I saw a squirrel

It's true, I did. I went for a run this evening in the park and I saw a couple squirrels, as well as a great horned owl, and about 30 seconds later, a full grown black bear. First journey into Great Smokey National Park was quite interesting, and I cooked another turkey, this one was only about 12 lbs.

My new hero

This is, for lack of a better word, amazing

Sawfish

Today I got to feed the sawfish. They are some of the goofiest, most retarded looking animals in the world, but they are HUGE. The largest one is about 15 feet long and it's "teeth" are about 3 to 4 inches.

Yesterday I got to feed the eagle ray pups. They're about a foot from wingtip to wingtip, and their tails are about 3 feet long. They come up and eat out of your hand because the other reef fish won't let them get any of the food we throw in so we have to personally deliver it to them. They have a palate that can crush thru oysters and clams, but they are incredibly delicate when you let them suck shrimp and clams out of your fingers.

KWHAT!

Yes, the word Kwhat has begun to see daily usage in my life. Technically it is spelled "quat" as in "quatricide", but who cares?

I realize this is the first post since I started my new job just over a week ago, so here it goes:

The aquarium is amazing. They have so many sand tiger sharks in their big lagoon, as well as about 50 sting rays (cow nosed, spotted eagle, and brown) in a "touch bay" there are pacu that weigh at least 50 lbs, there is a tank with 23 cuttlefish, which are really cool, two giant pacific octupi (the male is not thru quarentine yet, but they hope to breed them) that are about 3 feet across, numerous poison dart frogs, japanese giant spider crabs, sea dragons, ...the list goes on. In January we will begin building the new changing exhibit, this one will be "Deadly Weapons" which means we will be working with blue-ringed octopus (venomous, can kill a person in about 5 minutes), cone snail (venomous, they launch a harpoon-like tooth to catch and kill fish, potentially fatal to humans) as well as stinging jellyfish, venomous fish, electric eels, and other fun animals. It starts in February some time if you want to come see it.

Hectic

Well, I landed in Newark and was greeted by
a)20 degree weather
2)snow
c)the fact that my bag got sidetracked in Seattle

My bag was returned to me the day I left West Virginia, and I spent the day driving, and I'm now in Tennessee. Crashing at my friend Kevin's apartment for a (hopefully)very short time because the water heater in the apartment I was going to rent exploded, so the floor is wet. Hopefully I can move in very shortly.

I spent a couple hours walking around my new job, and it looks AWESOME! There are several sharks about 10 feet long, some sawfish (which are one of the most amazing looking fish ever) that are 15 feet long, and in general, the place looks pretty amazing. I'm excited. Check out their website if you're curioius.

T- Minus 7...

In a week, I will be leaving. I've quit my job(s), turn in my 2 weeks, booked my flights, and I'm off to Tennessee. I've just turned 25, I'm going to be an uncle, I have an insane urge to write stories, and tomorrow I'm cooking for 14 house mates (there's currently a 15lb turkey brining in a garbage bag in the bathtub, and a 25lb turkey thawing in the washroom sink). We'll see how it works out. I need to fix my computer so I can go back to writing those 2 stories I have slowly bouncing around and gathering brain-fluff the way a carelessly dropped snowball gathers more and more flakes until it turns into an avalanche that crushes small unsuspecting Swiss villages. Plural. I spent this day off movie-hopping. I paid to see Bolt, an entertaining animated bit, walked out of that just as the new Bond movie was starting, walked into that, and left that about 5 minutes after Australia began, but that 5 minutes didn't really matter all that much, it turns out. All of them were decent movies, but despite the fact that this seems to be the first 007 movie to actually be a direct sequel to its predecessor, it was the weakest link in this afternoon's lineup. Not enough Bond-oriented gadgets and far too much ambient generic technology.

anyway, that appears to be all for now, despite the fact that I have not said much since the day before my birthday. Major life update: I've decided to take the job offer and work with sharks, in case you hadn't already been informed.

Birthdays and other such nonsense

Come tomorrow morn, I will be half way to 50 years old. A quarter century. Time to have my quarter-life crisis, and as if on cue, it appears. Despite the fact that I'm in Hawaii, and have said that I will remain here until mid-January, I've just been offered a paying (yes, you heard that right, PAYING) job. $19,000 for the first year, and a raise to $24,000 after the first year. Benefits and such, and I'd live in Tennesee and work next to a national park where I could camp and bike and fish and such.

What to do?

Also, I'm going to go play with a sea lion tomorrow morning.

Suggestions?

The Other Side of the Story

This is an idea I had while running to work at 5:30 one morning. It's not complete yet by any means, but I wanted to write some of it before I forgot it. It's a little long and the words are pretentious, but sometimes it just happens that way.


Creation
In darkness was naught, and then Spake He the Word. The Word still rang in our ears as we opened our eyes. The Word echoed and repeated, reverberating in my very being. I was. I AM. Fivescore and eleven were we, and each a study in perfection. Delicate of feature, bright of eye, and stout of wing
And I, above all, I the most beautiful. My feathers shon as the sun and my eyes held the night. My mind as bright and eager as dawn and my love and compassion as quiet and deep as dusk. I the most beautiful, I the most powerful, I the leader of the host, I the Morningstar. I Lucifer.
And in our awakening we knew, and knowing did we come to love our Creator. Perfection were we, but beyond perfect was He. Blinding to behold and deafening to hear, our minds did balk at His Words, but hear them we must. Heed them we must. And we obeyed. We obeyed and we awoke
With our awakening did we come to know our world, and knowing it did we love it, for truely it was beauty. Artfully and masterfully crafted, it was beauty. Then Spake He to Us: "Go forth and dominate. Prosper as you will and serve as you can." And thus did we obey.

Guardians
That which fell to me was Justice. For Justice and Law stood I, but Justice above all else. Mine was the Truth and the Justice, and guarded these ideals did I. As the strongest and highest, thus was my calling, and Justice did I guard.
Beneath me stood Michael of Command and Selaphiel of Faith. And Barachiel of Peace, and Gabriel of Might. And Jeremiel of Glory and Jesudiel the Hearld. And Uriel of Vengence and Raphiel of Knowledge. Oh, Raphiel of Knowledge
Wisest was he, and fullest of care. Wisest was he, for his was the knowledge of the Creator. Answered these Eight to Me, and to the Eight spoke I, for in our hands was the balance of all. For in our hands rested Creation. From the Creator was given to us dominion over His Creation.
With Peace and Glory ruled the Eight, with Vengence and Faith. Ruled they with Command and Might and Voice and Knowledge. Always ruled they with Knowledge. Of temperance and care spoke Raphiel, of knowledge and reason spoke he. This voice of reason I heeded, this voice above all else. I heeded this voice of knowledge.

First of 2 tonight

I just watched Barak Obama's victory speech. It was pleasant to listen to a man who could pronounce most nay, ALL of his words correctly; to listen to someone who could spend nearly 15 minutes talking and not once utter the work "nuclear" or, more importantly "nuculear". Watching his speech and reflecting, his style and crowd participation put me in mind of one JFK. A friend of mine, my freshman year at Vassar said to me: Have you heard about this junior senator from Illinois? Watch some of his speeches some time, I think we're going to be seeing more of him soon." While those may not have been his exact words, they are the general idea, and I think I may owe that guy a bit of money because I might have said something along the lines of "It'll be a bit longer than that before America has become liberal enough to elect a minority president." Apparently I was wrong.

Grrrrr...

Imagine the perfect weekend. I didn't have it. My landlord appears to be not going to repay me my $600 security deposit because he's going bankrupt, my computer's logic board has fried...for a second time, and this time it's not under warrenty so it's going to take about $310 to ship it off to California and get it replaced. Hurray! Hope everyone else is having a better week.

Big Plans

I have them. Yes I do. At the moment, there are plans in the works to map out and perpetrate a bicycle ride around the island of O'ahu. This is made more difficult by the fact that I don't have my bike here, but there is a store nearby that will rent me a road bike in my size for a (somewhat) reasonable price. After a little searching for routes to take, I've finally settled on one that is about 14o miles long and includes a hike that is approximately 5 miles thru a state park/game land on the northwest corner. That might actually be a nice place to spend the night now that I think about it. I wonder if I could find anyone who wants to go with me. I would also be traveling without a tent during the rainy season, but perhaps camping on the leeward side would protect me from the torrential downpours that seem to be a nightly (and daily) occurance 'round these parts. I wonder if I can pull this off, because it would be fun. Maybe I can get my dad to come bike with me. He's retired now, or so I hear. He even went fishing the other day.

Because I found it funny, that's why.

The soap dispenser in the bathroom at work is broken. The only way to get soap out of it is to squeeze it in a motion IDENTICAL to the one you would make if you were milking a cow.

Ephemeral Encounter

I saw a girl on the bus today
Her beauty passing fair
When she smiled I’d not look away
Her face framed with honeyed hair

I spoke not to her on this day
But doubt I’ll soon forget
All the things one cannot say
To those one hasn't met

To the woman I may never know
Thank you for the way
You made the world turn so slow
Tho I had naught to say

I'm big in Japan.

Today I got to be in a show! We were late getting in for the first interaction, and so we were short staffed during the first JTB (Japanese Travel[or Tourism, I forget which] Bureau). A JTB program is when a bunch of Japanese tourists pile off a bus, come in, and watch a 10 minute program. (Hence the derogatory name Japanese Tour Bus) Because we were short staffed, I and one of the other interns were pulled away from scrubbing coolers and enlisted to help control the dolphins that would be used. I ended up with Laka, a blind retired Navy dolphin, and one of the oldest animals at the park. She can't see at all, and so all her commands are done by touching certain parts of her body. For example, to make her vocalize, you have to stroke the area on the left side of her melon between her eye and blowhole. To make her hula dance, you have to draw a small circle on her head, etc. So, we got to perform for a bunch of Japanese tourists, and by Jove, it was FUN. Also, I am a big fan of Tim's collaborative fiction project if you have not heard of it, check it out. Contributing authors as of this moment are Tim, Mooney, and myself, but I'm sure this will grow rapidly in the very near future.

http://collaborativefiction.blogspot.com/

Mission: Productivity. Status: SUCCESS!

Well, this weekend I had my first days off in about a month. In fact, I had three of them. In a row. First day was spent with you typical lounging around, beach napping, and reading, but the second day, woooooBOY!

8am: wake up
9am: get on bus, go to bank, deposit check, pick up prescription for roommate
10am: eat breakfast at Boots & Kimo's, a famous local breakfast place
11am: get back on the bus, go to Honolulu, get off at Ala Moana Center, and wander around the 4 story outdoor mall with KOI PONDS inside.
12pm: stop off at Swatch store to see if they can fix my watch pin problem. They not only do so, but they also clean it and re-size it for free!
1230pm: Go to the body exhibit. Walk thru the skeletal system, respiratory system, circulatory system, nervous system, look at a body sliced into about 1oo different parts. It is AWESOME. Sadly, pictures were not allowed
2pm:Go to the bookstore
3pm: leave the bookstore
310pm: pick up watch, go have a wonderfully spicy burger and a beer while reading my new book that I picked up. Also talked to my parents for about half an hour. That was nice.
4pm: Walk into the Honolulu Zoo. I get in for $4 because I'm a "local".
5pm: get chased out of the zoo because they are closing
7pm: get home, eat dinner. Productivity successful.

Oh, and the other night I was mistaken by a local for his friend's son. Apparently I don't look like a haole too much. Probably because I'm not blond.

In other news, THIS is really kinda funny if it's true.

And now for something completely different. . .

. . .A praying mantis in a party hat.

Safety Dance

Today was fun. I got to do some of my first Phase 2 stuff. During our first dolphin interaction of the morning at 10am, the head of the training department asked all of us interns if we'd passed our Phase 1 test (which we had) and then told us to grab a cooler for each animal that was doing the interaction. He then took us to the back of the pool where we proceeded to be the "Safety Trainer". Safety trainer is the person who takes control of the dolphins when a trainer needs a moment to work with the guests, to get them into position, or just wants them to focus on the trainer and not the dolphin for a moment, so they send the dolphin across the pool to someone else who plays with them or feeds them. About half-way thru the program, the other two interns had to go to fish class, so I was left alone with the head of the training department, doing A->B's with 25 guests and 4 animals, including the wolphin baby in the water. That was the high point of the day. Other notable points include when I dropped a 75lb wooden platform onto my toe. I probably won't lose my toenail because I spent about half an hour squeezing blood out from under it in order to prevent a pressure buildup that will pop the nail off, so...here's hoping. Despite the plummeting platform, I had a fun day, and I don't have to be at the cookie shop until noon tomorrow, so hurray for sleeping in.

Why is it...?

Why is it that no one is interested in 8pm stealth pastry liberation?

A tale of loss, love, and little else.

Hoss was feeling low. It was three days since Ol' Roy had wandered out of the stable and Hoss just wasn't the same with out Ol' Roy. He'd walked into the nearest saloon and crawled deep into the first bottle of whiskey he could find and had been pickleing hisself drunk ever since then. Ol' Roy had never abandoned him before. Not like this.

Ol' Roy had heard the news thru the feed-trough grapevine. The love of his life was finally back. It'd been years since he'd heard from her, and now she would be passing thru Windy Point which was just 12 miles west. Ol' Roy hadn't had to think twice; he'd slipped his hitchin' post and galloped toward the setting sun.

Tabitha blithly followed the tail of the animal in front of her. The drapery and fanciful embroidery glittered gold in the blistering sun. Tabitha was unimpressed with the endless desert and the scortching sun and the tumbling tumbleweeds. Tabitha was a city lass, accustomed to posh surroundings: paved streets, indoor plumbing, and storm drains. Parasols and wingtips were more scarce in these parts than a gold miner with 32 teeth.

Hoss drunkenly swung his fist at the blurry piano player. The man jumped back while the owner of the saloon deftly scooped Hoss under the armpits and unceremoniously tossed him into the street. The sun had sunk low and night was fast approaching. Hoisting himself to his feet, Hoss staggered into the stable and passed out in the hay.

Ol' Roy ran on into the night, the stars guiding his way. As the night wore on and a rosy hue began to illuminate the horizon behind him, Ol' Roy knew he had to hurry. Only 3 more miles to go, but the sun hearlded the imminent arrival of the love of his life.

Tabitha turned her head and squinted into the rising sun. A cloud of dust was growing in the distance. Shielding her face with her long grey trunk, Tabitha tried to make out the cause of the disturbance, but her vision was not what it once was. After all, elephants could live for many years, and Tabitha was the oldest in her herd.

Instruction manual

Well, in a little less than 4 months, it seems that I will be an uncle. Sugar and spice and everything nice is coming to my brother and his wife, and around about mid-January, I shall forever become Uncle Justin to someone. This is through no choice of my own, but responsibilities are tacked onto this title, the implications of which are far-and-wide-reaching. Perhaps nieces should come with an instruction manual on how to be everything you liked about your uncles while still being a unique and entertaining individual. What will this little lass expect of me? Clearly not much for the first several years of her life, but AFTER that, thank-you-very-much. I didn't volunteer for this, but I'm kind of looking forward to it. It's like practice: "warp your older brother's children while you practice for your own!" or maybe "Niece: like the real thing, but you can send it back." Jeez, what kind of things is this child going to be exposed to from me? I don't know, but I'd like to apologize to Trevor and Kim in advance.

Apparently...

Apparently I'm a professional model now. Today I was dragged away from my area to do a photo shoot for the new website for Sea Life Park and we got to play with a sea lion. Sea lion kisses smell like fish, for those of you who are curious, and getting an extended kiss from one is akin to sticking your head into an aquarium. A very whiskery aquarium. A very whiskery aquarium with sharp teeth. Any way, the point is, I may soon be world famous as "that guy who is doing the sea lion interaction on the Sea Life Park web site". I also got to play with two baby dolphins today, one time it was even in the water with a baby and her mother. Little Adella is a pudge-0. A fat, round, rolly-polly little baby dolphin.

Part 5

For those of you who remember/follow my short story, here is another installment.

I thought about the sleeping pills that I’d been prescribed last year for my insomnia, but decided against it; I’d fall asleep sooner or later. Maybe some exercise would work. I got my shoes on and went looking for my dog. After a brief stop at the neighbor’s house to see if he had seen my absent animal (he had not), I set off toward the park, hoping that my canine compadre could be found there. Walking amongst the greenery, despite the trimmed trees and pampered petunias, my thoughts drifted to my primordial forest of my mind. Why would my subconscious conjure up this verdant delusion every time I fell asleep? What did it have to do with my writing and my ideas? Was there some way I could gain access to this apparently untapped font of ideas while awake? I walked through the park, my mind elsewhere, absently searching for the dog, but no progress was made on either front. I returned home hungry, confused and without my dog.
I reached for the phone to dial the housekeeper’s number, but after a few seconds of ringing on the other end, I was informed that my party could not be reached, but if I cared to, I could leave my name, number and a short message. I did so. No progress. I lay down on the couch to consider my next course of action. The late summer sun was faint and a gentle breeze was wending its way through my living room, and as easily as that, I drifted off to sleep.
Richard Nixon greeted me at the entrance of the Taj Mahal. His dress was slightly askew, and was clearly cut a few sizes too large for his frame. The hors d'oeuvres were ready, but the band need a few more minutes to get the sound set up correctly. The guests were happily intoxicated, but Elton John was swinging gaily on the chandelier and refused to come down. I was about to order Tricky Dick to cut the rope and let Sir Elton crash raucously to the tiles of the ballroom when the phone began to peal stridently next to my head. I groggily dragged myself out of my nonsensical dream and answered the phone with a hearty “Mmmph?”.
“This is Jacob Lewis, Audrey’s husband. I’m calling all her clients to see if she’s been in today.”
“Well Jake, I can tell you that she definitely came through here earlier today before I woke up.”
“So she was there, but you didn’t see her?”
“That’s correct.”
“Thank you for your help.”
“Any time. When you get ahold of her, can you ask her if she’s seen my dog?”
With that, I hung the phone up and sat up on the sofa. Apparently my dreams were not all significant. Exhibit A for the prosecution: Richard Nixon in a muumuu. Well, maybe I could find a story in that some time.
I spent the next four hours trying to cobble together a short story about Richard Nixon in drag reprimanding a swashbuckling Elton John for his buccaneer tactics, but the nonsensical nature was defeating me, and so shortly after one in the morning, I turned off my computer and succumbed to sleep once again.

Champions, cookies, and chimpanzees

My team lead/area supervisor is a champion. The other day we were at work, and a car was coming toward us as we walked down the middle of the road. I automatically went "Caaar!" and we stepped out of the way. As the car passed us, I opened my mouth to say "Game on!" (which is something I've been doing to my roommates since I got here, much to their confusion), when my boss beat me to it. That combined with the fact that he is taller than me and an triathlete wins all kinds of respect with me. He's a nice guy too.

I started working in the cookie shop today, and it smelled nice. The job is far from exciting, but it pays, which is something that my other job is decidedly lacking. I also get fringe benefits, such as eating the "deformed" cookies (i.e. those that have fused to another) and the "burnt" ones (i.e. the ones that are a bit too brown, but still delicious).

Sadly, there have been no chimpanzees. I just felt that the title needed a third word to make it sound neater.

Tiberius

Tiberius the Turtle was discontent. He'd been training for weeks, yet his times had not improved. If he were to be a Competitor in this years Turlympics, he would have to cut at least three seconds off of his time. Rory the Rabbit was watching and critiquing from the sidelines.
"Keep your feet in, the straighter you move, the faster you move."
"You shut your mouth you nap nabbing numbskull!" Tiberius retorted. He was tired of his coach's advice, which he seldom backed up with experience. After all, hadn't Tiberius bested Rory in the recent competition that had been arbitrated by Aesop? What could Rory teach him that he didn't already know? The principles of aerodynamics were on his side. His shell was a miracle of modern engineering, practically designed for high-speed travel but his body refused to removed the required seconds that would get him into the trials. Would training be enough? Perhaps it was time for some pharmaceutical help...

Bus Mojo and Cookies

Over the last 2 days, I have not waited more than 5 minutes for a bus. This isn't particularly impressive until you realize that the bus system in Hawaii is not exactly the type that operates on time. They have a schedule, but it's nothing more than a vague suggestion as to when you should show up at the bus stop. I have waited over an hour for a bus that is supposed to come every 35 minutes only to have one pull in just as I am walking out of range to catch it.

In other news, I now work at a cookie store. That's right, I play with dolphins and bake cookies. I also live in Hawaii. Suck it!

Hurray for life.

Edit: I also got a date tonight. When you're on a roll, you're on a roll...

I like a man who can handle his meat...

Rupert was an expert. He’d been doing this for years and in that time, not once single person had surpassed him in his chosen field. His hands held the knife steady; his strokes where swift and straight. The flesh peeled away from the bone in wafer thin slices and fell into his hand. With deft movements, he cradled the cold meat in his palm and placed it gently in the bun. It was a good day to be a sandwich maker.

House, beach, and jelly fish

Portuguese man o' wars SUCK! It's true. The little drifting bastards have all the intelligence of a fern and about the same amount of control over their own locomotion. Sadly, they have much better defenses than your average plant: they sting like a BITCH! If you've ever been stung by stinging nettle, it's similar in sensation, but about twice as intense. I was wading in the ocean the other day and one was washed against the back of my knee. After this less-than-enjoyable experience, I promptly exited the water via the nearest bit of sand, and with a bit of creative swearing, rubbed my leg with said sand. I also had one of them bounce down from my shoulder to my wrist to my foot, where it got stuck. Hurray. In other news, here is a picture of me and several of my roommates, at least the ones where were awake and mobile at the time I felt like taking a picture.

New house, new bed, same roommates

Well, we moved into our permanent (read: 5 month) residence tonight. I have fish prep at 6am tomorrow, so I should go to sleep. My new bedroom is attached to 2 bathrooms and the kitchen (by a nifty little hatch. I can have breakfast shoved thru to me OR order an alcoholic beverage from the live-in bar tender [I wish]) I'll put up pictures or something some time. Until that day arrives, goodnight everyone, and stay classy.

Hawaii

Well, I've made it. I've been here for just over a week now, and things are going pretty damn well. Email me if you want any specific details. Work is going pretty well, but my feet are too big and they don't have any boots to fit me, so I'm not allowed to do fish prep until they get some size 13's. There are a few new facebook pictures for those of you who are part of that. Right now we're camping on the floor of Uncle Joe's (don't ask, he's a local hero and a nice guy) and we get to move into our beach house the 25th. "Beach House" is a bit of a mis-gnomer (GNOME SORCERY!) because to be fair, the place is a good 100 yards from the beach. Let me tell you, that's a really long way. There are mountains and an ocean, my two favorite terrain types. I need to try to hike up to the top of the mountains in our back yard, but they are extremely steep. Anyway, more to come when we move into the house.

Los Angeles

Well, I made it LA, and it is big. I'm visiting with Mr. Roo and Miss Sally, and I swam in the new ocean. New ocean is cold. Pictures for those of you who know these wonderful peoples. I leave for Hawaii tomorrow and get there about 6pm east coast time and noon my (new) time. Sleep deprivation makes for odd grammer.

Update

Batman: The Dark Knight = Awesome. That is all.

Leaving Town

Last post from Miami folks. Tonight is officially my last night in Florida. I've quit my job, packed my car, cleaned my room, and sold my furniture to my roommate. Tomorrow morning, I'm going to try to turn in my C-pass (it gets me thru the toll gates to get over the bridge to work) for my $40 deposit back, and start heading north. Googlemaps says that it's a 16 hour drive from here to Spencer, WV. Excitement shall ensue.

The Plan
July 16-17th: Drive from Miami-->West Virginia
July 18th: Ride/Drive with parents from West Virginia-->Pennsylvania
July 20-26th: Camp with family in Canada
July 26-Aug.7th-ish: Visit people in the greater northeast area; family, friends, and enemies.
Aug.7th: Fly to Seattle or Los Angeles, depending on several factors
Aug. 8th: Visit people at aforementioned location.
Aug. 9th: Fly to Hawaii, move into new place, start looking for a job.
Aug. 11th: Start my full time, unpaid job. (Don't worry, they give me free lunch)

That is a tentative itinerary for those of you who care.

Alliterative adjectives: An Ode to the Hamburger

when caddy children contract cholera there comes a consensus to continue the course to carry the cuisine that captures the concentration of cattle. this meaty mass that's masticated manfully by many mouths manages to make most masculine of men mumble. bread begins the basic barrier that bars the burger from bursting. this circular singularity cinches the scrumptious center from sliding and slipping while wrapping this wondrous wealth with wheat. the ketchup is kept in the cupboard in the kitchen and mustard is made by many-a-maid. pickles are placed with precision and pride while lettuce is left to languish. tomato tops this tasty tower.

Two Weeks

I just put in my two week resignation notice at work today. Why I'm quitting a job that I like that has a future and that pays me, I'm not sure, but I'm moving to Hawaii. Moving to work at a 5 month temporary job that may or may not hire me permanently when it's done. But hey, I get to work with sea lions.

p.s. Make any and all checks out to Justin Mertz. I'm going to need some money for this one.

Jobs

So while I've been pondering my possible future of living in Hawaii for 6 months, some friends of mine (people who you can read about through those handy little links to the right) have been cooking some hairbrained scheme: "A Different Spin: East Coast". Although this is clearly not what it would be called (I hope), that at least conveys the idea. For those of you that don't know, A Different Spin is a circus troupe formed by several of my classmates from Vassar out in San Fransisco area. Juggling, fire manipulation, magic and the like. I got asked today if I would be interested in doing this with them, and the answer is, of course, an almost unmitigated "Yes, God, YES!" However...

Yes, "however" has reared it's ugly head. "However", I may be moving to Hawaii. But I love to juggle. And regardless of how little it would pay, I would be earning more than if I went to Hawaii. "However", can I possibly base a life-long career on juggling? Am I/are we potentially good enough to do that? Maybe not even a life-long one, just one that lasts a while. What would we do after that, "however"? Even if that wasn't possible, it would be fun for a while. Doing something I like with people that I like. Is there a downside?

Late nights

Well, it turns out that I like the ocean. I was at work from midnight to 10am today and despite the fact that a moderately torrential downpour was occurring between 1 and 3am, it was fairly relaxing. Watching a baby manatee sleep has that effect. After the rain stopped but the wind was still going pretty well, I was walking around looking at Miami across the bay and it was actually fairly pretty, which is a strange thing to say about any city. Maybe the fact that I couldn't hear it because it was so far away helped, or that I had been awake for almost 20 hours and my eyesight was starting to blur, but it was neat. Oh, and the manatee is absurdly cute.

Propaganda

Well, I found this, and it's 2 hours long, but I ended up watching the whole thing. These guys make Michael Moore look like a conservative Republican-hugging cheerleader, but there are some very interesting points. Watch it if you want. If you believe it all, it's more terrifying than any zombie movie I've ever seen.

http://www.zeitgeistmovie.com/main.htm

Homeless in Hawaii

Of late, I've been seriously considering the possibility of living on the beach in Hawaii while working at an unpaid internship. I found these really cool hammocks that are actually tents which would protect me from above AND below, and they cost about $200. That's less than one month's rent. I could get a fishing rod, build a fire, and eat coconuts. A hunter/gatherer grocery list. There are mongooses....mongeese.....mongi...? that run wild on the island, perhaps they would be tasty to trap and eat. I would be able to camp across the street from the place I want to work, there are public beach showers, and a homeless license (wow....that looks really weird, by nothing else is recognized by my spell check) costs $1/year.
Tell me that tent doesn't look awesome, and you'd be a gol'durn liar.

Done with Miami

I think I'm done with Miami. It is hot, it is humid, it is expensive, and it is crowded. My lease is up in June, so maybe I'll come back north to the land of Reasonable Temperatures, work for a few months, and then move to Hawaii. Seriously. There is an internship there working with marine mammals, which, I've decided, are much cooler than fish. Sorry, but they are. I know a guy who used to work at the place, I have experience in the field, what I don't have is money to support myself through the course of a 4 month unpaid internship, so I'm going to have to make some, and that isn't really possible here in Miami saying as how 80% of my pay each month goes toward rent, 15% goes toward food, and 5% just disappears somehow into that bottomless pit that is called "life". I could be a live-in nanny in Nantucket. Nantucket Nanny. Hmmm...

in other news: Happy Mother's Day all you moms out there, especially mine. Thanks for everything, like paying for my gas, helping me find a couch, making me dinner every time I come home (as rare as it is), and especially for supporting me regardless of how bizarre my choices in life become, and THAT'S a pretty big accomplishment.

Founder's Day

The traditions we observe: a well-rehearsed dance
Wake up, get started, and put on your pants
Breakfast is done with companions so dear
And when all is prepared we raise up our beer

Drink up for the founder, drink deep and drink long
Drink up for Matt Vassar and join in my song.
The sun is rising; the day has begun
Drink up for the founder and join in the fun.

With no time to spare, for we’re already late
We make our way out to meet with our fate
What does this day hold for our veteran corps
We’ve met with it all and triumphed before

Drink up for the founder, drink deep and drink long
Drink up for Matt Vassar and join in my song
The sun is rising; the day has begun
Drink up for the founder; come play in the sun

The grass is so green and the beer truck is near
Founder’s Day comes but once every year
Class and work are both far away
Let them both go and enjoy this one day

Drink up for the founder, drink deep and drink long
Drink up for Matt Vassar and join in my song
The sun is setting, the day it is done
Drink up for the founder; the night has begun!

Traditions

Traditions are a strange and unusual beast. Take this very moment for example. It is not yet 10 in the morning, and I have consumed several celebratory beverages in honor of Founder's Day. Matthew Vassar, the founder of my Alma Matter, was born near this time, and every year, the first weekend in May, we honor his dedication to the education of young feminists in the mid/late 1800's by drinking a lot. To be fair, the man was a beer brewer, and if women's education hadn't succeeded, he was going to turn the whole college into a beer brewery, so this seems reasonable. So there is established college tradition. But each group of people have their own individual Founder's Day traditions. Take my group of friends (please!) for example: every year for quite some time we have concocted shirts of varying shades of hideously bright in order to be able to find each other despite the thick crowds that gather to honor the founder, and this year is no different. This year, we have a Spartan with a toothbrush (the theme is Candyland...BRUSH YOUR TEEEEEEEEETH!!) and a ridiculously cute molasses creature named Plumpy from the Candyland game. There was also a Limit sketch comedy show last night, and traditions were observed while watching this insanity. It's just strange how certain habits begin, and how they perpetuate themselves through social memes and through the actions of our friends. A quote that I enjoy in this situation is: "Without tradition, we'd be forced to rely on logic and free thought, and who wants that?" (Bear in mind, this was said in a facetious tone of text) and it was said by one of the world's great thinkers...ME! So, happy Founder's Day all you Vassar students/grads (many of whom I've just slept on the floor with), enjoy this cold, cloudy, slightly damp day as much as you can, and raise a glass of beer and sign a song in honor of our good old founder, Matthew Vassar. Happy birthday Matt.

See you on the other side,
Justin

Kidney punched by a planet

Well, Saturdays are usually one of my easy days to get to work. The rest of the world is sleeping in while I am up and about at my usual time. I get to work, and get on with my day. Today, however, things did not go as planned. About 3 miles from work, I ran into traffic. And it didn't stop. I took over an hour to go 2 of the last 3 miles, and then took about 5 minutes to go the last mile because I parked my car at the beach parking lot, and got out and ran to work so I could get there before lunch.

After an eventful morning of scrubbing, I was getting out of one pool and preparing to sit on the ledge and rest for a moment, however, gravity had different plans for me: I missed my target by about 2 inches and fell flat on my back with my weight belt still around my waist. One of the 4lb lead weights was smacked into my left kidney, essentially making the planet Earth kidney punch me. It was hilarious at the time, and my scrubbing partner and I almost killed ourselves laughing, and then I tried to sit up, and realized how painful the rest of my day was going to be because I could no longer bend over to pick things up. WHOOPIE! Oh, and I had to go fill 15 air tanks about an hour later.

World 1, Justin 0
Have to do better tomorrow.

Founder's Day

It has been much on my mind that we don't have shirts for Founder's Day: 2008, and this would be a tragedy to rival the cancellation of The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr. We must rally the troops and get a shirt design together, PRONTO. My contribution at the moment is the scary children from this picture. Boys for the guys, girls for the ladies.
Please disregard the creepy picture of R. Kelly in the background, he is irrelevant and this is the only picture of the Candyland Kids I could find. Please input ideas so that this does not become the plan.

Update

Plane tickets have been purchased from Miami to New York and back. I will be arriving in Laguardia at 12:30pm on May 1st. That is all. See some of you soon.

Poked and Prodded

After recieving and seeing several comments about the amount of time it has been since I've said anything, I shall commence to do so....now:

My computer is currently down with logic board problems. It went to sleep and didn't wake up. I guess the combonation of sleeping pills and wine were just too much for it. It is being sent to Apple Corp, where hopefully they will replace it (the logic board) free of charge because of the lovely 1 year warrenty. I saw a delightfully tacky magic show this saturday with decidedly homosexual overtones (hey, it was on Miami Beach, what do you expect). Not only that, we got in for free because we were 40 minutes late, and they didn't take our tickets, so I may go back again next weekend just to catch the beginning of the show. Yesterday I biked to South Beach, read a book in the sand, and got turned a pretty shade that Mercutio would be jealous of. I guess I didn't realize how completely white I'd become over the winter (or what passes for it in Miami) and now I'm paying for my idiocy. In other news, preperations are being made to attend Founder's Day. I've found but not booked my flights yet, requested 5 days off (1 for flying up, 1 for visiting, 1 for Founder's Day, 1 for recovery from Founder's Day, and 1 for flying back here). Jeremy, if you want to drive from a New York airport, I'll help and pay for half the gas between Manhattan and Poughkeepsie. You'll have to arrange your own days off.

Until next time, remember everybody: WEAR SUNSCREEN!

Easter Egg Hunt: Miami Style

So, it's Easter weekend. Happy J.C. rolls the rock day, everyone. (We can't ever leave the influence of our friends. Sometimes it can be pretty obvious.) This weekend is a big thing at work, and the field behind the sea lion stadium looks like Vassar on Founder's Day, but without the beer truck or the hookahs. There is a carnival, kids running every which-way, music, food, and good ol' fashioned fun. I even got to partake in an animal care Easter Egg hunt, which is decidedly the most nerve racking one of it's kind that I have ever been on. It's kinda like playing Aliens in the woods by Sunset Lake: you're trying to look in 20 different directions at once and make sure nothing comes close enough to touch you. We went into the crocodile paddock to remove some unfertilized eggs that one of the crocs had laid and to rake up the fallen palm fronds and leaves. To do this, two people had to go in with (quite literally) 10 foot poles with padded ends and poke the 400+ lb reptiles in the head/butt to get them to move out of the way of the people who were carrying the rakes/trashbags. I got a pole. I also got to witness how to deal with a charging crocodile and we found a crocodile tooth on the ground. It was pretty freakin' cool. I kept an eye on the crocodiles while the work was going on, and made sure that none got close enough to charge anyone. It was a good day, even with the rain.

Working out, Caffeine, St. Patrick's Day, and Maiming

Each in their own time

Working out
So, the other day, I thought it would be a good day to bike to work, so I hopped on my bike at 8 of the clock, and rode there. After I arrived, I was informed that the person who was supposed to do half of the scrubbing had called in sick. Now, scrubbing involves man-handling a 40lb piece of stainless steel and fiberglass that rotates at about 60 RPM around the inside of an underwater pool and cleaning all the algae off every surface. So, I had to do about 4 hours of scrubbing by myself. In the middle of this 4 hours, I had to go get more air tanks, because SCUBA diving requires breathing, so filling 16 air tanks (each weighing in at about 35-40 lbs) was required of me. After all that, I had to bike the 8 or so miles home.

Caffeine:
After I got home from this day from hell, my roommates friends, who were visiting, decided they all wanted to go out for the evening, so I decided to go with them. We had some fun, we goofed off, and I got home at 1am. The next day at work, after all this, I was feeling the exhaustion from the previous day's exertion, so I decided to try some iced coffee. Now, I consider coffee to be the Devil's Drink, and will avoid it whenever possible. However, this time, it wasn't that bad. I think I'm on the path to damnation. I made it thru that day utilizing only caffeine and sheer determination. It was epic.

St. Patrick's Day:
This one's for the boys- Tim proposed a challenge of sorts on his blog, to which I must respond. Finding of St. Patty's Day related videos, and I found a good one that makes me think of all my friends, many of whom have their own blogs and might eventually find this.


Maiming:
So, at St. Patty's Day street party, a friend of mine showed up with her boyfriend, who comprises half of the list of "people in the world Justin would literally take a baseball bat to". Now, this may seem rather harsh, until you realize that this guy has beat the shit out of my friend about 4 times. He's tried to run her over with his car, he's tried to drag her down some concrete steps, she's come to me for protection, and she's had him arrested, but every single time, she's ended up with this #$%#$%$^&^*(*()%$#@@er again. After all this crap, she's gone back to him 3 times. Near the end of our celebrations, she showed up and hung out around us with this human being whom I have seriously considered introducing to a piece of lumber. It was a bad end to a good evening.

CFC>KFC

Yes, it's true. The fried chicken has gone international. Now not only do hillbillies way back in the wood of the Appalachian Mountains fry their birds is fattening oil, but now the Cubans do too. Not only that, they do it BETTER! I went in to get my oil changed, they were overworked, and I was informed that it would take them about 2 hours, so I went for a walk in Little Havana. I found a nice little Cuban restaurant, ordered in Spanish, got my chicken, and then the mechanic who was supposed to be working on my car came in and had lunch at the table right next to mine. I smiled and waved, he waved back. Yatta, yatta...A plus side of me catching him not working on my car was that he didn't charge me for the brake inspection, which was nice.

Today, I was at work, and the keepers were weighing the birds, and the girl taking them off their perches couldn't reach one of the cockatoos, so I tried to help her. The bird was NOT interested in stepping off his perch. I tried to pick him up with my right hand, he grabbed my finger with his beak, and very carefully pushed it away. I tried to pick him up with my left hand, and he very gently grabbed it with his beak, pushed it away, and we repeated this for about 10 seconds. (bear in mind that he can bite thru wood, nuts, and without much effort, my finger, so he was being very careful) When I stopped and looked at him, he made a little chuckling sound and bent his head down to be scratched. We repeated this dance about 4 times, him chuckling his feathery little pink ass off each time I stopped. I'd scratch his head, and he'd ruffle his feathers and make little squeaky sounds, and then we'd try again. Finally, I managed to get him down, the keepers got him weighed, and then they put him back up in his perch. Freakin' birds.

Oh, and this

Oh, and this was sent to me today by a friend. She thought the face looked like me, and it was close enough to make me laugh.

Gone Fishin'

Well, there was an Outing planned for yestereve, and fishing was the goal. We gathered upon the Southern Beach, and after a brief debacle with #$%^ING valets (I mean HONESTLY, can't I park my own gol-darn car, thank you very much, and on top of that, they take your money and force you to leave your keys so they can peruse the contents of your car at their leisure. HA! Jokes on them, my car contains mostly junk, some funky-smelling fishy clothes, as well as some quarts of oil. Nothing valued over about $3.17, not even the $5 bill on the visor, that's counterfeit.)

HOWEVER, that's not the point. I hate valets is the point. And there it's such a chore to avoid them. They suck you into their little dead-end calde sacs (note here. I can't spell in English, so why should French be any different?) and force you to leave your keys with them or wait 45 minutes to get out of their lair, and when you're supposed to be on a boat in 15 minutes so you can go fishing, this is a problem.

So! After capitulating to the dubious necessity of valet parking, I took myself to the docks, found my co-workers, and we immediately started to wait. The wind had picked up, and the waves were about 5-7 feet in height. We decided to go fishing anyway. We piled onto the boat with the crew and a couple other brave (read foolhardy) souls, and went out to enjoy 4 hours of night fishing.

After about 2.5 hours of fishing, not catching anything, and being rocked across 6 foot high swells, I was feeling less that premium, and one of my compatriots had already decided it was time to chum the fish (unfortunately, that hadn't improved our luck) and the crew were good-naturedly taking bets on which of us would be the next to vomit copiously overboard (the odds were 1-3 for the skinny blond girl, 1-5 for the redhead, 1-25 for me, and 1-98345 for the large black man, the asian girl having already been eliminated as the first to puke). I managed to make it through the entire evening without catching a fish or spewing my dinner into the bay, so I'd consider the trip only mostly unsuccessful.

Short and sweet

Happy News!!!


Sad News...

Both those stories were on my google news homepage when I signed on at midnight. They made me jolly and melon collie, respectively. Is that how you spell melon collie?

Scam

Just a warning to all my friends and people who might read this. While recently reviewing my bank records, I found a charge for "PURCHASE MADE ON 02/23/08 AT RESERVATION REWARDS 800-7327031 CT" and a $10 charge. I'm pretty sure I've seen this on my bank statements before, but didn't think much of it, but this time I decided to look into it because it was still unfamiliar. I found out that this is fact a widely known and ongoing scam that is being run thru the interweb. Here is a site that gives some advice on how to deal with them. I shall be doing this tomorrow. Just a little note to tell you all to check your bank statements.

This has been a public service announcement from Swampy.

(Can't You) Trip Like I Do: a treatise on natural and artificial highs

When I run, my mind wanders, and this particular time I began to wonder about similarities between the euphoric "highs" attained by sustained exersize and recreational drug use.

When you exercise, you are essentially tearing apart your body and rebuilding it. During the catabolic part of this, you are destroying your own tissue. When this happens, your body releases seratonin (even tho I can't spell it) and other euphoria-inducing chemicals to numb the pain that you would feel. There is also the rush of adrenaline you get from a workout as well, and these factors contribute to a significant feeling of elation during and after. A greater shot of adrenaline can frequently be created through public performance, such as street busking, stage performance, or even public speaking, as well as through dangerous activities such as skydiving and base jumping, hence the creation of the "adrenaline junkie".

With recreational drug use of any sort, artificial compounds are introduced into the body with the intent of re-creating and perhaps surpassing the effect created by your own system. These compounds bind to seratonin receptors in your brain and trigger them to make you feel good.

Similar effects can be created through self mutilation behavior, and it is believed that this is the reason many people engage in 'cutting'.

Now for the similarities: you can and will build up a tolerance to all of these activities after continued exposure, and a greater fix will be needed to achieve the same feeling. A bigger hit of heroin, more alcohol, a longer run, a higher base jump, a bigger stunt, a bigger crowd, a bigger show. The similarities here are stunning: with the continued use the need for the fix becomes stronger and the amount needed increases.

Now for the differences: run longer, perform in front of a bigger audience, or play a sport, and you're likely to increase your lifespan. Seriously. There is scientific evidence for this, I promise. I'm a biologist.

Smoke more, drink more, shoot more heroin and you're likely to decrease your lifespan. Seriously. There is scientific evidence for this, I promise. I'm a biologist.

Thanks for bearing with me during this little brain jaunt.

Wanted: plumber, belt a MUST.

A large portion of my day was spent re-routing the water systems for several of our 500 gallon fish tanks. We are slowly replacing our old chiller system with a newer, more compact, (hopefully) more reliable one, and to do this, we need to remove the old 80lb monstrosities, and cut about 10 feet of PVC piping and angle it around a few obstacles (pronounced "ob-stack-uls). Sooo, cue Justin. I enjoy the days where I get to do new and strange things, like figure out the best configuration of pipe angles to create a good current in an artificial pond or build new plumbing for the aquariums. The only down side is that while I'm doing this stuff, I don't have time to work on my shows, so I feel like I'm falling a little behind on some of the public performance aspect of my job. (Although, it was cold today, so I didn't really miss getting into the water on this specific day) To make up for this, I ended up putting a quarter INTO a full, sealed soda can today at lunch. Somehow it came up that I'd spend some time street performing on South Beach, and the people I work with were surprised, and immediately demanded to see something. Not having cards, I whipped out a soda can, borrowed a quarter, and proceeded to astound people. It was good fun. The girl who was the most skeptical at the beginning was the most amazed at the end, which I find to be a fairly usual progression. It's really quite amusing. It made me want to get back into street performing, but there's not really anywhere good to do it around here unless I go down to the bar district about 5 miles away and perform there at night. That could have some potential, but the place is so crowded that it would be hard to spin fire there, and I bet the police would be on me like...well, like overzealous police officers on an unlicensed fire spinner in the middle of Coconut Grove.

-Edit-
I just had a run in with Spanish speaking Jehovah's Witnesses. They knocked on my door, I answered, they said "Buenas tarde" to which I responded "Good evening" and noticed the literature in their hands. They said "Hables espanol?". I thought quickly, and in a flash of inspiration, put on my best gringo accent and went "OON POKE-OH". They handed me a pamphlet in english, and invited me to come read the bible in the street with them, and then left me alone. It was BRILLIANT.

Workout

Justin's Workout

Bike 1 mile to warm up
Run 3 miles for time, alternate Vibram 5 Fingers/regular shoes (15-18 minutes)
Bike 3 miles for time (7-8 minutes)
Bike 1 mile to cool down
Sit-ups (150-200 reps, hold last one for min. 1 minute, if unable to hold, do 100 more)
Push-ups (30-50 reps)
Curls w/ 15 lbs each hand (50 reps minimum, go for max)

Repeat 3-5x weekly after working 9 hour days at a job requiring lifting 50lb weights, and manual labor on a regular basis.

After doing this for the past 4 months or so, I now weigh 220 lbs...sheesh.

This week

Well, I'm enjoying things at work a fair amount. I fill up air tanks pretty frequently, and I'm getting to know the guys at the dive shop a bit, and they're nice fellows. I'm learning how to do the reef presentation, and one or two more times doing it with a supervisor and I'll get to do it on my own soon. It's really cool going down in there. There are some BIG fish. Groupers about 6 feet long weighing about 300lbs, 2 moray eels about 6 or 7 feet long, and a bunch of other smaller fish, probably 300 or more in all. There are some pretty angel fish, a cownose stingray, and a bunch of grunts. The groupers occasionally "boom" when they want to show agressivness. The sound inside the aquarium is like a wrecking ball smacking into the wall, and you can feel the shockwave at the base of your skull. I still get to do the shark shows, but now the interns are learning to do them, so I have to watch them and let them know what parts of their show to work on. I vacuumed the manatee pool today with Romeo, the largest manatee in the park. He weighs about 3000 lbs, and he's very friendly. He came by to check out what I was doing about every 3 minutes or so, and although he's about half the size of the orca, he's not nearly as sneaky. Hopefully I'll be able to start training the baby nurse shark, Bosco, soon. He's about 18 inches long and kinda cute...for a fish. Sang some Backstreet Boys song with some of the other guys from work at a Karokee contest at a sports bar the other night. Some girl from the audience gave me her sunglasses, and one of the girls that I work with came in 2nd place. She should have won, but her cheering section was sitting closer to the stage than we were, so they sounded louder. Anyway, that's what has been going on here.

On leadership

As a registered Independent, I'm in a rare position of being able to complain about both Republicans and Democrats. In an election year when the Democrats were essentially handed an invitation to the White House, they have fielded a pair of candidates that have continually failed to impress me. If either of them wins, it becomes a historic event: the first woman/black president, however, America, being what it is, is going to naturally turn its eyes to the white, male, stereotypical image of "president", and the Republicans know that this is a likely scenario. The Democratic candidates are spending so much time attacking each other "inexperience" and "special interests", that when the time comes to show a united front in the general election, they're going to be absurdly hypocritical in supporting whichever candidate does win the primary. The candidate that has impressed me the most at this point in the election has been John McCain (an this is not because I'm watching Die Hard, and his name bears a striking resemblance to John McClane). He's managed to show that he's willing to work across party lines, however he doesn't have the view on the war that I support. Unfortunately, neither do the Democratic candidates. None of them are willing to take a stance to remove American troops and bring them home, which is what I want to see. Anyway, I've yet to decide who I will be voting for, or if it will even make a difference in my home state, but fortunately, I still have 9 months to decide. Whoever wins, January 20th, 2009 will be a wonderful day when I no longer have to listen to the leader of my country say "new que ler". Just for entertainment, if you haven't seen it, enjoy this piece of political humor for the evening. It came around a few years ago, but it still makes me snicker.

Part 4

This is the last part before I have to write more. Now you know as much of the story as I do.

With my afternoon breakfast in my hand, I returned to my office intent upon trying to write some more. To my surprise, my computer’s power button glowed, and the screen was once again covered in words. I could have sworn that I’d turned the damn
thing off before I’d gone to sleep last night. I pulled my chair up to the desk, my Cheerios forgotten in their bowl beside me. I had not simply forgotten to shut down the machine after last night’s experience, for new words greeted me when I began to read. It was an idea both powerful and aggressive, but unfortunately, it moved with awkward steps and seemed to be posed in a stiff and unnatural way. Still, it was a recognizable thought despite being the remains of a living idea mounted on paper, or in this case, my 19-inch computer screen. The coincidences were too strong to ignore any longer; my delusions of hunting in that Jurassic forest were more than hallucinations. The butchered corpse of my first prize, left mangled and broken; the stuffed and mounted body of this second idea, nearly lifelike, but still stiff and awkward. I couldn’t believe it, but I could not deny it either. Excitement rose in my chest, and I whooped with happiness. It seemed that every time I fell asleep and imagined that I was a nearly naked Neanderthal, I was, in fact, writing. Where did these ideas come from? Were they part of my subconscious? Did they come from whatever suppressed area of my brain was creating these images of hunting in a primeval forest? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. What I did know was that it was time to get to work: I needed a nap!
After quickly finishing my cereal, I fluffed my pillow, closed the blinds, and lay back on my couch. I had work to do, and nothing was going to stop me. Nothing except the fact that I’d just slept ten hours and woken up a little less than an hour ago. Hell. Suddenly a solution came to me: daytime television! Nothing, and I mean nothing, is guaranteed to put me to sleep faster than the yammering of rednecks who insist on airing their private grievances on public TV. Thank you Judge Judy, you’ve just saved my career. Unfortunately, half an hour in, there was an attractive blond woman who insisted on wearing a shirt with a collar that dipped far too far into her décolleté. Call me a pig, call me a chauvinist, but either way, I was unable to look away. This wasn’t working. I needed a new course of action.

Improvement

Well, after about a week of running in my 5 finger shoes, when I wear my regular shoes, I can notice a difference in how long my form holds up. My calves are stronger, which means I can keep my kick longer, which translates into more power. I like them.

Interpretation

Different viewpoints and interpretations: what a blessing it is to have them. An interpretation is perhaps the most wonderful thing that two humans can chose to share, however, they can get you in a whole world of trouble.

I'm certainly guilty of writing things specifically intended to be viewed different ways by different people and thereby spark debate; after all, debate, not love, is what makes the world go 'round. Well, debate and a mix of the gravitational forces exerted by the sun and various other solar bodies, but they're not important in this conversation.

However, say something is written to entertain and inform a small group of people, it is unfortunate when something is misconstrued (even if, in retrospect, it's very understandable that it was), especially when it's seen as a viewpoint diametrically opposed to the one that was supposed to be presented. It makes me regret that text is such a limited medium in some ways. Sarcasm and facetious intent are so hard to display and so easy to misinterpret.

That being said, if anyone stumbles across this blog who doesn't know me personally, please bear in mind that very little of what I say is intended to be taken seriously. If you were to take a grain of salt with everything that I say facetiously or for every exaggeration I make, you'd probably die of sodium poisoning before reaching the end of an afternoon with me. I like my job, and I feel that the people I work for are doing a good thing by entertaining and educating people about marine animals. The best time to teach someone something is when they aren't even aware that they are learning. When you've got them laughing or smiling, that's the time to slip knowledge into their brains, and that's what I love about my job: edutainment (that's education and entertainment, in case you weren't paying attention). They also do a wonderful job of rescuing, rehabilitating, and releasing manatees, and I'm proud to be a member of the group of people who are trained to do this. It's a really good feeling to know that you're helping save an endangered animal.

Installment the Third

Third part of my short story. Only one more part until I have to write more.

That night, I dreamed. I found myself once again surrounded by towering trees, clad in loincloth, and toting a spear. This time I was not a total stranger to this strange land. I quickly scanned the forest near me and did not spot any phantasmal fantasies or transient thoughts. I would have to track my prey this time. I set off into the woods with determination and a goal.
As the sky grew darker, the forest came alive. Ideas flitted from branch to branch on wings as swift as those of a bird, but these small thoughts were not what I searched for. Their speed and size made them a difficult target. On the trail ahead of me, I spotted a more substantial prize. I must have gasped, for the creature turned and looked in my direction. Surprise and fear showed momentarily in the intelligent eyes, but they quickly turned to resolve and hunger. This idea was not an animal to be preyed upon, it was a predator in its own right, and if I were not careful, it would have me. I snarled my challenge, and the creature howled in reply. It lowered its head and charged. I held my ground as long as I dared, and at the last moment, I threw myself sideways and stabbed out with my spear. Wood sank deeply into the flesh of the beast’s hindquarters, and it growled wordlessly in pain. Whirling quickly, it lashed out and struck me. The blow knocked me backward, but my grip was strong upon the wood of my weapon, and my spear came away with me. Gathering my legs beneath me, I lowered the point and lunged. I felt the blade go deep into the wounded idea, and it died there on the end of my spear. Standing over my prize, gasping in air desperately, I knew then what triumph was. This idea was one of size and strength. It had meaning and purpose. I bent to skin it and butcher its carcass, but my recent failure was fresh in my mind. A new approach was necessary.
Rising to my feet, I pruned some stout branches from the smaller trees near the trail. I also harvested many large armfuls of the aromatic plant that grew in dense patches on the forest floor. With patience and care I bent myself to the task of mounting and stuffing the body that lay before me. I’m not a professional in this area. The closest I’ve ever come to the art of taxidermy was in 5th grade when I’d made a piñata that looked like a donkey for Cinquo de Mayo. Despite this, my attempt to restore a semblance of life to the dead idea and instill it with shape and form was not unsuccessful.
I woke the next day, refreshed and optimistic. It was midday, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Lewis, must have already come and gone because the kitchen and living room were spotlessly clean. My dog was nowhere to be seen however. I glanced out into the yard, where the open gate and empty expanse of emerald lawn lead me to conclude that my canine compatriot had gone AWOL. Fortunately, the fickle animal usually returned home when his stomach told him it was lunchtime, so I was not overly concerned. The open state of the gate troubled me more, however. Mrs. Lewis always closed the gate after herself when she left. I’d have to call her later and see if my dog had been in the yard when she’d gone for the day.

It mostly rhymes...mostly.

My day in poem form:

This day at work, you great big jerk,
Was standard and routine
I started off with hack and cough
To scrub a pool marine

The scum was there and laid quite bare
I must smite it from my sight
And when it was gone, I'd move along
Knowing that I'd done all right

For filling air tanks, I received much thanks
For divers like to breathe
As the day grew hotter, I longed for water
And my sweat glands needed reprieve

At home in my room, I got a broom,
And cleaned up puppy mess
Then took her back to rejoin her pack
She's happier now, I confess

Feeling like a grouch, I crashed on the couch
And watched some movies on TV
While eating meat cooked at great heat
Which made it difficult to see

Now to bed I go, for my brain is slow
There's more to do tomorrow
If I'm to partake of IHOP's free pancake
This rhyming crap must stop

Deffinately an idiot.

Well, I thought I'd be able to take care of her, but I ended up locking her in my room for 8+ hours each day, and I couldn't do that to a puppy, but I couldn't let her run around our house eating the furniture (read: couch) and making a mess. I took Chloe home to her sisters, and she was happy to see them and have a yard again, and I felt good knowing that I'd done the right thing. I'll miss my puppy tho. I think the only animal I have time for is a cat. Maybe a hamster.
*sniff* 'Bye puppy.

So...I'm an idiot.

Well, I went out for a friend's birthday tonight, and walked down the wrong dark alley.

When I realized that I'd gone the wrong way and turned around, right behind me was a sport utility vehicle full of puppies. Yellow lab puppies. I stopped and looked at them, and asked how much they were, because I've wanted some canine company for the past several months. "$300" was my reply. I sighed, and kept playing with the only puppy that was awake. She started to gnaw on my arm, and roll around and generally be absurdly cute. The guy laughed and said "She like you. For you, $200." A good salesman knows his mark, and this guy was decent at his job, and he had an easy mark. I caved. I'm now the owner of a 2 month old yellow labrador puppy that I named Chloe. She's absurdly cute, and very frie
ndly. She also sniffs everything, and has caused this post to be re-typed about 4 times due to her attempts to occupy the same part of my lap as my computer.

Part Deux

Continuation of the story started yesterday.

When I came to, my head hurt like hell, but more importantly, my pants were gone. Now, I’ve been in this situation before, usually with alcoholic assistance, but never had I awakened surrounded by uninterrupted greenery, discounting that one time in Central Park. However, the trees that surrounded me now bore as much resemblance to Central Park’s chlorophyll containing inhabitants as Samson bore to Mahatma Gandhi at his most emaciated. They were big. I’m not talking about “Wow, that’s a big tree” big, I mean these anabolic angiosperms were the size of your typical Manhattan skyscraper. More disconcerting, however was the long, heavy spear that was gripped tightly in my right hand, but even that faded into the trivial when one took note of the bloody and mangled corpse that lay in front of me. The life had clearly been let from this body through the application of the weapon that was even now held clenched close by my side. As I gazed, uncomprehending, at the form before me, images rushed to fill my mind. I saw myself, crouched in the tall grass, grasping my spear and clad only in a loincloth of animal hide. Only a few yards in front of me, a herd of small brown animals could be seen grazing on the foliage. Instinctively, I knew that these were no normal creatures. My writer’s sense told me that these were incorporeal imaginings given form and mass: Ideas. My fist tightened involuntarily on the haft of my spear. My breath caught in my throat. I had been unable to grow my own ideas, perhaps it was time to hunt some wild ones. I stalked forward on bent legs, my body poised to strike. As I crept into range, one of the animals must have sensed me because it lifted its head from the earth and gazed in my direction with a look of terror. I struck then, flinging my spear with all the strength I had. The throw proved to be straight and true, and the sound of impact was a jubilant tolling within my mind. The other creatures scattered into the dense foliage, but I had my prize to claim.
I bent low over the still warm corpse of this fresh idea, and considered how best dress it. Of their own volition, my hands reached to a small pouch at my side and pulled out several sharp rocks. I went to work, skinning and cleaning my prey. My labor was met with failure, however as I was not an expert in this art, and the fragile nature of my victim made it difficult to preserve its shape. My frustration grew into rage, and my rage grew until I was awakened by it.
I found myself laying on my couch, in my own living room, my head pounding intensely from the large lump that now graced the back of my skull. Stupid dog. I got up from the couch and carefully made my way into the kitchen, intent once again upon forcing my refrigerator to yield a yeasty beverage unto me. Freshly refreshed, I returned to my computer, albeit with a somewhat tender head, and turned on the dark monitor. A page full of text greeted me, like the Virgin Mary appearing before the eyes of a weary soul near death. I must have written something while I was disoriented from the fall and the blow to my head. I quickly read the words that were there, and I realized that it was not the Virgin Mary that gazed back at me, but rather the disfigured visage of a once beautiful woman, now covered in pox. My idea was here, but butchered and mangled almost beyond recognition. Only my recent proximity to the corpse allowed me to even recognize this once graceful thought. Damn, it had seemed so promising. At least I was writing again. With that encouraging thought in my mind, I finished my beer, opened the front door so the dog could let himself out into the yard, and went to bed.

Part 1 of ?

I can't really think of anything right now, so I'm going to post the first bit of a short story I've been working on since December of 2006 or January 2007 or so. I don't write on it too often, so it's far from complete, but feel free to leave constructive criticism.

/Story on
People ask me where I get my ideas. Some writers won’t tell you, others will lie. Some will say that they get their ideas from the news, or, in the manner of William Shakespeare himself, they take tried and true ideas and change them just enough to seem new. Neil Gaiman once told the story of Erasmus Fry, a writer who traveled to Greece and captured a muse. Calliope, her name was. For the next fifty years, he kept her locked in a room in his basement, and raped her regularly. This is where his ideas came from. He eventually sold his personal muse to another struggling writer for a ball of hair, covered in saliva, that had been extracted from the stomach of an obsessive-compulsive woman. A bezoar, thought to protect the bearer from all forms of poison. But I digress. Calliope, the muse, was then passed to a new master, who treated her much the same, before one day, she escaped with the help of a former lover and father of her child. Seems far fetched, but in reality, it is less so than you might think.
So, where do writers get their ideas from? Why do you ask me? I’m not a writer, I’m a storyteller. I’ll tell you where storytellers get their ideas from if you want. I hunt mine. With a spear. While dressed in a loincloth. I have the scars to prove it, for some ideas have larger teeth than others.
I used to do it the same as every other writer: scan the news, listen to the radio, read stories; hoping for something to catch my eye and spark that little something deep in the well of my mind that would jolt the pumps into action, and ideas, like water, would flow forth from my fingertips. Other times an idea would enter my mind of its own volition, and without a by-your-leave, it would set fire to the two story, three bedroom, one and a half bath, Tudor style house of my imagination. These were always the best ones, but fortunately, they were infrequent, for it is hard to find someone who would insure my imagination, and these burning ideas were very rough on the woodwork. It wasn’t long after one of these arson-inclined ideas had just come through, burning every other story out of my mind and leaving my imagination homeless that I went on my first hunt. I was sitting in front of my computer, staring at a blank screen of white that refused to hold any sentence more intelligible than “Susie’s rats don’t have leukemia because injured grasshoppers use pogo-sticks to jump over the lazy brown dog”. Before you go counting letters, that sentence doesn’t contain f, q, w, or x, so don’t waste your time, I already wasted mine. But that’s beside the point. Feeling frustrated and infuriated with Susie and her goddamn cancer-free rats, and not caring whether their healthy state was due to grasshoppers and indolent canines or not, I stood up from my computer, walked into the kitchen, and got a beer from the refrigerator. At least, that’s what I’d intended to do. Halfway through the living room, my own lazy brown dog decided that my stocking clad feet resembled his favorite chew toy, and leapt to his feet (san pogo-stick assistance. He wasn’t, after all, a paraplegic grasshopper) to pursue what, to his failing eyes, resembled a rubber hot dog moving rapidly in the direction of his food bowl. Having had similar hallucinations myself, I can’t blame the old bastard for his overreaction, but I can very well blame him for what happened because of it. As his teeth sank into the unsuspecting flesh of my gray cotton sock, I lost my balance, fell backward over an easy chair, and hit my head on the coffee table. At least I think it was the coffee table, it could have been the ottoman. I never did like ottomans, or their damn empires

I went running and my mind wandered.

The motion, it sets me free
My body burns and aches to quit
I push it farther than it's meant to go
Sweat fills my eyes, and it's hard to see
Please stop, please wait, please rest and sit
My body begs but I tell it no

Muscles fill with burning acid
Lungs that sting and taste like bile
I keep going with legs still striding
My mind is empty and face is placid
My feet are wings for a short while
When I'm done, they return to hiding

I throughly love my new shoes. Vibram Five Fingers are AMAZING
The only bad thing is that my calf muscles aren't used to that much of a workout yet, so they're going to be SORE tomorrow. A week or so of running in these, however, and I think they'll be tough enough that it shouldn't hurt.

Is it art?

Did you know that dolphins can paint? Because they can. This lovely piece of artwork was painted for me by two young males at work, Croix and Echo. Croix did the blue and the gold paint, while Echo did the turquoise. A third dolphin, Abacco, was supposed to do the gold, but he is apparently more into performance rather than visual art. When he was handed the paintbrush, he sunk under the water and began waving it around creating clouds of gold paint in the water, which he gleefully watched as they dissipated into his pool. Look at it as abstract, and see what you will. Tim saw it as a giant bird pecking a smaller emaciated bird, however I saw it as a person kneeling at a ledge hands on the edge, looking downward. Make of it what you will, but I like it, so there.

The depilatory process.

What makes us human? What separates us from animals? It's gotta be more than the fact that they have fur; after all, several of my friends could probably be legally hunted for their pelts. I have worked with highly intelligent animals, and I've seen things that seem frighteningly human in some ways, and I've seen people behave with remorselessness that would put a hyena to shame. Perhaps all that separates US from THEM is that every human, humble or arrogant, wants to leave some mark, some thing behind for everyone to see. Maybe this is just my way of leaving my mark. A binary equivalent of a dog pissing on a fire hydrant. Anyway, there was a trend of blogs going around like a bad case of mono in a Vassar dorm, so I though I'd make out with the captain of the lacrosse team and get my own infection. Enjoy it as long as it lasts.