Capsule

A friend of mine is visiting Thailand soon for a couple weeks.

It hurts.

Well, it doesn’t hurt. it’s a yearning feeling.

I forget in which language it is but the translation to miss something, is actually to have it missing from you.

That is what Thailand is to me.

Not just a nation, but my true self is there somehow. I know that nostalgia has kicked in in a way that I am different person from my Thai self. And if I visited now, it would an utterly different experience as I would do different things and react differently.

Everything would be different.

In my memory though, Thailand is a time capsule of tough lessons learned the hard way, and waking up every morning to sun in my sheets knowing I was happy.

I’m yearning to open up that time capsule for myself.

Maybe, I just need to create another instead.

Grumpy

I have become a grumpy old man.

And like most old men, I don’t know when or how this happened.

Fatigue, idiots, and being surrounded by other old men are probably to blame.

This semester I have enrolled in an EMT class because I generally am really interested in emergency care and helping people whilst being at a university that has a great school of medicine. It really did work it quite nicely. With this though, I dedicate four hours every Tuesday and every Thursday to EMT lecture and lab.On Tuesdays, I have EMT lecture from 6:30pm to 10:30pm.

This Tuesday I arrived in the building at 6:28 and was walking down the correct hall at 6:29 and at 6:29.30 was asking two girls if the seat behind them was taken or not.

The seats in the classroom are on rollers and are not in orderly rows, so it’s hard to tell what seats are still open.

At 6:29.45 I was done with them debating about seats and just sat down as it was rightly now my chair for the next four hours and fifteen seconds.

Throughout the evening, lecture was going well and I was listening and trying my gosh darn best to spell weird terms that I actually might have to know to help some imaginary person in my imaginary future.

The thing that is neat about this course is that it is completely voluntary. It does not count for pre-med or physical health major students whatsoever. This course is all about becoming an EMT just to become an EMT.

That said, throughout the class I happened to be sitting next to Ms. Blurts-A Lot- The-Answers and behind a girl doing homework on her laptop.

I couldn’t help but think about the drastic differences in people I was surrounded by.

Next to me, I found someone that I would probably want as an EMT if I was in trouble- at least, if I had some obscure thing happened to me.

And in front of me, I found someone doing their biology and econ homework whilst we were discussing the difference between cardiac arrest and cardiac failure.

This reminded me of my grandfather’s college lab story of his instructor killing a rabbit during a surgical demonstration- and how he never wanted him to conduct surgery on him.

The same applies to EMTs as to engineers, architects etc.

Before class, I was grumbling because of my own tardiness. During class I was grumbling because of the lowering standard of appreciation of education. And after class I was grumbling because the snow from Jonas the blizzard had turned to brown mushy slush and they ran out of old fashion donuts at Whole Foods.

I think I have come to the right conclusion.

I am a grumpy old man.

But if being a grumpy old man helps me motivate myself to pay attention in class, raise my grades, avoid slush, and eat more donuts, then a grumpy man I am.

Perhaps

1. As I sat white-ing out the answers written in pen from the used workbook I bought, advertised as  

“like new,” I couldn’t help but wonder when I started to become a push-over. 

2. Now as I write this, I am sitting on my bed eating challah bread that ironically reminds me of the communion bread my sister and I gutted every Sunday morning of our childhood.

These are two actions that I know have stories. Perhaps connected, perhaps not. But I don’t know what they are yet.

I often think about starting this blog up again. To be used as a journal for myself that is polished enough for it to be sent out into the world. I get busy, and it falls to the wayside. However, I believe that now, more than in the past, I need to start writing again. And, that’s that. 

Healy

So actually....even though I work in Denali....I live in a town called Healy which is about a 20 minute bus ride away. However, sometimes or a lot of the time there is construction on the one road that links Anchorage to Fairbanks and thus the ride becomes much longer. It's strange having to depend on this shuttle to get to work each day because it runs every hour.
I have become used to public transportation in Thailand where it could come every five minutes or just never. I have become used to public transportation in DC where fifteen long minutes is the worst that could happen. But this hourly shuttle is more like the public transportation I took to Tacoma Community College each day for school. I was either a half hour late or an hour and a half early to class.
Everyone who works for the McKinley Chalet Resort (like me) or Denali Princess Lodge lives in huge dorms that when we move into cause the population in Healy to nearly triple.
There are three possible dorms.
The Homestead which I live in, composed of three floors.
The Shire which has four people per room but their own bathroom....but no wifi.
Cabins which only those working at the photography stand called Sourdough Studio live in....but without running water.....so a cabin and an outhouse.

In the Homestead and in building in back of the resort there are employee dining halls.
There you get what is served and when you can- because if you miss a shuttle- there goes your lunch time too.
It's pretty good food but then again it reminds me of the dinning hall in MASH where the coffee is oil and you take whatever you can get?
In other words, it makes my cafeteria at American look superb.

For instance, on my first day here, there were hamburgers for lunch and hamburgers for dinner as it was memorial day.
Yesterday there was fish and chips...with warm coleslaw- but still I was pumped for fish and chips!

I've lived in dorms since August. Only living in a home during Thanksgiving when I stayed with my friend Maura, winter break, spring break, and the two weeks I just spent at home before coming here. I'm thankful for having a home to come home to, pets, heavy blankets, waffles, and not one ply toilet paper.
This dorm life is worth living in for the adventures I have taken thus far and to come. So I will wait til August to have the ability to choose what I eat again.

Narration

I have completed my first full day in Alaska here in Denali. Far far from civilization- the closest grocery store is a two and a half hour drive to Fairbanks. This is wilderness. I am surrounded by beauty and spectacle but I have lived in cities- major world cities and small towns too. But not small enough towns that the population doubles when the summer workers came into town.
This is different.
The midnight sun is confusing and although days are long and weary, I'm not tired. Even after a full day of plane, taxi, and bus rides yesterday, when it came to 11pm I wasn't wishing to sleep a wink.
Yesterday my five hour bus ride from Anchorage to Denali felt shorter than my three hour flight- probably because it was guided and narrated. And listening to that narration and information I learned quite a bit, which I will share with you all now.
1. The five types of salmon, by common and specific name in size order and how to remember them.
2. How to react to moose and bear attacks.
3. Who Mary Carey was- and met her daughter.
4. The strategy behind the placement of huskies in dog mushing.
5. The story behind why the Iditrarod ends in Nome.
6. How to model the shape of Alaska with my hand.
7. How northern lights are created and when and why we can see them.
8. The two types of spruce trees in Alaska.
9. The watershed that causes rivers to run North or South in Alaska because of the continental divide.
10. How to make a latte.
11. That Houston, AK tied to old oil Houston, TX.
12. A man's fascination with doll goats basically created the Denali National Park.
13. 1 in 6 people in Alaska has a personal pilot's license
14. Ne means land, and na means flowing water in an old native Alaskan tribe.
15. The identification stickers on whether something was Alaskan grown, made, or made by an Alaskan native.

.One day in, spent a lot of time in HR. I have my first shift tomorrow- with a nine hour shift out of the 41 I was scheduled this week.

Oh and I already saw three moose today.

Others

Stretching all our limbs like a soccer mom does to save seats at a sporting event, we roll ourselves out of the car we had been sitting in for three or so hours. Passing through Olympia, Aberdeen, and Humptulips, we finally made the trek to Kalaloch. A Pacific Ocean beach that greeted us with a sign reading “Beach log kills,” turned out to be a beautiful locale. The beach was filled with hundreds of dried Velella jellyfish and huge sandstone rocks that looked like they belonged on the moon. There were caverns, arches, and trees that the ground had fallen out from them, but they stood nonetheless with their roots perched perfectly strong against the sides of fallout.

Upon walking the shore, Ryan mentioned my last “moody little blog post” which I couldn’t help but agree that I should’ve signed “xoxo” in true gossip girl fashion. Alas, I stand by it.

All day long, “Come as you are” by Nirvana was stuck in my head because it was imprinted on the welcome sign to Aberdeen in honor of Kurt Cobain. The whole day I couldn’t help but think of if Kurt had been where I had or if he went to the beaches often at all. Traveling through the city with boarded up windows that intermixed with coffee huts- I tried to fit this all together with what I knew about Nirvana. And it didn’t really mesh- which I guess is what “Come as you are” is about anyway.

Also in Aberdeen, we stopped for coffee.

After an obscurely long wait, we pulled up to the kitschy coffee hut to look at what they offered. There were teas, coffee, extras, and “others”? And that is where it all started.

Under coffee there was the category “Blended” which I assumed in Starbucks terminology meant Frappuccino, hence sounding lovely as I was melting in my seat, pinned down through the windshield by the penetrating sun. Therefore, I ordered a blended coffee. The peppy barista asked me a series of questions as to if I wanted it iced, with espresso shots, what flavor I wanted, if I wanted it chocolatey, if I wanted a Frappuccino thing, etc. It was an ordeal. I just wanted a latte blended together with ice. That’s it. Finally, we both came to a consensus and I was looking forward to be melting alongside my frozen drink in the front seat of Ryan’s car. The barista then was asking her next customer a series of questions on what “iced” entailed.

I suddenly realized that I would soon be in the peppy barista’s position in Alaska.

And also totally clueless.

As much as I love coffee. I don’t know anything about how to make it. I am the classic Seattle hypocrite who’s not from Seattle, claims they are, drinks their coffee, critiques it, and is completely ignorant. BUT! I hope to soon be educated about the topic by becoming a barista….and asking probably a longer series of questions than I was asked that day.

So I will come to Alaska as I did Aberdeen, as I am- a clueless, peppy, and questioning barista that will take ten minutes just to start your order.

Alaska, come as you are, as a friend, as a known enemy- see you in three days.

5/19/15

This morning I woke up angry.

A mood I rarely come across and don't know how to deal with. I felt betrayed and hurt- and thus pissed off.

So I did what I thought was best: to pour myself a cup of coffee bountiful with milk and brown sugar, sit down and write my long abandoned blog.

And here we are.

Part One: President

My friend Mitch and I have determined that we are members of the “Care Too Much Club” which means that we will never turn our friends down. We will always drop everything and be there for whomever, whenever. This however takes a toll that I was unaware of until this morning when I woke up in a twist. So, I would like to formally step down from my post of President of this club and join the “Mutual Caring Society” that is pretty difficult to get into.

Part Two: Frontier

In just five days I will be moving to the great state that is Alaska! There I will be a barista for the McKinley Chalet Resort in Denali until August. I am so incredibly excited and over the moon for the adventures I plan on taking.

Part Three: Un-American

I have had an amazing year in DC and at American University trying out crew and joining a sorority. Oh, and also my classes and professors were the best I could have ever wished for. Even with all my activities, I still felt out of place. Thus, I have applied to transfer schools but will not hear back until late this month.

Part Four: Truth

Sometimes it’s hard to say “They’re missing out” or “Their loss” and actually mean it. I fully intent and logically agree with myself each time I find myself saying these phrases. However, believing in them is a challenge.

Part Five: Apology

This morning I was standing in line at the local pharmacy waiting for a prescription. The woman standing in front of me, who also had parked next to me, wore a lacy cream dress past her knees, ruby pointy flats, a new, navy, Michael Kors handbag, and clean cut blonde bob. After chatting with the pharmacist she turned around to those of us behind her in line chuckling and said, “Sorry, it usually doesn't take this long!”

But I was no fool.

I knew that she asked for probiotics, which needed to be chilled- and that she asked for ice. Her mentioning forgetting her cooler is what lengthened the time of her endeavor. Don’t blame the pharmacy now. I knew the insignificant truth behind her polite and courteous apology. I brushed off the minute of two that I waiting in line while the pharmacist grabbed ice.

This leads me back to waking up so mad this morning. Recently, I've found that I know more than people assume I do. I’m not going to burn bridges but some may mysteriously fall down without a guaranteed explanation.

A note:

Basically this post can be summed up in one sentence from the film, Network (1976) which I watched this year in my cinema course:"I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore."