, for one thing, but for another, the dice hated me. It seemed like I didn't roll higher than five all night. Chad, on the other hand, managed to deal 42 damage in one blow with a crossbow bolt--at level one! He shot it straight through a river drake's neck, felling it in one blow! Tony's cat-character rolled a 33 dexterity check to dive-bomb 150 feet onto an air-ship to trigger an air grenade. My character, in contrast, jumped onto the ship later, when they were like twenty feet apart, fell on her face, got up, swung her broadsword, missed, took twelve points of damage, fell, got up, tried to stab with her sword, missed... well, slight exaggeration. She did take one guy down, somehow. But yeah. Anyway, it was cool. The best part was when she went in the bar to get drunk, and the male human in the group said he would come supervise, and the cat-man who she had befriended said he would come to protect her honor and to make sure the male didn't take advantage of her drunkenness. They chilled by the bar while my character got drunk. It cost three silver, and she had a hangover the next day, which meant a negative one step to my dice rolls until noon.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009


I'm sore all over from canoeing/kayaking for like six hours yesterday. It was unquestionably the awesomest Labor Day ever! We had a barbecue, played Epic Frisbee (the Ultimate Frisbee in canoes game) for hours, played Badminton, played more Epic Frisbee, and then, when everyone was too tired to even paddle calmly across the lake anymore, we went inside and role-played until eleven. It was way fun!

Today, my arms and legs and butt all ached, and sitting in class for nine hours was pretty close to torture. I successfully failed my first quiz of the semester, too. Yay. (By "failed," I'm talking like 20%. Stupid ADHD... I did the readings, twice! I just didn't assimilate them as well as I should have.) Didn't have time to eat during my lunch hour because I was doing club stuff. Turns out not only have I been given command of a club with only two members, but the club also has a few hundred dollars in debt. But I WILL get this club back on its feet!

I started falling asleep in my third class. After class ended, I approached the teacher and asked if he would mind if I got up halfway through the class period to stretch for a minute, and he said, "Actually, that's a wonderful idea! I'm going to start doing that in all my classes, having everyone get up and stretch! That's great!" So that should help. I was falling asleep for most of my Shakespeare class too, until I finally got up for a drink of water. But the water fountain was broken, so I went to the soda machine and got a Coke instead, which helped a lot.

But I was in kind of a bleh mood when I came home. I wanted to just go to sleep and not have to think about anything for a while, but Casey wouldn't let me because he said it would throw off my sleep schedule. So he grabbed two of his eight guns and took me out shooting instead. We used a 9mm carbine rifle and .40-caliber Smith & Wesson handgun. Before we had actually fired off a shot, I heard a rustling in the trees. Seeing my nervous look, Casey said, "It doesn't matter if we get charged by a moose or a bear, Cat. We have big guns."

"Oh yeah!" So I edged over to the trees and looked around for the source of the noise. It didn't take long to spot it. "Oh, it's just a squirrel," I said.

"Where?" Casey asked.

I pointed at it without thinking, and the next thing I knew, Casey had the rifle up, and BLAM!!! The squirrel was skittering all around the ground, and I thought, 'Geez! Glad he missed! Poor squirrel!' Then I realized it wasn't running away... it was flailing around! He'd hit it--sent the bullet right through its middle, and its stomach was protruding from its back! I forgot, Casey's an Alaskan boy. He doesn't miss. I just about cried, but at the same time, I was struck by this morbid fascination.

It was very soft. I made a bunch of bad jokes about chopping off its head and sending it to my sister just to freak her out. In fact, I chopped off its tail so I could cure it and put it on a keychain. I kind of feel like a monster.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Awesome weekend!

It's already been a freaking awesome weekend! Friday night, I went out to North Pole and played Earthdawn with my geeky role-playing friends. It was freaking awesome! The group is actually really cool, and has more fun coming up with weird ways to solve problems than trying to come up with a dramatic past for their emo half-elf characters. Plus, I play it with six guys, and they're all cute. Not necessarily all single, but so what? I can look!

So we played that until about two in the morning, and then on Saturday, I went out around six in the evening to practice canoeing. We were originally going to play Ultimate Frisbee again, but nobody showed up except, of course, Tony, because he lives there. I didn't mind, though, because it gave me a chance to get the hang of canoeing. So we did that for a few hours, and his wife and kids and dogs came out and paddled around, and then people started showing up to play Magic: the Gathering. It was pretty fun, though not as much as role-playing the night before. Toward the end of the last game (in which I got my butt kicked), my ADD started kicking in, and I started looking at some of the books that filled the room. (Tony has a bigger collection of fantasy and science fiction books than several book stores I've seen!) Tony pointed at one and said it was really good, so I started reading it and ended up with my nose stuck in the book. After the third game ended, Tony and I started talking books, and I ended up helping him alphabetize his books, which took until about five in the morning!

Then today, I woke up at eleven and brought Peter out to Cindy and Mike's to help get some hay for the horses. We were originally going to get 100 bundles, but they were all damp, so we only ended up getting 26. Then Mike grilled some pork and Cindy picked some fresh vegetables from the garden and cooked them up and it tasted AMAZING! Mike put in a movie called Ran, which is a Japanese movie based on King Lear, I guess. I thought it was a little meh, mainly because it's not quite my style movie. I prefer comedies, personally.

Oh yeah, and Peter gave me a really cool knife for the knife collection I'm going to start when I actually have money! :D

Friday, September 4, 2009


I hate the sun. But here I am, sitting outside in the bright, hot, miserable sunlight, simply because a) the breeze feels nice, and b) I should probably get at least a little sun this summer before it disappears for months. Be proud. I'm facing my fears. Except it's not really a fear so much as a loathing. A simmering hatred that burns like old Spaghettios, put on the stove to cook and then forgotten until the stench of burnt tomato sauce permeates through the building, bringing pained tears to the eyes of anyone unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity.

Yesterday, I was in my Alaska Native Languages class in the mining and engineering building--I have no idea why theywould schedule a linguistics course in a mining and engineering building, but whatever works--and my stomach started making weird noises. All through the class, it rumbled and whined and squeaked and made pretty much every other noise imaginable, which was rather embarrassing, particularly because the class only had about six students, so it was a small room and everyone kept smirking at me, but then remembering that they were too polite to just laugh it off so I could laugh too. I must remember never to eat at Taco Bell again.

Anyway, as soon as class ended, I wandered down the hall to find a restroom. For some reason, the architect who had designed the building had decided it would be a good idea to have the men's restroom in one corner of the building, and the women's in the other corner. (This was particularly surprising given that it was an engineering building, and I thought engineers were supposed to have a little more foresight than that. Doesn't having the bathrooms next to each other save a pretty good amount on piping and stuff when you build the building?) I eventually found the lady's room, which was blocked by a neat metal fire door which two stripes down the middle, like racing stripes. I'm not sure what purpose the stripes served, but I'm not really one to complain about something like that. I pushed the door open and walked in.

It was quite easily the most hideous and terrifying room I have ever been in. The room was trapezoidal, not quite rectangular. When you opened the door, which was somewhat narrow, you immediately found yourself facing a wall. The tiny passageway to the left narrowed distressingly, to the point where I could see it terrifying someone who was claustrophobic. The room was somewhat dim, but the worst part was the color. The stalls were the most horrendous shade of pink I had ever seen. It was like a pink that thought it might have dreams of being orange, but it couldn't quite figure out how to go about it, and it strained so hard that it vomited all over itself. The floor was a white and gray and pink tile pattern, with tiles maybe a half inch wide. The pink tiles came up just often enough to make it look like the floor was spattered with blood. Seriously, if someone were to design a torture chamber, one designed like this bathroom would be considerably more terrifying than a dark stone dungeon with sharp bloody objects all over the room and one or two ominously flickering torches bracketed to the wall.

I can't decide why someone would intentionally design a bathroom like that. The thought crossed my mind that maybe they just wanted to make sure people wouldn't try to cut class by hiding in the bathroom. But then I remembered that this is a university, not a middle school. If someone wanted to cut class, they would just leave. You don't HAVE to go to class. You just have to accept the consequences, which is usually just a worse grade in a class you paid several hundred dollars to take. The teachers aren't going to track you down, drag you to class, or send you to the principal, so seriously, what would be the point of cutting class by hiding in the bathroom? No, that can't be it. Maybe the room was originally used as a torture chamber by particularly sadistic teachers such as my public speaking teacher from last fall. I banished that idea from my mind too, simply because it wasn't a comforting thought to think while I was using it. I finally settled on the idea that maybe the architect was either a sadist or a masochist and simply wanted to terrify people. Thoughts?

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Fun times!!! :D

School hasn't even started yet and I've got homework! But if I do this homework, then there's a possibility that I have a couple fewer classes to take before I graduate, which means a) easier semesters, and b) time in which I could potentially get another job and earn a little money. Homework worth doing, huh?

So I was sitting in the living room looking stuff up and making charts and comparing classes I took at BYU with classes they offer here and so on and so forth, when Casey walked in and said, "Hey, I'm going to go play ultimate frisbee in canoes. Want to come?"

And would you believe, my first instinct was to say thanks, but no. I was in the middle of something and feeling a little lazy. But then I thought, 'You know what, Lint Monkey? If you don't do this, you're going to kick yourself later. Get off your lazy butt and go do something cool!' So I got off my lazy butt and went over to the house of a guy named Tony to play Ultimate Frisbee... in canoes! Only there were three kayaks too. I stuck with canoes, because those are what I'm familiar with. Actually, that's a lie. I wanted to try a kayak, but everybody loves the kayaks because they're faster and more maneuverable, which is a HUGE advantage, so they got taken really darn quick. I was one of the last ones in the water because Eric had a son and daughter about Kamryn and Noah's ages, and they decided I was their best friend as soon as they figured out I was a girl. Seriously, the little girl's first words were, "Oh, she's a girl!" and then she came up to me, tugged on my fingers, and said, "Hey, um, excuse me... um, do you want to come see my room?"

There were nine people there, and our team had five people, but we lost, partly because I was a hindrance to both sides. It took me a while to remember how to canoe, since I haven't been in one since I was about fifteen years old. I eventually more or less remembered, but was still out of practice. And I'm downright awful at Frisbee to begin with. After the first few points, in which I mostly stayed back and played "defense," which consisted mostly of practicing canoeing in circles, they decided to make sure I got to join in and had me throw the kick-off. My first throw landed maybe ten yards away. My second throw was a little better--closer to fifteen yards. I did have a proud moment, where I blocked a guy's canoe and kept him at bay for the whole round and refused to let him past me. But this guy on my team, Gerrit (Gerritt? Garret? Garrit? Garrote? I don't know how he spells it!), poor guy, every time I turned around, it seemed I accidentally blocked him. He was in a kayak, and one time, I accidentally rammed into him head-on, and the point of my canoe dug straight into his collarbone. I was seriously scared I had killed him for a second! I'm pretty sure it didn't feel any good at all!

The best part was when I was racing Tony, who was by far the fastest, strongest, and best at the game, to get the Frisbee, but he got there just ahead of me, so I reached out with my paddle as far as I could to pull the Frisbee in to me while he was still paddling... but I overbalanced and the canoe toppled over. It was great fun! I got so disoriented, though. When I first surfaced, I had no idea what was happening. I thought for a second I had surfaced under the canoe and wasn't sure if there was air, or if it was safe to breathe, or which direction I was facing, or what. There was water in my eyes, and I couldn't wipe it out because I was wearing glasses and anyway, I needed my hands to swim. But in retrospect, I probably didn't really. I was wearing a life jacket and no shoes to drag me down. But yeah, it was awesome! Out of the nine people there, FOUR of us fell in before we stopped playing at sunset. We lost, but we had so much fun it didn't matter!

So as we headed out, I was thanking them for the game and saying I'd had a lot of fun, congratulating people on some of the smooth moves and such, and I asked how often they play. "Well, this is probably our last game of the year unless the weather's nice next week. But we're always doing stuff here! I don't know why I can't people to show up," Tony said.

"Yeah, it's hard motivating people in Alaska to do stuff, it seems like," I said. "What sort of stuff do you do?"

"Well, every Saturday we play Magic: the Gathering," he said. "Do you play that?"

"I did, a loooong time ago."

"And then on Fridays, we do role-playing, with--"


So we went inside, and dried off and changed into clean clothes (I was SO glad Casey had told me to bring a change of clothes just in case I fell in!), and he showed me his gaming room, which is basically the greatest room I've ever been in!!! Fantasy and role-playing books all over the place, computers, fridges full of soda and junk food for role-playing nights, anime posters and wall hangings... I pointed to a Ranma wall hanging and said, "Oh hey, I love Ranma! One of the best animes ever!" and the guy brought out a silk Ranma outfit and wig and said, "Here's your Halloween costume! We've decided for you!"

It was SO COOL!!!

So yeah, I already have my Halloween costume (I put on the wig and Casey said, "Wow, Cat, you actually look like a REAL girl!"), and I'm going to start role-playing on Friday nights, and this year looks like it's going to be a blast!!!

Casey and Dylan (the two of my roommates that I've met so far) both play WoW, so we all started some troll characters and were totally geeking it up last night. They have a massive surround sound system in the living room, and every gaming system I can name. Dylan hooked his laptop up to the big TV to play, and afterward, we watched a bunch of funny youtube videos.

I dropped by to see my professor, Cindy Hardy, today. She gave me a big hug and told the person she was on the phone with that she had to go because one of her "favorite students" had dropped by. Hehe. I walked with her up to Burns Cooper's office (he's head of the English department), and talked with him for a little while, and as I left, I called him by his first name like Cindy does, then corrected myself, "Sorry, I mean Dr. Cooper," and he shrugged and grinned and said, "Eh, call me Burns." Mwaha! I got away with informality! I like Dr. Cooper. He taught one of my classes last semester. He's really smart, and is one of those professors that will actually admit when he doesn't know something, and then he'll go look it up and tell you the answer in the next class. He went off on tangents a lot, too, and my friend Jeremy and I used to have contests to see who could get him off on the longest tangent.

So yeah. That's that. And I should get to sleep here pretty soon, because I have classes from 9:45 tomorrow morning until 9:00 tomorrow night, except for an hour lunch break and then an hour and a half dinner break. And I'm really tired from canoeing.