I leave in a week now, more or less. I've never experienced anything like separation anxiety or a sense of foreboding, in part because I've never lived more than a half-hour from home. I think mentally my subconscious is just preparing myself for going on something of a long vacation. Also, none of the chairs in this house are quite high enough for me to rest my wrists on comfortably while I write, so I have to sit on like two or three pillows. It's not that I'm too short, it's that the chairs are too low and the tables too high. For instance, my desk in my room (soon to be former room) is situated at the highest point on my sloping floor while the chair is at the lowest point. It is not an ergonomic situation. I mention this because I am downstairs at the dining room table writing on my old laptop (which I've been too lazy to bring upstairs. This heat is not especially intense, but it's quite draining). That was a random and unrelated aside, but this is my adventure journal, so I can do whatever the hell I want. I could write about how I think zebras are soooo great and how we should keep zebras instead of dogs and then we should all move to Montana and depopulate the whole United States except there and how we should all wear clogs instead of shoes. But then you'd just think I was a crazy person. Well you know what? Fuck you. And you too. And especially you.
So... I spent most of today packing up my room. I hate packing. I always have more stuff at the end than I did in the beginning, and however I arranged my things while packing the first time doesn't work the second time. It's like doing a puzzle with one of the pieces missing. Or worse, it's like having several different puzzles that could all be interchangeable, and you've mixed one or two pieces from each set by accident. In the end, everything is slightly wrong, and you recognize this, but you don't know how to fix it. That is why I don't do puzzles. Also, I've decided that rather than put much of my stuff in storage, stuff that is generally useful to other people, I'll be lending out various things. For instance, my current house and the house I'll be in the spring have tons of couches, and so I've lent (Martha's) Ikea couch to my friend Nelli, who genuinely has use of it. And I hate shirts with tags goddamnit. They poke me in the most annoying ways. Is it so hard to stitch the whole tag down, or even better just print the information on the fabric with ink? AAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggghhhhh!!!!!
This is turning into a bitter rant. The humidity is causing my brain to fry slowly. Okay, so I need to finish packing, I leave for Chicago on Tuesday night, get there early Wednesday morning, leave Thursday afternoon, and then I have Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday at home. Then, I leave Wednesday afternoon. In Chicago, I'll get my visa processed, and then when I get back I'll put together a couple of suitcases and set aside some boxes with stuff I might want later on in the year. I also need to get a Eurail Pass, because this has been recommended to me by all my friends. What else do I need to do? Nothing, I suppose. I'm set other than a few little details. Cool. Vive la France. I'm hoping for minimal striking.
7.29.2008
7.23.2008
Duluth Travelogue No. 2
This is late, but my memory still serves.
While I may be a geographer and explorer extraordinaire, I haven't actually been to a whole lot of places. There are two chief reasons for this are that 1) I'm young and 2) I'm broke. Even within the state of Minnesota, I am poorly traveled because let's face it, most of this state is uninteresting. However, when someone lives in place X and offers you a means Y of getting there, then fun factor Z increases exponentially. Using this regression, I wound up in Duluth again last weekend.
Why? Because that is where Cha Cha Thibs lives. Her real name is Chelsea Thibodeau, but we call her Cha Cha Thibs because it is embarrassing for her and at the same time amusing to all of us. Liz Scholz and Hannah Lamb are the brains behind that name, so blame them if you wish to blame. Chelsea lives in a nice brick house from whose kitchen window you can see Lake Superior. It is very nautical themed, because her father is a shipping engineer for the big freighters on the Great Lakes.
We arrived by automobile on the Interstate No. 35. The ride up north was relatively uneventful, plus it's been a week so if there were funny little this or thats, I've forgotten them. We arrived in the mid-afternoon and, after getting settled at Chelsea's house, we adjourned to the beach. The weekend before, Andrew, Lea and I had all tried going to the beach on what we learned was "Minnesota Point", a sandbar between the port of Duluth and Lake Superior. However, it was dark and we had no familiarity with the area, so we gave up. Our intent had been to light off fireworks, which we ended up doing on Hawk Ridge, which was ultimately quite cool. Back to the less-distant past though, it was spectacularly windy that day, and we feared that our day at the beach would be ruined. However, it was only windy on the western side of the sandbar, and there was a stand of windbreaks in between the beach and the road, and it was quite pleasant on the eastern side.
Lake Superior is cold. Lake Superior is like a bath with only the cold-water tap on. And then, you add ice cubes. Chelsea, having lived near this frigid aquifer all her life is used to its abnormally shocking temperatures, and was diving in and out of the water like we were in the damn Bahamas. Each and every one of us travelers however was waiting apprehensively on the beach, perhaps hoping a small dwarf star might collide with the lake and warm it a couple of degrees above absolute zero. While all of us did go in above our heads, at first the water was simply numbing. Cold cold cold buggerall cold! Chelsea frequently taunted us for our lack of daring. We in turn thought she was out of her mind.
While on the beach, we decided to play frisbee, but none of us being particularly Olympic with it, we would often toss it too far and it would go straight into the Lake. It was then somebody's responsibility to go and fetch it, and perhaps suffer hypothermia at the same time. Chelsea would usually go get it, calling whoever it had been thrown to a baby or a wuss. Eventually though, this was a good way of testing our mettle and it provided an important lesson in not throwing so hard. A little later on, as we were all on the sand, a little baby boy waddled over and Kaia, who is among the tallest women I know, played with him for a little bit. It was cuter than words can accurately describe. After frisbee and a brisk swim, we were all hungry.
We went to a place called the Brewhouse for dinner, which was reasonably priced, given the current economy, and it brewed its own rootbeer (as well as regular beer, but we couldn't have any of that). Everything was quite tasty, and it was Hannah Longley's birthday, so we all got her a piece of carrot cake. After that, it had started to drizzle, so we looked around the various outing supply stores in the building. My advisor, Dan Trudeau, had told me about this building as being a good example of tourist-driven gentrification. You have an old building which has outlived its usefulness (being a brewery) and you have a city that likes its old buildings and uses them to draw tourists, and you put the two together, find some tenants, and there you have a new use! How novel. After a little bit, the rain had ended and we went and walked down by the beach. It was a rocky beach, with excellent skipping stones. Eric and Nora are excellent skippers. Aaron and I, not so hot.
After that, it was pretty well dark, so we headed back to Cha Cha's to sleep. More later, I have to leave work now. I'll amend this post in a couple of minutes.
Alright, so those several minutes turned into a couple of days. Shoot me. We went home to Chelsea's to digest and to settle in for the night. Some of her friends from home came by and we interacted skittishly, as is natural when strangers through mutual friends meet. To break the ice, we played the game where you put a bunch of people's names into a bowl - either famous people or friends - and you draw a name at random and without looking at it you tape it to your forehead. Then, through asking yes or no questions to a partner, you have to guess who you are, and they have to guess who they are. It can be extremely challenging, especially if you pick something like 'Your mom' or 'Darth Vader'. "Did I kill Obi Wan Kenobi?" is not an obvious starting question. After a few rounds of that, and then some this and that, we all went to bed.
The next morning, we awoke, ate our discount cereal, and headed to the harbor. One of Chelsea's friends works on a tour boat and got us free tickets. The tour lead us around a very windy harbor, and we got to see ore ships, wind turbine stacking yards, and various mills. We also got to see a ship that was a fifth of a mile long. When you think about just how big that is, if stood on end, it would be taller than most skyscrapers. Wowie. Also, at the Duluth Convention Center, there was a dog show going on, and we had fun mudwrestling with the dogs as their owners stood by in horror. Okay, maybe that didn't happen.
After that, we packed up, drove back to the Twin Cities, and that was the end of my second Duluth adventure.
While I may be a geographer and explorer extraordinaire, I haven't actually been to a whole lot of places. There are two chief reasons for this are that 1) I'm young and 2) I'm broke. Even within the state of Minnesota, I am poorly traveled because let's face it, most of this state is uninteresting. However, when someone lives in place X and offers you a means Y of getting there, then fun factor Z increases exponentially. Using this regression, I wound up in Duluth again last weekend.
Why? Because that is where Cha Cha Thibs lives. Her real name is Chelsea Thibodeau, but we call her Cha Cha Thibs because it is embarrassing for her and at the same time amusing to all of us. Liz Scholz and Hannah Lamb are the brains behind that name, so blame them if you wish to blame. Chelsea lives in a nice brick house from whose kitchen window you can see Lake Superior. It is very nautical themed, because her father is a shipping engineer for the big freighters on the Great Lakes.
We arrived by automobile on the Interstate No. 35. The ride up north was relatively uneventful, plus it's been a week so if there were funny little this or thats, I've forgotten them. We arrived in the mid-afternoon and, after getting settled at Chelsea's house, we adjourned to the beach. The weekend before, Andrew, Lea and I had all tried going to the beach on what we learned was "Minnesota Point", a sandbar between the port of Duluth and Lake Superior. However, it was dark and we had no familiarity with the area, so we gave up. Our intent had been to light off fireworks, which we ended up doing on Hawk Ridge, which was ultimately quite cool. Back to the less-distant past though, it was spectacularly windy that day, and we feared that our day at the beach would be ruined. However, it was only windy on the western side of the sandbar, and there was a stand of windbreaks in between the beach and the road, and it was quite pleasant on the eastern side.
Lake Superior is cold. Lake Superior is like a bath with only the cold-water tap on. And then, you add ice cubes. Chelsea, having lived near this frigid aquifer all her life is used to its abnormally shocking temperatures, and was diving in and out of the water like we were in the damn Bahamas. Each and every one of us travelers however was waiting apprehensively on the beach, perhaps hoping a small dwarf star might collide with the lake and warm it a couple of degrees above absolute zero. While all of us did go in above our heads, at first the water was simply numbing. Cold cold cold buggerall cold! Chelsea frequently taunted us for our lack of daring. We in turn thought she was out of her mind.
While on the beach, we decided to play frisbee, but none of us being particularly Olympic with it, we would often toss it too far and it would go straight into the Lake. It was then somebody's responsibility to go and fetch it, and perhaps suffer hypothermia at the same time. Chelsea would usually go get it, calling whoever it had been thrown to a baby or a wuss. Eventually though, this was a good way of testing our mettle and it provided an important lesson in not throwing so hard. A little later on, as we were all on the sand, a little baby boy waddled over and Kaia, who is among the tallest women I know, played with him for a little bit. It was cuter than words can accurately describe. After frisbee and a brisk swim, we were all hungry.
We went to a place called the Brewhouse for dinner, which was reasonably priced, given the current economy, and it brewed its own rootbeer (as well as regular beer, but we couldn't have any of that). Everything was quite tasty, and it was Hannah Longley's birthday, so we all got her a piece of carrot cake. After that, it had started to drizzle, so we looked around the various outing supply stores in the building. My advisor, Dan Trudeau, had told me about this building as being a good example of tourist-driven gentrification. You have an old building which has outlived its usefulness (being a brewery) and you have a city that likes its old buildings and uses them to draw tourists, and you put the two together, find some tenants, and there you have a new use! How novel. After a little bit, the rain had ended and we went and walked down by the beach. It was a rocky beach, with excellent skipping stones. Eric and Nora are excellent skippers. Aaron and I, not so hot.
After that, it was pretty well dark, so we headed back to Cha Cha's to sleep. More later, I have to leave work now. I'll amend this post in a couple of minutes.
Alright, so those several minutes turned into a couple of days. Shoot me. We went home to Chelsea's to digest and to settle in for the night. Some of her friends from home came by and we interacted skittishly, as is natural when strangers through mutual friends meet. To break the ice, we played the game where you put a bunch of people's names into a bowl - either famous people or friends - and you draw a name at random and without looking at it you tape it to your forehead. Then, through asking yes or no questions to a partner, you have to guess who you are, and they have to guess who they are. It can be extremely challenging, especially if you pick something like 'Your mom' or 'Darth Vader'. "Did I kill Obi Wan Kenobi?" is not an obvious starting question. After a few rounds of that, and then some this and that, we all went to bed.
The next morning, we awoke, ate our discount cereal, and headed to the harbor. One of Chelsea's friends works on a tour boat and got us free tickets. The tour lead us around a very windy harbor, and we got to see ore ships, wind turbine stacking yards, and various mills. We also got to see a ship that was a fifth of a mile long. When you think about just how big that is, if stood on end, it would be taller than most skyscrapers. Wowie. Also, at the Duluth Convention Center, there was a dog show going on, and we had fun mudwrestling with the dogs as their owners stood by in horror. Okay, maybe that didn't happen.
After that, we packed up, drove back to the Twin Cities, and that was the end of my second Duluth adventure.
7.18.2008
I Have No More Use For My Eyes
I shall now be opening an E-bay account and selling my eyesight to the highest bidder. Why? Because I have seen Batman Begins. That was quite simply a spectacular movie. By far, the best superhero movie I had seen in my lifetime. And then, a new life began for me. No longer was I Peter, a simple man with simple goals and a simple existence. At 12:01 this morning, as the Grandview Theater darkened and the crowd silenced itself, a new Peter was born. A Peter that had seen The Dark Knight, and had found something that only Sir Edmund Hillary, Neil Armstrong and Buddha had found. I had found Enlightenment, and its name was Awesome. Now, like those great explorers into worlds beyond, I and those touched by the beauty and terrific might of this piece of art have but one purpose. We are committed to leading all others into the new future, a future with Awesome, and Christian Bale, and Heath Ledger, and more Awesome, and Gary Oldman, and yet more Awesome still. In fact, were it possible to process Awesome into light sweet crude oil, there would no longer be an energy crisis. This testament to the cinema would quite simply be the Saudi Arabia of Awesome. Multiplied several hundred octillion times. And then multiplied by an even bigger number. And then squared. Some might even say that this would be more awesome than Abraham Lincoln doing capoeira atop the Eiffel Tower on the surface of the Sun. I am some of those people.
Go see the Dark Knight. Quickly. You've already wasted enough time reading this post. You're not in the theater yet. Drive fools, drive!!
*Clarification: Batman Begins was the beginning of Awesome. Dark Knight is the zenith. Therefore, I am not wrong in citing that movie in sentence three. However, the statement is rather convoluted. I was just too messed up by the greatness of both films to think clearly.
Go see the Dark Knight. Quickly. You've already wasted enough time reading this post. You're not in the theater yet. Drive fools, drive!!
*Clarification: Batman Begins was the beginning of Awesome. Dark Knight is the zenith. Therefore, I am not wrong in citing that movie in sentence three. However, the statement is rather convoluted. I was just too messed up by the greatness of both films to think clearly.
7.16.2008
Peter 1, Frog Buggerers 0
For anyone who is confused, the Frog Buggerers are what I shall now call the French bureaucrats who thought to scorn me. Did they win? Hell no! Everything is now in order to get my visa, and the last great hurdle to my epic journey across the sea is surmounted. Like Erik the Red, I shall lead an army greater than any ever seen upon the face of Middle Earth and I shall break down the walls of Troy, and yea they shall mourn the loss of the great civilization of the Yamato. Wait... mixing historical arguments again. Nevermind.
In any case, I'm off to France. The good news is I'm off to France. The bad news is now that I have the logistics in order, I have to get my finances in order. That means taking money out of my savings, paying bills, getting a new debit card (because my current one will expire in January 2009 - while I'm still in Europe) and not least I need to pack! Oh my, I've got a bit to pack yet. And I have to write thank yous to my underwriters, and goodbyes to my entourages, and the dreaded "In Case of My Being Taken Hostage" letter revealing the location of the $16.5 million I have buried in the lake for just such an eventuality.
Today at the Fund, when I found out the news, I did a little dance. I also raised about $2,000 today (it was more like collecting dues than actually convincing anyone to give who hadn't already) and finished up my drawing. Two things dominate my time spent at the fund - drawing and now, playing TravelIQ or whatever that game is called. TravelIQ or whatever that game is called is a game on Facebook that requires you to pinpoint on a map of the world or various continents certain cities, monuments or events (for instance, Panama City, the Aswan Dam, or the Battle of Hastings) and you're judged on how far off the mark you are in your pinpointing and how long it took you to do it. In my first game, I beat all but 7 of my 100 odd friends playing. In the second attempt, I have beat all but one. My coworkers remarked at how skilled I was, one of them saying, "Jesus! What are you, a geography major?!" to which I replied that I was. She was only slightly less impressed. I think I'm cool. The rest of my time is spent drawing, the products of which I give to my friends. Also, I really hope my boss doesn't read my blog. And Martha, you're not allowed to inform Zach of my blog's existence, nor to my nefarious activities.
Helen asked me why the Q&KaBam! Time had gone away, and like a vestigal organ, it has receded into history. Mainly, I'm too lazy and I already write a bloody lot per entry. Speaking of that, that's all I'll say for now!
In any case, I'm off to France. The good news is I'm off to France. The bad news is now that I have the logistics in order, I have to get my finances in order. That means taking money out of my savings, paying bills, getting a new debit card (because my current one will expire in January 2009 - while I'm still in Europe) and not least I need to pack! Oh my, I've got a bit to pack yet. And I have to write thank yous to my underwriters, and goodbyes to my entourages, and the dreaded "In Case of My Being Taken Hostage" letter revealing the location of the $16.5 million I have buried in the lake for just such an eventuality.
Today at the Fund, when I found out the news, I did a little dance. I also raised about $2,000 today (it was more like collecting dues than actually convincing anyone to give who hadn't already) and finished up my drawing. Two things dominate my time spent at the fund - drawing and now, playing TravelIQ or whatever that game is called. TravelIQ or whatever that game is called is a game on Facebook that requires you to pinpoint on a map of the world or various continents certain cities, monuments or events (for instance, Panama City, the Aswan Dam, or the Battle of Hastings) and you're judged on how far off the mark you are in your pinpointing and how long it took you to do it. In my first game, I beat all but 7 of my 100 odd friends playing. In the second attempt, I have beat all but one. My coworkers remarked at how skilled I was, one of them saying, "Jesus! What are you, a geography major?!" to which I replied that I was. She was only slightly less impressed. I think I'm cool. The rest of my time is spent drawing, the products of which I give to my friends. Also, I really hope my boss doesn't read my blog. And Martha, you're not allowed to inform Zach of my blog's existence, nor to my nefarious activities.
Helen asked me why the Q&KaBam! Time had gone away, and like a vestigal organ, it has receded into history. Mainly, I'm too lazy and I already write a bloody lot per entry. Speaking of that, that's all I'll say for now!
7.14.2008
Update
Happy Bastille Day! That being said, the goddamn French consulate has yet to give me any kind of word regarding my visa, and the issue is now pushing from being an irritation to being a genuine concern. I do not relish the idea of going to France on a travel visa and at the end of 90 days - instead of 150 - having to figure out how I'm going to stay in the country. Many people are working on my behalf, including the U of M people, people at Mac, and myself, but CampusFrance is naturally closed today, and has been unresponsive in the interim. Bugger all. This also means I have to reschedule my consulate visit from this Friday to a date dangerously close to my departure. If by Wednesday I have not heard anything, I will quite simply reapply - nevermind the fees - and hope for greater expediency. Maybe if I think good thoughts about Nicolas Sarkozy...
On the bright side, I found out my host family placement this last Thursday. I will be living with Monsieur and Madame Mittifiot de Belair, at Impasse Treillet, Montpellier 34000 - which is an old house in the center of the city without a garden (this point was specifically included). Mme is 54 and a piano teacher, and M is 55 and on the executive staff of a bank. They have three children of indeterminate ages, but given the ages of their parents, I would assume them to be around my age. M & Mme enjoy tennis, music and going to the cinema. I shall be sending them a letter soon, and shall keep y'all posted on the correspondence with my host family.
Additionally, I have been watching the BBC series Planet Earth. It is extremely spectacular. I have always been a fan of the natural world, but that's more akin to being a die-hard follower of the Cinncinnati Reds - the point of this analogy being that not everyone is one. Planet Earth is so moving in its presentation that anyone watching it becomes like a Red Sox fan in 2006 - excited and invigorated by the spectacle. And now I'm done ever mixing baseball and David Attenborough. My favorite part of the series so far have been - and in no particular order:
1 - Giant mountain of bat guano
2 - Great White Shark eating seals
3 - The Snow Leopards of the Karakorum Mountains
4 - Penguins
5 - The diaries at the end that help you to understand how goddamn hard it is to film what has been filmed in this series.
Next I shall include my second Duluth travelogue.
Robo-Buddhism is the way to go.
On the bright side, I found out my host family placement this last Thursday. I will be living with Monsieur and Madame Mittifiot de Belair, at Impasse Treillet, Montpellier 34000 - which is an old house in the center of the city without a garden (this point was specifically included). Mme is 54 and a piano teacher, and M is 55 and on the executive staff of a bank. They have three children of indeterminate ages, but given the ages of their parents, I would assume them to be around my age. M & Mme enjoy tennis, music and going to the cinema. I shall be sending them a letter soon, and shall keep y'all posted on the correspondence with my host family.
Additionally, I have been watching the BBC series Planet Earth. It is extremely spectacular. I have always been a fan of the natural world, but that's more akin to being a die-hard follower of the Cinncinnati Reds - the point of this analogy being that not everyone is one. Planet Earth is so moving in its presentation that anyone watching it becomes like a Red Sox fan in 2006 - excited and invigorated by the spectacle. And now I'm done ever mixing baseball and David Attenborough. My favorite part of the series so far have been - and in no particular order:
1 - Giant mountain of bat guano
2 - Great White Shark eating seals
3 - The Snow Leopards of the Karakorum Mountains
4 - Penguins
5 - The diaries at the end that help you to understand how goddamn hard it is to film what has been filmed in this series.
Next I shall include my second Duluth travelogue.
Robo-Buddhism is the way to go.
7.09.2008
Settling Accounts
Bills, loans, visas, goodbyes, packing, bills, work, phone calls, reading, meetings, visas, e-mails, bills, mail, work, goodbyes, letters, packing, writing, e-mails, bills, fees, planning, packing, moving, loans, money... never ever go to France. Ugh.
At least the weather has broken and it is noticeably cooler outside. July is a beautiful month. Anyone want to come work for me as a personal assistant? No beatings, and you'll even get your own corner to huddle in.
At least the weather has broken and it is noticeably cooler outside. July is a beautiful month. Anyone want to come work for me as a personal assistant? No beatings, and you'll even get your own corner to huddle in.
7.07.2008
Act of God Clause
For the purposes of this adventure journal, all statements are not only factual but legally binding and inviolate truth. Therefore, if the United States is 244 years old, then the revolution occurred 12 years prior to the date of most historical documentation. Who am I to argue with history? Me. That's who. You watch yourself, history.
7.06.2008
Duluth Travelogue No. 1
The nation's birthday was a great success. I gave her a big cake with 244 candles and a 245th to grow on. God willing, the United States will exist next year. Wow. The US is almost a quarter of a millennium old. That's getting up there in years. As commodore, and being generally awesome, I must say that auspicious events such as that deserve nothing less than an even bigger cake than is normally given to nations.
Currently, I am up in Duluth with Andrew and Lea (Joe could not come, unfortunately). We are staying in Andrew's house, where he, Dave and Ben will live during the school year. I've only been to Duluth like three times in my life, and never for anything more than a driveby. Actually getting out and seeing the city has been really really cool. Minnesota is, on the whole, completely flat. The slight changes in elevation from street to street that constitute hills in the Twin Cities would be laughed at here. Duluth is situated on the slopes of the hills that run down into Lake Superior, and that makes it long, narrow and extremely hilly. It looks like San Francisco. It's like the San Francisco of the North. Yesterday, when we arrived, we watched the fireworks, which we probably should have been closer to have appreciated fully, and then made dinner of sausages and black beans and rice. It was tasty. We watched some Sealab 2021 (I only have the first season, for those of you who are keeping track of my birthday wishes) and then went straight to sleep. I woke up around 7AM because I couldn't sleep any more, and took a shower and read Gorillas in the Mist for a bit. Once Andrew and Lea were awake, we made omelets, which were delicious.
Andrew goes to UMD, and this is will be the first year in which he has lived off campus and also had a car. So, in trying to get to all the different places that Andrew knows around the area, we've been driving around based upon the directions Andrew has in his head from running and biking everywhere. This knowledge doesn't translate perfectly, as is exemplified when we came down a street today that connects only by stairway to the street above. Andrew's Saturn was not quite up to the challenge. Still, Andrew getting lost everywhere is a good way for him to remember directions in the future. Lea will see to that.
Today, we went hiking up to a rock outcropping called Hartley's Point, and then hiking around some waterfalls. After this, we went down to Lake Superior and walked around the shoreline. Gravel and stone beaches are not so easy on the feet, but are a novel diversion for me, who has only ever seen white and yellow sand on everything. I have found several interesting rocks, include part of an agate known as a Thunder Egg. This is because of the white quartz in the center and the darker outside layers. It is quite small however, but interesting all the same. After hiking, we went to Canal Park to have lunch. I cannot recall the last time I went to a restaurant and ate everything on my plate. Usually there is something left that I couldn't quite fit in my stomach, but magically, this time, I consumed every morsel. Maybe its because Andrew was there and, because he averages ten miles running per day, can and must eat like a ox.
For the countless phalanxes of readers that I have who might not know who Andrew and Lea are, they are Andrew Vasilakes and Lea Jacobsen, who I have known since about sophmore year of high school, if not earlier. Lea and I used to be profound enemies until she started hanging out with my gamenight friends more and more often, and became more like me. I have this effect on people; join me or I'll cut off your hand with a lightsaber. Lea chose the easier of the options. She is another one of my friends who wants to be a doctor, but I forgive her for this. She is smart, and has an inventive sense of humor, much like my own. Andrew, on the other hand, is perhaps the only person I will admit to being more out there than myself. Case and point, he once decided to stop brushing his teeth, but rather drink pop before going to bed, because the carbonic acid would scour his enamel of bacteria. It wasn't until later that he realized the sugar deposition following this simply caused more bacterial growth. Also, in his biology class senior year, he decided to tell everyone to call him Lloyd, except he would forget he told them this. The teacher would often call "Lloyd, what is the answer?" No response. "Lloyd?" No response. "Lloyd!". Andrew would then turn and realize he was being addressed. His family recently changed the pronunciation of their last name from Vaa-sih-lakes to Vah-see-lah-kis (the traditional Greek pronunciation). His father decided this, and his mother found out by calling her husband at work, getting his voicemail and hearing the changed name without her forewarning. She was none too pleased. Much like on Simpsons when Homer changes Marge's name to Hooty McBoob, or Chesty LaRue. Lea and Andrew are also dating, but not in a way that makes me feel like a third wheel to be here, which is extremely nice.
After hiking and lunch, we hung about at Canal Park until one of the big taconite ships came through the lift bridge. It was impressively large, although I believe I've seen larger (Good God, it's the Kitty Hawk!) And after that, we went... somewhere. Where? Damn, I forget. Well, I was bloody tired, so I was asleep for it anyways. We got back to the house, took naps, and woke for dinner. We went to an awfully overpriced malt shop (Portland Malts, don't go) and then peoplewatched. When Andrew and Lea and I people watch (Yes, we've done this before) we invent stories of people's lives, which makes watching them all the more amusing. My favorite was the pre-school teacher who was an Olympian, but killed one of her students for being annoying and was thus disqualified. Or the man pretending to be Irish and dating the amnesiac Irishwoman. After that, it was starting to get dark, so we walked around trying to find a place to eat. We managed to get up the hill a bit to an imposing structure with a clock tower I swore would be City Hall or something like that. What was this grand building? A public high school! The youth of Duluth honestly go to school in buildings grander than anything at my college, much less the carpbin where I went to high school. We ate at Pizza Luce (same as in Saint Paul, even the staff look alike) and then went up to Hawk Ridge to light off fireworks.
We were originally going to go to the beach on the Wisconsin side, but after nearly half an hour of fruitless driving, we returned to Minnesota. Wisconsin has nothing going for it, except that... no, nothing. The world should shrink it out of existence so the Twin Cities will be six hours closer to Chicago. The fireworks were neat, mostly bottle rocks and a really cool one called the Busy Bee, but both Andrew and I burnt our fingers. We returned home, watched more Sealab and went to bed, which is where I am now headed. This is an exceedingly long post. I've been meaning to keep them short, but I'm just not good at that. I'm much too detail oriented, and my memory is just a bit too specific. I suppose I need a concussion...
Currently, I am up in Duluth with Andrew and Lea (Joe could not come, unfortunately). We are staying in Andrew's house, where he, Dave and Ben will live during the school year. I've only been to Duluth like three times in my life, and never for anything more than a driveby. Actually getting out and seeing the city has been really really cool. Minnesota is, on the whole, completely flat. The slight changes in elevation from street to street that constitute hills in the Twin Cities would be laughed at here. Duluth is situated on the slopes of the hills that run down into Lake Superior, and that makes it long, narrow and extremely hilly. It looks like San Francisco. It's like the San Francisco of the North. Yesterday, when we arrived, we watched the fireworks, which we probably should have been closer to have appreciated fully, and then made dinner of sausages and black beans and rice. It was tasty. We watched some Sealab 2021 (I only have the first season, for those of you who are keeping track of my birthday wishes) and then went straight to sleep. I woke up around 7AM because I couldn't sleep any more, and took a shower and read Gorillas in the Mist for a bit. Once Andrew and Lea were awake, we made omelets, which were delicious.
Andrew goes to UMD, and this is will be the first year in which he has lived off campus and also had a car. So, in trying to get to all the different places that Andrew knows around the area, we've been driving around based upon the directions Andrew has in his head from running and biking everywhere. This knowledge doesn't translate perfectly, as is exemplified when we came down a street today that connects only by stairway to the street above. Andrew's Saturn was not quite up to the challenge. Still, Andrew getting lost everywhere is a good way for him to remember directions in the future. Lea will see to that.
Today, we went hiking up to a rock outcropping called Hartley's Point, and then hiking around some waterfalls. After this, we went down to Lake Superior and walked around the shoreline. Gravel and stone beaches are not so easy on the feet, but are a novel diversion for me, who has only ever seen white and yellow sand on everything. I have found several interesting rocks, include part of an agate known as a Thunder Egg. This is because of the white quartz in the center and the darker outside layers. It is quite small however, but interesting all the same. After hiking, we went to Canal Park to have lunch. I cannot recall the last time I went to a restaurant and ate everything on my plate. Usually there is something left that I couldn't quite fit in my stomach, but magically, this time, I consumed every morsel. Maybe its because Andrew was there and, because he averages ten miles running per day, can and must eat like a ox.
For the countless phalanxes of readers that I have who might not know who Andrew and Lea are, they are Andrew Vasilakes and Lea Jacobsen, who I have known since about sophmore year of high school, if not earlier. Lea and I used to be profound enemies until she started hanging out with my gamenight friends more and more often, and became more like me. I have this effect on people; join me or I'll cut off your hand with a lightsaber. Lea chose the easier of the options. She is another one of my friends who wants to be a doctor, but I forgive her for this. She is smart, and has an inventive sense of humor, much like my own. Andrew, on the other hand, is perhaps the only person I will admit to being more out there than myself. Case and point, he once decided to stop brushing his teeth, but rather drink pop before going to bed, because the carbonic acid would scour his enamel of bacteria. It wasn't until later that he realized the sugar deposition following this simply caused more bacterial growth. Also, in his biology class senior year, he decided to tell everyone to call him Lloyd, except he would forget he told them this. The teacher would often call "Lloyd, what is the answer?" No response. "Lloyd?" No response. "Lloyd!". Andrew would then turn and realize he was being addressed. His family recently changed the pronunciation of their last name from Vaa-sih-lakes to Vah-see-lah-kis (the traditional Greek pronunciation). His father decided this, and his mother found out by calling her husband at work, getting his voicemail and hearing the changed name without her forewarning. She was none too pleased. Much like on Simpsons when Homer changes Marge's name to Hooty McBoob, or Chesty LaRue. Lea and Andrew are also dating, but not in a way that makes me feel like a third wheel to be here, which is extremely nice.
After hiking and lunch, we hung about at Canal Park until one of the big taconite ships came through the lift bridge. It was impressively large, although I believe I've seen larger (Good God, it's the Kitty Hawk!) And after that, we went... somewhere. Where? Damn, I forget. Well, I was bloody tired, so I was asleep for it anyways. We got back to the house, took naps, and woke for dinner. We went to an awfully overpriced malt shop (Portland Malts, don't go) and then peoplewatched. When Andrew and Lea and I people watch (Yes, we've done this before) we invent stories of people's lives, which makes watching them all the more amusing. My favorite was the pre-school teacher who was an Olympian, but killed one of her students for being annoying and was thus disqualified. Or the man pretending to be Irish and dating the amnesiac Irishwoman. After that, it was starting to get dark, so we walked around trying to find a place to eat. We managed to get up the hill a bit to an imposing structure with a clock tower I swore would be City Hall or something like that. What was this grand building? A public high school! The youth of Duluth honestly go to school in buildings grander than anything at my college, much less the carpbin where I went to high school. We ate at Pizza Luce (same as in Saint Paul, even the staff look alike) and then went up to Hawk Ridge to light off fireworks.
We were originally going to go to the beach on the Wisconsin side, but after nearly half an hour of fruitless driving, we returned to Minnesota. Wisconsin has nothing going for it, except that... no, nothing. The world should shrink it out of existence so the Twin Cities will be six hours closer to Chicago. The fireworks were neat, mostly bottle rocks and a really cool one called the Busy Bee, but both Andrew and I burnt our fingers. We returned home, watched more Sealab and went to bed, which is where I am now headed. This is an exceedingly long post. I've been meaning to keep them short, but I'm just not good at that. I'm much too detail oriented, and my memory is just a bit too specific. I suppose I need a concussion...
7.03.2008
Life Without Internet, or How I Got Transported Back to 789 AD
I have the plague. My father and mother both perished in a swamp after being chased there by Moorish raiders, and the cow was eaten by a bear. On the plus side, only a dozen of my thirty siblings died during the winter. Yes, somehow I have been transported back to the Dark Ages. No one can read, half the people have the European equivalent of Jungle Fever, and the dogs eat better than we do. For the last three days now, I have been without internet. We are switching from one provider to another, and but the new service doesn't start until Friday. Therefore, I am reduced to going to the Macalester library to write this. I fear the worst.
In other news, I'm going to Duluth for the weekend with Andrew and Lea, and maybe Joe for the Fourth of July. Like any good nation, the United States was founded on the guiding principles of life, liberty and the pursuit of fireworks. It is after all immortalized in the First Amendment of the Constitution, "Thou Shalt Have Fireworks On The Fourth," and subsequent court cases have interpreted it as "Thou Shalt Have Fireworks On The Fourth, And Beer And Hot Dogs Wherever Beer And Hot Dogs Are Sold." This ruling of course overturned the previous landmark case of The United States v. Sucksylvania, which had banned all fun from being had in public. Thurgood Marshall, writing the majority opinion said, "Good, now I can drink beer, and eat hot dogs, and shoot off fireworks. God Bless America," after which point he and Potter Stewart had a Roman Candle fight on the steps of the Supreme Court Building. So, even if we don't have beer and hot dogs (because one is illegal and the other is of questionable sanitary status), we certainly will have fireworks. And, I've only been to Duluth like twice, and never for very long.
Also, I discovered last night that the house where my friends Kaia, Nelli, Patrick and Hannah live is being foreclosed on August 14th. They received notice by legal courier yesterday that the $560,000 mortgage on the house, taken out in July of last year, has apparently defaulted, and the house will be auctioned by the bank. They called their landlord, who is only the building manager and not the building owner and told him this. He then informed them that he had been trying to get a hold of the owner for the last two weeks, but hadn't heard back. Hmmm...
And my visa is still in limbo, which is bloody annoying since tomorrow is two weeks before I have to go to the consulate to ask for my visa, and if anything is out of order with Campus France, I might have to wait another two weeks before getting it processed again, which means I'd have to reschedule my interview at the consulate, which would complicate life just a little bit. And of course, they don't respond to e-mails, and heaven forfend that they should have a working telephone! I hate the French bureaucracy
In other news, I'm going to Duluth for the weekend with Andrew and Lea, and maybe Joe for the Fourth of July. Like any good nation, the United States was founded on the guiding principles of life, liberty and the pursuit of fireworks. It is after all immortalized in the First Amendment of the Constitution, "Thou Shalt Have Fireworks On The Fourth," and subsequent court cases have interpreted it as "Thou Shalt Have Fireworks On The Fourth, And Beer And Hot Dogs Wherever Beer And Hot Dogs Are Sold." This ruling of course overturned the previous landmark case of The United States v. Sucksylvania, which had banned all fun from being had in public. Thurgood Marshall, writing the majority opinion said, "Good, now I can drink beer, and eat hot dogs, and shoot off fireworks. God Bless America," after which point he and Potter Stewart had a Roman Candle fight on the steps of the Supreme Court Building. So, even if we don't have beer and hot dogs (because one is illegal and the other is of questionable sanitary status), we certainly will have fireworks. And, I've only been to Duluth like twice, and never for very long.
Also, I discovered last night that the house where my friends Kaia, Nelli, Patrick and Hannah live is being foreclosed on August 14th. They received notice by legal courier yesterday that the $560,000 mortgage on the house, taken out in July of last year, has apparently defaulted, and the house will be auctioned by the bank. They called their landlord, who is only the building manager and not the building owner and told him this. He then informed them that he had been trying to get a hold of the owner for the last two weeks, but hadn't heard back. Hmmm...
And my visa is still in limbo, which is bloody annoying since tomorrow is two weeks before I have to go to the consulate to ask for my visa, and if anything is out of order with Campus France, I might have to wait another two weeks before getting it processed again, which means I'd have to reschedule my interview at the consulate, which would complicate life just a little bit. And of course, they don't respond to e-mails, and heaven forfend that they should have a working telephone! I hate the French bureaucracy
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