The Mountains and the Parking Lots

This is a picture of the mountains from my favorite strip mall. See how much I've grown? I have a favorite strip mall. Somewhere I go on purpose. A strip mall I frequent. Do I wish the stores were against the street and not hiding in a parking lot? Absa-fuckin-lutely. But the point here is my growth. Can you see it? This strip mall has: Title Wave Books (hands down the best bookstore in town. It's independent, too.), Kaladi Bros. Coffee Shop (which sells great tea in a real coffee shop setting), REI, Middleway Cafe, and some other less interesting stuff.

The Real Reason I wanted to show you this picture, though, was because the mountains are great and clouds are magnificent. But it feels like I can't even see them because I am blinded by the sea of cars and lightpoles. And that McDonald's sign. Can you see it? Greg once told me it was the highest grossing McDonald's in the country. It has two drive thrus and everything. It's quite impressive, really. But this is what Anchorage has to offer. Stunning scenery that I can't concentrate on.

I was trying here. I really was. I had a great time browsing the bookstore and working in the coffee shop. And then I walk outside and sigh. I wish, I wish, I wish.

Alaska's Favorite Mall

There are several questions/issues I have with this sign.

1) Was it only Anchorage's favorite mall, but it recently overtook the title of Alaska's favorite mall?

2) How do they determine whether the Dimond Center is Anchorage's favorite mall, let alone Alaska's. Is it based on sales, a poll, or is this all a fancy advertising gimmick?

3) You'll note that Dimond is spelled wrong. It's spelled wrong everywhere. Dimond Blvd, Dimond High School, etc. I can only hope this was someone's last name and that it wasn't supposed to be diamond. This has bothered me since the first time I was in Anchorage, although clearly not enough to do any historical research.

On a side note, if I had to pick a mall (and in Anchorage you kinda do have to) I would definitely pick 5th Avenue Mall. I am a downtown kinda gal, I guess.

The Hawthorne Bridge

I have a friend who is writing this book about how her identity is wrapped up in her city. She has chapters on volcanos, strip clubs, and several other things that makes Portland tick. I have always loved this idea, but I didn't fully understand what she was getting at until this last trip to Portland.

I was walking from my mom's condo in downtown to brunch at a friend's house in Southeast. I was sublimely content for I was walking to see my friends, it was a beautiful day, and I was stealing some time to myself. As I stepped onto the Hawthorne Bridge I stopped and looked around me - at the bridge I was standing on, the bridges down the river, the skyline of downtown and SE - and I felt the warmth of the morning summer sun and realized for the first time that this city is a reflection of me. It is not just that I like it, or that it is my home, but that this city encompasses the girl I used to be and the woman I will become.

If someone were to ask me to explain who I am at the core, all I really need to say is "go stand halfway across the Hawthorne bridge and look, listen, and feel what is around you. That is who I am. What I feel and think." Timing makes no difference - sun, rain, day, or night are only reflections of my emotions and personality. Each gust of wind that meets the bridge meets me as well.

They (who's they? In this case, I'm not sure) say that when you get married your partner is a reflection of who you are. And while I don't believe you have to married to have this be the case, I do think it is true. The best parts of me are reflected in Greg and he makes me a better person. But there is something else too, something about that spot on the bridge that urges me to be a better person and to explore my life and world. I feel free there in the same way that loving Greg makes me feel. Like the support of the love I give and recieve will carry me to be the person I strive to be. This city in this tiny part of the world allows me to be who I am and continually pushes me to develop.

Can I be the best version of myself somewhere else, even Anchorage? I have to believe I can. But it is a struggle, just like it was a struggle to be away from Greg for all those months. As I walked across the bridge there was no struggle, only a gentle breeze pushing me toward fulfillment.

Some Good 'Ol Alaskan Politics

Well, the big news up here regards the primary elections in the gubernatorial race. There are several things of note I thought I'd share with you.
First, Tony Knowles won the democratic seat, which is no big surprise as he was the two term governor before the current administration.
Second, Sarah Palin kicked Frank Murkowski's ass in the republican race. This is a HUGE deal because Frank was a US Senator for 27 years before he breezed into the Governor's chair. But then he made some mistakes, like appointing his daughter to his senate seat and being an all-around arrogant poo-poo head (read Beth Brag's commentary to get a better understanding of Frank and what this all means ).
Finally, on election day one of Frank's campaign volunteers got shot. Seriously.
Ok, that is not exactly a fair statement. The good citizen got caught in the cross fire between two cousins fighting over their baby's mama. Check it out.
This last story is so good I can't come up with any witty remarks - so have at it in the comments.

Random Thoughts on a Rainy Day

- I am back in Anchorage and it is really pouring. Alaskan rain - not Portland rain

- I really love my friends in Portland. Where I fall a little short, they bring me up. (For example, Elizabeth helps me be cool while at the same time being geeky together, Taya reminds me what it means to be lovely and non-judgmental, Kate allows me to wear my heart on my sleeves and know I'll always be safe with her, Lisa shows me ambition, Todd and Jen blend the line between family and friends so there is no line, Jamey proves that friend's boyfriend really just means friend, Scott makes sophistication casual and accessible. I could go on and on and talk about Dan and Steve and Martha and others.)

- This is the first time I have had an hour to sit by myself and think in over two weeks. I like it. I like the Blues that are playing in the background with the sound of rain trinkling through during slow sections. I like the way the light is hitting the caramel colored walls of my living room. I like my two sweet angels (also called kittens) sleeping beside me. I like my fancy-pants MacBook I just bought. I like that Greg is coming home in 45 minutes. I like that today I think it will all be okay.

- I am very appreciative of my sister-in-law, Megan, because she has really stepped up to the plate to help me keep from feeling too discouraged. For example, I have a list of tangible things I can do to help me each day. A lot of them are going to help me in career development, which an added bonus.

- My kittens seemed a bit indifferent to me the first night back home, but they are now all over me again. And the love of my kitties makes me Very Happy.

- I have yet to get things in order for my classes, which start in less than a week. Tomorrow morning. For sure.

Portland

I am in Portland.

I love it. I love it. I love it. I love it. I really, really love it.

Here are some things about Portland that I found in Willamette Week's new Finder that may contribute to why I like it so very much:

Number of bridges in Portland: 10

Multnomah County's rank among US counties for percentage of same-sex couples: 13

Number of books on Powell's downtown bookshelves: 750,000

Portland's rank among cities for number of coffee shops: 3

Percentage of TriMet riders who choose public transportation over driving: 77

Rank of Portland as breast-feeding friendly city: 1

Based on poll of Starbucks outlets in Portland the estimated percentage of local Starbucks baristas with a bachelor degree or higher: 23

Gallons of beer that the 45 brewer-members of the Oregon Brewers Guild produced in 2005: 20.77 million

Portland is one of the most solidly liberal places in the country: 70% voted for John Kerry. WW projects that the sharpest divisions lie between mainstream Subaru liberals and the hard-core eco-anarchists.

the Urban Growth boundary

The Urban Iditarod where 5 dressed-up humans pull a shopping carts full of booze making stops at bars and restaurants.

Bicycle magazine named Portland the #1 overall biking city in the country

Southeast = the eclectic side of town (i.e. wacky, hippy-and-hipster infused).

There is plenty more to come...

George Made a Friend

My husband, George*, has always been very popular. He's the kind of guy that makes friends everywhere he goes and has a million "best friends." I think this is because he appreciates people for who they are without expectations and is an all-around good time guy.

I, meanwhile, get little crushes on people and will come home to George and in Swinger-esque fashion say, "[insert name here] is soooo cool. She is way too cool for me. She'd never be friends with me. Do you think I'm cool enough to be her friend? Wow. I hope she calls me soon. Should I call? No, I'll wait. Should I wait?"

George was at work today and someone who may or may not be his supervisor said, "you know, I only really have three friends here." (I interrupted George while he was telling me this story and asked him how long this bloke has lived here. George said "19 years." !!!) The man who may or may not be George's supervisor then said, "all of my three friends are out of town this weekend, so I think I might call you. Do you play tennis?" George beamed at me and said "I think [insert name here] asked to be my friend! I think I'll say yes."

Isn't that cute? I wonder if the man who may or may not be George's supervisor talked to his wife last night and asked her whether or not he was cool enough to be George's friend.

* name has been changed to comply with request to not embarrass those in the story

No Gary No!

There are few things I love more than male cheerleaders, an exotic accent, and an anti-smoking campaign. Check it out: http://www.darlugo.com/?id=546&hp=1

Anchored Down in Anchorage

My friend Elizabeth's very cool friend Aaron sent me the song "Anchorage" by Michelle Shocked. I really like it and you can preview it here: http://www.mp3.com/albums/14462/summary.html or e-mail me and I can send you somethin'.

Am I stupid?

Saw this truck in Anchorage. The driver looks like your average Alaskan anarchist. Perhaps I am dense, but I don't know what megido is. Can anyone help me?

I am embarrased to admit it, but...

I was hanging out with my friend, Jillian, and her boyfriend, Steve, last night. Steve was a swimmer in college and has agreed to take Jillian and I to the pool to help us learn how to lap swim properly. In order to participate in this outing I had to admit something that some of you may know but I am totally embarrassed about: I plug my nose when I go under water.

I used to be able to under water plug free; when I was a kid I went all the way through freestyle in swimming lessons. Something that I'm not sure is relevant is that I have always disliked having my face wet (as does my niece, Isabel). Anyway, when I was in 6th grade, I was swimming with some junior high girls who were Very Cool - crazy cool, actually. Whenever they jumped into the water, they plugged their noses. So I did too.

I kept this nose plugging bit up until high school when I finally realized that plugging your nose was NOT cool. So I decided to stop. And I jumped into the pool. Water rocketed up my nose and caused a lot of pain, discomfort, a little confusion, and eventually, fear. Would I always be the silly little girl who plugs her nose? A nose plugger isn't hip and cool. A nose plugger is still tormented by succumbing to pre-teen peer pressure.

I couldn't help but share this with Greg when we were in Australia and in the ocean everyday. He promised to help me. We stood waist deep in the ocean on numerous days and practiced blowing out my nose and I dove under the wave. Sometimes I could do it. Mostly I couldn't. Quite frequently I would blow out of my mouth rather than my nose. Our little breathing lesson wouldn't last very long and I would walk out of the ocean with a nose-ache, headache, and feeling of defeat.

About a week ago I was taking a shower and Greg was getting dressed in the adjacent bedroom when he hollered the inquiry as to whether I was washing my face. When I asked him how he knew he said he could hear my nose. I previously mentioned that I don't like to get my face wet, so in order to limit the amount of water on my face, I make a puddle in my hand and splash it on my face. And apparently, blow out through my nose forcefully and loudly to prevent getting water up it.

I shared all of this with Jillian and Steve, to which Steve replied, "you don't really need to blow out, just equalize." And, thank God, Jillian joined me in a blink-blink-blink response.

They say sharing something that weighs heavy on your being is a form of libertation. I'll keep you posted.

Proof of Whittier Weather

Tour of Southcentral

I had a nice little day yesterday in what ended up as a tour of Southcentral Ak. First stop was Wasilla/Palmer, "suburbs" of Anchorage that are about 45 minutes north of Anchorage, and then ended the day in Whittier, an isolated oceanside community a little over an hour south.

Now, I feel an obligation to say that I was a little prejudiced against my morning destination of The Valley (as it is called here because Palmer and Wasilla sit in the Matanuska-Susitna Valley that comes complete with big rivers and glaciers). This is because the Parks Highway, which connects Anchorage and Fairbanks, drives through Wasilla. Alongside the road in Wasilla is a mile or so of strip malls. In Oregon it is common for strip malls, fast food, or gas stations to litter the side of the freeway (note: freeway in OR; highway in AK), so I asked Greg a few years ago to drive through the city center. I just assumed that all small towns have a city center tucked away, even if they are not used often. Not here. Wasilla's center is the Parks Highway and the strip malls alongside the Parks. Well, this did not sit well with me. I was done with Wasilla. But I figured maybe Palmer was better...
Last summer Greg and I went to the Alaska State Fair - careful, don't blink! - which was supposedly in Palmer, but honest-to-goodness I couldn't find Palmer. I'm not just being cute. I asked Greg where we were as the train pulled away from the fair depot. He replied, "Palmer" to which I said, "I know, but where is downtown Palmer?" He pointed to the right and said, "right there." I saw, oh, maybe three or four buildings. "Really?" I said "That's it?" Greg looked at me like I was being difficult, but I wasn't. I was genuinely confused because all I had been hearing was how Palmer was growing and complaints that it is too populated and not like living in the country anymore. "Yep. It's cute, actually." I squinted but still felt I was missing something. [Let the record show that I now have glasses, so perhaps I just couldn't see very well.] The overriding point I am trying (perhaps unsuccessfully) to make is that after that I was done with Palmer, and that meant I was done with The Valley.

Fast forward to yesterday. I drove to Wasilla to Greg's uncle Chuck's house to visit with Greg's cousin Aaron, who doesn't drink coffee, only tea and is visiting from Chicago. I had a delightful time as he is utterly charming and would be my best friend in two seconds if he still lived here. But, he's not interested in moving back and leaves on a big plane tonight. sigh.

As I said, Chuck's house is in Wasilla, my opinion of which remains unchanged. But, Aaron and I drove to Palmer to have a cup of tea. We went into a charming coffee shop that I wish I would have taken a picture of. It was nothing special, really, but it had gold walls (not white!), was bustling with people sitting and talking over coffee, and they served good tea. We had a nice talk and I felt happy. On the way out the door we took a photo of a t-shirt that read "The DaVinci Cod" which is the top selling t-shirt of the summer. Check it out in Flickr on the right.

As we were driving from the coffee shop to Chuck's office a short distance away I peeked down the street. This is when I changed my opinion of Palmer. The main street of Palmer has slightly more buildings than I spotted last summer. It is kinda cute, actually - what I picture small town's central business district to look like. Unfortunately, most of the businesses in town are in strip malls on the road connecting Palmer and Wasilla, but that is really neither here nor there. What I am trying to say is that I kinda liked it in the thank-God-I-don't-live-here kinda way.

So, Chuck took Aaron and I out to lunch where we ran into - and I couldn't have made this up - Aaron's dentist growing up. You know, the one with the hook I mentioned in my inaugural post. I had Chuck take a photo of me with him in the background, but the chair was in the way so the photo didn't work and he refused to take another one because it was a small town and he was a friend, etc., which I totally respect.

I drove back into town and got to our house just as Greg got off work and we drove to his aunt's house where we met up with his aunt and grandparents. We all piled into the car to head to Whittier to have dinner with Greg's little bro, Tom, who is working on the Kenticott, a boat in the Alaska Marine Ferry System (or whatever it's called), and was docked in Whittier for the night. Now, Whittier may be the only place in Alaska that I like more than Greg does. He calls it the armpit of Alaska, a title which I think should be applied to Delta Junction, and calls those who live there Whittidiots. I, on the other hand, am kinda smitten with it. It it teeny-tiny, itty-bitty. There is a one lane tunnel that takes you three and a half miles through a mountain, but you can only come in or out once an hour. 95% of the city's population lives in Baggage Tower, a building built in WWII to house soldiers that now acts as condos, apartments, and the hotel. I am not sure where the other 5% live because I don't think I've seen any houses. Greg feels indifferent to negatively about the town because he has to work there quite frequently on the train and Whittier has weather. I'm talking WEATHER. It is in a bay, but it is shaped in such a way to funnel all the wind and rain from the ocean. It is also completely surrounded by mountains. These two facts explain why everyone lives in Baggage Tower - there's no land to build on. Look at an aerial view of the town on this website http://www.ci.whittier.ak.us/about.html or a local webcam at http://whittierak.yukontel.com/ .

Back to the story: The closer we traveled along the Seward Highway, the worse the weather got. We waited for the tunnel to open in our direction at a small gift shop (photos to the right) where we overheard a local man walking in that said "this is September weather. I think I'll have to make a fire tonight" to which the woman working at the desk said "yeah. We're supposed to get 80-90 mph winds." Since when is 80-90 mph winds September weather?

The dinner was fun and the restaurant was the epitome of a restaurant in an Alaskan fishing town. By the time we ventured back to Anchorage, we were all pretty tired.

Bethel's Ten Year High School Reunion

Background information:

Bethel, Alaska
Population: 5,690
Access: Plane only. Not connected to a road system
Percentage of Homes That Do Not Have Complete Plumbing: 25% (lack sink, bath/shower, or flush toilet)
Hub Village on the Kuskokwim River - literally the middle of nowhere
Landscape: Flat, desolate, and tundra
For More Information: http://bethelak.com/index.html
http://bethelak.com/history.html
http://www.lksd.org/brhs/bethelhigh/highschool/hs.html (high school's website)

Colin
Status: Great friend from UAF. Usher in our wedding. Van Wilder type who continues to party like he is in college. Loyal. Sees the good in people. Impossible to say no to.

The Main Event:

Setting: Our Portland apartment. Midnight on a Saturday night in February. Greg and Mary are getting ready for bed.
Greg's cell phone rings
Greg: Hello?
Colin: Hey, Kreta! What are you doing July 26th?
Greg: Let me check my calendar...Nothing.
Colin: Then you're coming to Bethel High School's ten year reunion in Anchorage. It'll be great!
Greg: Your high school reunion is in Anchorage?
Colin: Yeah! It'll be sweet. Mark your calendar. I gotta go. I'm partying.
Greg: Later, Col.

Setting: Greg's Aunt's house in Anchorage. Greg, Mary, Aunt Maria, and Greg's grandparents are hanging out. 8:00pm, July 30.
Greg's cell phone rings
Greg: Hello?
Colin: Greg! Where are you and Mary?
Greg: My aunt's house. Where are you?
Colin: The Bethel ten year reunion. I just paid $70 to get you in.
Greg: You paid money to get us in?
Colin: Yeah. It's $35 a piece. I really want to see you guys.
Greg: I don't think we want to crash your high school reunion.
Colin: You have to. Otherwise I'll have to go make some friends outside and bring them in. I already paid.
Greg: unintelligible words trying to get out of the invitation.
Colin: We're in the Dillingham Room in the Hilton downtown until midnight. Then we're going out on the town. See you soon.
Greg: Fine. We'll be there.
Hangs up the phone
Mary: Did you just tell Colin we are going to Bethel's reunion?
Greg: Yeah. He paid $70
Mary and Greg's interchange goes on for a while, as you can well imagine. Greg's grandparents discuss who the current village priest is in Bethel and whether or not he'll be there. Then they contemplate why kind of music they'll be playing, "maybe hip hop?"

Setting: Mary and Greg, freshly showered, walking through the Hilton in downtown Anchorage following signs for the Dillingham room.
Mary: Do you feel funny?
Greg: Yeah, I am kinda nervous. Weird, huh?
Mary: No! We're about to crash the ten year reunion of a village we've never been to!
Greg: We'll know a few people there.
Mary: We aren't even planning to go to our own reunions.
Greg: So that means this will count for both of us.

Setting: Mary and Greg walk into the small, dimly lit room with hip hop music playing and an empty dance floor. There are about 25-30 people there (which is the entire class). The front door person asks for their name and money. M&G tell them Colin paid for them and are then informed that Colin went up to his room, but should be back.
M&G walk in looking around the room with a mix of confusion, fear, and disbelief in their eyes.
Matt, who played basketball on UAF's men's team and married a Bethel girl, walks up.
Matt: Hey! (hugs and brief small talk) I wasn't going to come until Colin told me you guys were going to be here, and I figured, if you guys can totally crash, I guess I can come with Megan. There's punch in the corner. Colin spiked it with 151.

Greg and Mary run to the punch and quickly down several glasses. Then they start giggling. They laugh at the fact they are there. They laugh because the reunion is in Anchorage when 90% of the people still live in Bethel and probably flew on the same plane to get here. They laugh because only total geeks would crash Bethel's reunion. Finally, they laugh because Colin put a lot of 151 in the punch.

Colin arrives in the room and it seems that everyone takes notice, especially Mary and Greg. They hug, talk, etc.
Mary: This place isn't as happenin' as I expected.
Colin: Well, it's everyone's first reunion and they don't really know how to act. It's weird for us all to be together in a nice place like this.

Colin's ex-girlfriend, Jess, walks up and joins the conversation. Hugs and chit-chat ensue, the highlight of which is:
Colin: Did you guys see the pictures?
Greg: No, what pictures?
Jess: I sent out an e-mail to everyone to send pictures of what their life is like now. Everyone ignored me except Colin. He sent 40 drunk pictures, 4 of which were too gross or indecent to put out. They're in front.
All four migrate to the photos while Colin explains each drunken photo. Jess leaves disgusted. Greg and Mary laugh so hard at both the stories and classic example of hanging out with Colin that they almost fall over.

People start interrupting to ask Colin where everyone is going after. He is totally the most popular guy in school. His prom date from his junior year keeps trying to relive their prom night. While Colin is distracted, Matt walks up to M&G again.
Greg: Are you and Megan having another baby?
Matt: No. I think we're done with two.
Mary reels with embarrassment. When grilling Greg later she finds out he mistook a pregnant lady for Megan before he actually saw Megan. But he doesn't tell Matt this. Greg lets Matt think he just called his wife fat (and she is not).

Jess: We're all leaving and going to Bernie's.
People start filing out.
Colin: Let's all go to my room for shots.
Everyone goes to room 1414. The whole class, plus Greg, Mary, and Matt, fit into the room. An old, naked man walks around in the room directly across, causing quite a stir before everyone does, indeed, go to Bernie's.

The rest of the evening is relatively uneventful. Dimond High was also finishing up their reunion there as well so there were tons of people on the prowl. Greg and Mary have a few more drinks and continue to laugh incessantly at the entire scenario.

Morals of the Story:
- You can always count on Colin for a good time
- There is nothing like crashing a village's 10 year reunion
- Greg and I have fun together

An Average Intersection

I cannot take credit for this photo as I didn't even recognize the significance of the scene. My mom was in town helping me paint our condo and basically get our house in order. While waiting at the intersection of the New Seward Highway - which is not so much a highway as large boulevard - and Northern Lights, my mom started laughing hysterically and yelping something about the camera, and fur, and corner. None of which made sense until she composed herself enough to point out the woman standing on the corner. Can you see her? Look really hard. She is in grey sweats and a grey t-shirt with when combined with her hair creates an overall unruly ensemble. She is also carrying a real fox fur. But here's the kicker: as we were waiting for the light to turn we saw her pass up walking signals in both directions. She Had No Intention Of Moving Off This Corner. Mom had me turn right very slowly so she can get a picture. We stopped in Sears (whose parking lot you can see on the right) to look at tools for Greg's birthday (which he didn't want, by the way. Aren't all Alaskan men supposed to want tools? Not mine!). When we came back out to the parking lot she was still there. This is what I meant in my first posting when I said I didn't want to become "one of them."

An Explanatory Note

I woke up this morning thinking that perhaps it seems silly that I am having a hard time adjusting to life in Alaska. After all, I did spend 5 years in Fairbanks and Anchorage is, by all accounts, more cosmopolitan. The problem is that I was ready to leave Alaska when I left. I went to grad school in Portland in the hopes of getting it out of my system and realizing my home was in Alaska. Instead I rediscovered how much I Love and Adore Ptown. I feel at home there. I would walk down Hawthorne to my bus stop and physically smile because I was happy with my lot in life. I fell back in love with Portland - and city living - and I wanted to stay there. I made fantastic friends, my family was there and my niece sat on my lap and stole my soda almost daily, and I loved my job and had great opportunities for the future. It didn't help that I went to great cities like Paris, Sydney, Melbourne, and New York and I remembered how invigorated being in the middle of a concrete jungle makes me feel. I am 25 and I want the city life.

But it wasn't in the stars (and my mom won't rearrange them for me). Greg and I are back here for at least 2 full years - it was 1 full year, but that is another entry. We then plan to do a living-in-both-places bit, but I can't help but feel skeptical and am petrified it is forever.

Alas, I am unhappy. I am doing my bestest to make the most of this situation. Greg even tells me he admires my efforts to be happy. The main problem is the things that everyone loves about Anchorage (the wilderness, the rugged beauty, the adventure) I don't want at this point in my life. I want alt fashion, happy hours, walking as a way of life, and 5 great coffee shops within spitting distance from my house.

This is my predicament. I thought I should explain as to not confuse any of my beloved Alaskan friends (who don't live in Anchorage with me) or anyone else who has been harboring secret feelings of confusion.

I had some trouble with comments in my last entry. If you wanna add a comment for the previous entry, just use the comment button on this one and we'll all try not to get confused.

Inaugural

I am officially eating my words. I told myself I'd never have a blog. I didn't want everyone having access to me and my inner thoughts and feelings. But, as I sit in this soon-to-be frigid environment I realize I need to get over myself.
So, here are the reasons I decided to get a blog:

1) I live in a ridiculous place that generally stops me in my tracks at least once a day to say "What the hell?"

2) I am ridiculous in that I am kicking and screaming trying not to become one of them. I have a sneaking suspicion that I am making a fool of myself but I don't know anyone to tell me that.

3) I was talking to Greg's step-cousin, someone who grew up here and then moved to Chicago, and he told me that I need to laugh about Alaska because otherwise I'll just cry all the time. (He knows - his dentist growing up had a hook for a right hand. I'm not joking.)

4) My mom said I should.

6) I started watching the first disk of season 4 of Dawson's Creek. Thank God Netflix takes about 2-4 days to provide the next disk as I promised myself only one episode and, well, I watched the whole disk.

5) I miss my friends and family and figure this will keep me connected (It'll work, right?).

So read everyday, all the time. Comment on my blog and make me feel loved. I'll tell you stories of my life up here. Deal? OK? Please?

And, by the way, I don't want any comments as to whether or not I was a hip urbanite. I was in my mind, dammit.