Alaska- on the ground (7)

The plane left Seattle just a little late, but the pilots were motivated to get to their destination:

“Thank you for choosing Alaskan Airlines. Skies are clear, and we do anticipate an early arrival in Anchorage today, landing at 2:15 am. Remember, there is an hour difference. Enjoy your flight!”

Good news, because the big worry so far was that the rental car desk closed at 2:30 am and accoring to the schedule we landed at 2:30 am. But we might get there early!

When the plane taxied in, I woke up from a nice nap (thank you Tylenol PM). Chris prepared to sprint through the airport to secure our vehicle.

We disembarked, and Chris said over his shoulder “Meet me at the car rental counter!” as he sped off.

I followed him at a slower pace. I passed a Mooselaneous store (gag), and the other usual vending establishments. Halfway out, I found a site of interest.

Now Chris had always been most concerned with the car, but my priority had always been getting a place to sleep. Our original plan of toughing it out for the first night had seemed like a bad idea.

In front of me, past the TSA security checkpoint, was a very smart business idea. They were selling little room with attached bathrooms to catch a couple hours of sleep. They charged by the hour–buy three hours, get the fourth free.

This was the perfect solution to our problem! just a couple hours to rest. That was all we needed. Chris didn’t want to pay for a full hotel room when we could only be there a couple hours! But this was a reasonable price. We could do this! They even had a room for two.

Except. Chris was already past security. We couldn’t do it, because he had run ahead to get the car.

Maybe we didn’t need to rest. I was feeling pretty good. I’d had a nice rest on the plane. Maybe it would be okay.

Alaska- side comment (6)

Look up there. Do you see the title? it says (6).

and it starts with “Alaska-”

And yet I have not talked about my trip yet. in (5) I left us not even in SEATTLE let alone on Alaskan soil.

kind of a long drawn-out build up, huh? Well, I did tell you I was anxious to go. I’d like to pause for a moment to talk about my life NOW.

There is me with my fabulous husband:

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There is my cozy home:

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My venerable and loving cat:

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He’s thinking loving thoughts right there. You have to know him.

And my devoted dog:

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Food proximity increases devotion.

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Everyone knows that.

But these are the things I have now. Alaska was where I grew up. It is not where I am now.

And because I am not there, I can go back. The story will get there soon.

Alaska – Flying (5)

It was kind of nice, leaving so late in the day. We had all day to finalize packing, etc. The plants were well watered and we changed the bed and everything so it would be nice to come home to.

We went to the store to buy food for the plane, because they don’t feed you anymore. We had books, and I charged up the iPod with some Chris music in case he needed some tunes.

It was HELLISHLY hot, of course, which left us with a problem. We wanted to wear minimal clothing where we were, but where we were going required long pants and sweaters.

So we changed at the last minute before leaving. Chris’s mom took us to the airport, very nice of her.

Things I forgot, and remembered almost immediately:

*my water bottle
*my iPod
*my current book

Too late! I would have to buy some water at the airport and my pod would get the charging of its life. I always have multiple books, so I was covered for reading material.

I was weak as a noodle in my long pants and hundred-degree weather. But the plane let us on quickly enough. CROWDED.

Warning: Alaska airlines does not have SkyMall. I was kind of looking forward to the showcase of absurd gadgetry. But no.

Chris sat by the window and deciphered all the freeways for me. I was still noodlish, and could only pay attention for short periods. He was rapt.

I sat back and snoozed til we landed in Seattle.

Alaska trip- Before it starts (4)

You know how Marty McFly in can’t stand to be called Chicken?

Nobody tells me I can’t do something.

We could go. I’d find a way to get myself together. I got better shoes. I learned to eat more protein.

“We’ll just have to take it slow. This will not be a trip where we go hiking. And maybe, you could go out without me if I need to rest in the hotel room. We’ll do it, baby!”

We packed carefully, so that we wouldn’t have to carry much.

I was just a little worried about not being able to sleep that first night.

But we had a layover in Seattle. Seattle has very good coffee. Woo Hoo!

Alaska trip- Before it starts (3)

Man makes plans, and God laughs.

I was pregnant. It wasn’t exactly a surprise. We meant to do it, and had talked and planned for a long time.

When we were talking and planning, I thought being pregnant would mean I’d slowly get larger and then be sorta clumsy and slow. Maybe during the first bit, I might be morning sick.

When I acutally was pregnant, at first it meant my feet hurt—like the many little bones in my feet might pop out of their perfect jigsaw puzzle fit with each other and I’d have to limp and say ‘ow! Ow!’ to move to where I needed to go.

And then it meant I was RAVENOUSLY hungry. Like, I had to eat, and I couldn’t eat fast enough. When I finished eating something, enough to make my stomach extremely full, I would feel a drop of strength that left me so weak I had to lean my whole body against the nearest wall. My head would loll against the wall and I’d shut my eyes to let them roll back. It took too much energy to see things, and the only solution I knew was to get food in my body now—NOW—so I could stay upright and conscious.

Soon the hungry turned into just tired. That lean-against-the-wall, the air-is-as-thick-as-cake-batter-can’t-move-through-it sort of tired.

But we had an adventure planned!

Chris said “Maybe we should cancel our trip.”

Alaska trip–before it begins (2)

We had the frequent flyer miles and I was set to go over the summer solstice. THAT was the auspious time to go. One thing I remember fondly in the lack of night in the summer. Days that stretched into each other with no night.

The frequentl flyer staff were pretty good. They gave us a long layover—practically two days!—in Juneau. I liked that idea! I didn’t know Juneau at all, so that would be a new thing for me too. The downside was, the flights were very redeye. But hey, we adventurous travelers. We could handle that.

We landed in Anchorage at 2 am. And then they changed the flights, and it was 2:30 am.

“Don’t worry!” I told Chris. “It will not be dark.”

His logistical nature was kicking in, thought. Would the car rental place be open at 2:30? And if we were landing at 2:30, it would not be worth our money to get a hotel for that night. We’d just have to rough it through until we could check in for the next night.

Same thing on the return trip from Juneau. We left at practically midnight.

His verdict: “I guess we’ll save money on not having a hotel room for the first and the last nights.”

Alaska trip – before we start

So, here’s the thing. Of course Chris knew that I was from Alaska. He’d known it from the start, and I’d known that he was into hiking around nature from the start. We were going to go to Alaska, Denali especially, eventually.

Chris was the one to plan the vacations, though. He picked great places, and he was so good at it.

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Really, he always thought of everything, making the vacation from start to finish a complete escape even if were only for a weekend. My trips and getaways with him accumulated and I had got to wondering what it might be like to see Alaska with him.

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But I still was not ready to go. I was not anxious to go. As a matter of fact, I was anxious TO go. But maybe with Chris it would be okay. Maybe we could plan it into a good adventure.

We went on lots of adventures and then seemed only to get better and better.

bristlecone twins

When he was planning the next one, sometimes I would bring up Alaska as a possible choise. He always had a different spot in mind. It finally occurred to me that _I_ would have to plan the trip to Alaska.

With 10 years and my husband between me and the last time I stood on Alaskan soild, I figured I coulud do it. We had some frequent flyer miles, and it was time to show Chris I wasn’t making it up. All that stuff about Anchorage and Wasilla and the woods and the water.

Plus, Chris loved national Parks. And Denali was the big one. That was worth seeing. Right?

Odd-jectives

A couple weeks ago, I had a bad start to the week. Nothing disastrous, I just hadn’t wanted to get out of bed.

I spoke to the people I encountered at work, responding to the inevitable question ‘How are you doing?”:

“Ugh. This monday is steep.”

A metaphor, perhaps. Steep, meaning hard to climb. It was a monday that was hard to get through.

Not too long after, a friday appeared. It was at the end of a long week. Someone said, again “How are you doing?”

“This has been a long week. It has only one foot, and it’s in its stomach.”

Alright, that was was a bit of a riddle.

Here’s the thing, no one understood the “steep” for what I meant…They all said “Steep? What?”

The statement about the week having one foot in its stomach sent the poor recipient into a complete tailspin. I even TOLD him I meant a snail, but he was still listening to his own voice wondering what it could possibily mean and he didn’t hear me. I told him about three times before he got it.

“A gastropod! A snail has only one foot and that foot is in it’s stomach! I am only saying the week is going by slowly!”

“A foot in it’s stomach…Do you mean that someone kicked you in the stomach?’

“no…a snail…”

(repeat)

I believe I have a gift for describing things in unusual ways. I like describing things in unexpected ways.

An adjective is fine, but I want to find an odd-jective to do the job.

Need a new drug…er…book

I’ve recently finished “Childhood’s End” by Arthur C. Clark. A friend recommended it. Usually, we have the same taste in books, but this one sort of unnerved me. Maybe it’s because I am not so into Sci Fi anymore.

And now I’m reading “Never Let Me Go” by Ishiguro. I didn’t know it was another piece of sci fi!

Sigh

Fingers drumming.

The book is annoyingly well-written such that I don’t want to give it up. I’ve got less than 50 pages to go, so I will finish it tonight if it kills me. But, I dislike the premise of the book. The story is, all the people in the book are clones that were created as infants, and then raised up to adulthood in order to have their organs harvested.

Horrifying.

But they add this interesting twist to raise the question of the status of the clones souls. Do they have them? So far, the people seem just as ordinary as anyone else, except for their absurd willingness to allow their organs to be harvested..

It’s creepy. And I don’t believe it. What society would allow children to be raised to adulthood for the purpose of slowly killing them by taking an organ at a time? Let’s be real, the first thing that a society that would do that sort of inhumane things would do to clones is turn them into a prostitution ring. That’s what my co-workers thought of immediately, anyway, and then began to plan how a netflix type situation of “releases” off their favorite models would be arranged for their convenience.

Almost as creepy as the book, that. Sometime the male-dominated workplace has its trials.

Anyway, the book is annoying me. And two books in a row that annoy me…It’s hard to take.

I haven’t found a new thread…I mean, a new author to read through or a new genre..I don’t know. I can’t find a good set of books to get me through.

I’m about ready to go back to Victorian times. Some Henry James would set me up for a long visit in the book-world. And I can TRUST a man like James not to creep me out about the existence of clones.

But I can also trust him to take FOREVER to finish. I loved the victorian long form of novel when I was a teenager. I had all the time in the world then. Austen? Dickens? No problem, what else was I doing with my time? Although I will admit, I got put off Dickens after finishing “Little Dorrit.” Lord in heaven, THAT was a chore to finish. I guess Dickens had his crank-’em-out-you’re-on-a-deadline works, too.

A good chewy, but not too chewy book, that’s what I need. I’d like to find an author that’s still alive that I enjoy.

I already finished all of Amy Tan. She would be perfect. But “saving fishes from drowning” was a deadline kind of book. I’m sure she has more hooks in her, but she needs some time off to find them. Take it slow, Amy. Let it come when it’s ready.

Haruki Murakami, MOST excellent. But I finished all of his a while back.

Gregory Maguire was fun, with “Wicked” and all the other fairy tales re-explored. But finished those too.

Philip Roth is okay. But he’s an on-again-off-again kind of writer. Also influenced by the publishers deadlines. I’ve read a lot of his, but…Well..many of them are regrettable losses of time.

John Irving is pretty good, as well as still alive. But I started in on “The world according to Garp” and got as far as the part where the kid gets his eye put out through an accident that happened because his parents were separately cheating on each other. I simply could not forgive the author for that act of violence on an innocent child. It was maybe a third of the way into the book, and I was willing to let the characters convince me of their worthiness. But once the kid got hurt, I had to take a stand. NO! The author had to right to take time to unwind the story, but that violence was a cheap shop. I couldn’t do it.

I could give some of his other books a try though. Maybe.

John Updike is still alive. But he is so…so…Baby boomer. I should read the Rabbit series. But it’s probably very navel gazing and existentially angsty.

Is it too much to ask that a story act like people have a chance of influencing the course of their life through the choices they consciouly make?

Is it?

Okay, yes, we are at the mercy of larger societal forces, and acts of God such as the weather. But can we have a protagonist that remembers to pack an umbrella and a little honest ambition, and therefore gets a little bit of a foothold while managing to NOT die of consumption?

Maybe I should respond to the subtle urgings of my 7 year old friend and read Harry Potter. I am not certain, but I have an inkling that maybe children’s books have a possible edge of optimism left in them

Sucking post-modernist world view. What’s the post post modern thing already? Can’t we move on?

Alright. Before I get totally bitter, I’ll head for the children’s section. A few flights of fancy would do me some good.

Words that break your bones

A friend told me he’d just been on a rant inspired by his daughter, age 13.

“I can’t think of any worse insult than to be told I’m stupid. Calling someone stupid is just about the worst thing. Don’t you think?”

So, I had to think about it. Being called, truthfully, stupid is pretty bad. I would hate to be stupid.

But the thing about insults, is they so often have little to do with truth.

It reminded me of a book, The Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man by James Weldon Johnson. He was a light-skinned black man, and it turned out he could pass as white if he wanted to. The book explored what it meant to be identified as one thing or the other.

It would be what he was called that made the difference.

What became the turning point was when he saw a man called out in the South, called out as ‘Ni***r’. He was then lynched, hung from a tree for no other cause.

The narrator of the book refused to be called black after that. Or, in the word of the day, “coloured”.

I can understand why my friend was not considering those sorts of insults. He was a strong, empowered white man in a society where white men are empowered. It would be an occasion VERY far out on the bell curve to be insulted in a way that would cause him harm or death.

But I know, that there are certain words, certain insults, that mean I am in physical danger. As a woman, if someone called me a “b***h” or a “c**t” in certain contexts, it would be as if they were flashing a permit allowing them to hurt me.

“Because I am this, and you are that, I may now rape, hit or even kill you. It’s part of the way of the world.”

I am not going to say I’m agonized over this fact. I just know that, if I hear certain words in certain settings, I better find a very quick and obsequious way to get OUT of there.

I fear those insults worse than being called stupid