Tuesday, June 26, 2007

he torments me

The Honduran Handyman just called and left a nice message about when he would come to take care of my "wasp problem." [It's not a wasp problem. I just pointed it out to Ali when German/Herman was fixing my sink because there are about five of 'em and they build fast. It's sort of a pre-problem.]

So, I assumed that Neighbor Carolyn had just called Landlord Jon about our list of things to be done and Jon told Handyman Herman to call me.

Nope. He called of his own volition. Which was really nice, to not totally blow me off. And he was funny in his asshole way - saying he'd knock it down and spray and then leave some spray for me in case I "can get the guts to handle it." He challenged me.

So I called him back and said, "I've been thinking about it and I think you're right - you COULD kick my ass. So, I think because you're so much tougher than me YOU should have to handle all the bugs around me and I shouldn't have to."

What the hell good is machismo when they just laugh at you when you want them to act all manly?

He knows I want him. He teases and torments me. So now I have his phone number and that's never a good thing with me. Drunk dialing from Nicaragua? Oy. Chances are I'll never see him again - he may be gone before I get back. And I'll forget about this little crush and I'll be fine.

Somebody once said that a great way to get over somebody is to get under somebody else. That's all I need - a rebound boy. Or several rebound boys.

And what's with my phobia of killing things? I eat dead animals with the greatest of ease. But there's something about killing that I just have a problem with. Mosquitoes, not so much, but I have to work up desensification first. But I went out there with those wasps the other day and tried to take a rake to the nest, but when I hit out at it I hid my eyes and then apologized - and of course I missed. What's with me apologizing to wasps? And to cockroaches?

I don't want to see the death, I don't want to know about the death, I just want it to happen.

Ali and German/Herman - they've been really good to me. What will I do without my handymans? [Yes, I know that would be handymen, but I like the internal repetition of sounds.] I have to break in new guys to cater to my every whim - climbing up very high ladders to nail shutters on adjoining abandoned houses shut, crawling throughout my kitchen to block up all roach-entry holes they can see (they did that without me even asking!), coming over with my A/C SOS.

I miss them already. Herman/German said he'd just slip away so that the separation anxiety wouldn't consume me and I wouldn't have to say goodbye to him. Um, thanks.

I may appear to have an unnatural attachment to my handymans, but they improve the quality of my life and they do it with a smile (and a challenge).

But no, seriously - what am I supposed to do about knowing his phone number? Sigh.

Monday, June 25, 2007

meeting Shirley's folks

No pic because my camera was already packed.

Shirley called me this afternoon, and she and her mom & stepdad are in town. So, we went and met for dinner and had a nice time.

Thank god she called - I'd had Cheerios for both breakfast and lunch, and that was looking like dinner, too. Instead, we went to Mother's and I had red beans & rice and turnip greens and cabbage.

Getting used to rice and beans. Yum. There'll be LOTS of that over the next two weeks.

Shirley's folks are way nice and it was a lovely time. They called it an early night since he's presenting very early tomorrow morning - which is good for me, too. Tomorrow I'm up at the crack of dawn, and then the next morning I must leave my house no later than 4:30 am.

AND Hustler doesn't have a battery charger, but she offered to help me put a new battery in if I need to. Oh, and I learned her real name is Caroline. I still don't know who her partner is - I only know the bare basics of the neighborhood really. But, it's better this way. All the people I know, they're way nice to me and helpful. Oh, and Rahim (my favorite) is Hustler's grandson. I love asking Hustler for directions because she thinks I'm way slow, so she gives super, super clear directions. She must wonder how I can drive around at all if I know nothing at all. But she's just so nice about it. I'm hoping I'll make it to the dealer tomorrow - they are replacing my radio anyway, so maybe they can charge up the battery, check the alternator, etc. I'm just not sure how I'll get back there to pick up my truck after Red Cross training ... but things always work out.

rejection

I just got a rejection note from one of the journals I attempted to write on to - and since it was the better of the submissions, there's no way I'll get on the other.

The thing is - I don't WANT to be on a journal, but I feel compelled to - otherwise I have to explain it in job interviews and they won't even look at my application (or so I'm told by everybody in the know). So I spent all those fucking hours working on those stupid things - there was even just so much READING before I could write - so I turned them in though I really needed a good 20 hours more of undivided attention on them. It wasn't possible, and I didn't really care. I knew they sucked, and I told myself I could try again in fall for one of the journals.

But I DON'T WANT TO. I have no desire to spend all that time and effort on being somebody's spell checker! I have way better things to do with my time.

I resent being forced into this cookie cutter mold of what it means to get a law job.

contact

It's so wild to be in contact with people from my past. With changing my email, I send a little note out to everybody in my contacts list - just to be sure it's all still accurate, and to say hello.

It's too easy to fall out of contact with people.

One old high school friend forwarded my email on to another friend. We were quite close when young but drifted apart by middle school. I haven't seen her since graduation. It's just both comfortable and uncomfortable - both a close friend and a stranger. She had law school advice to offer, which is always helpful. Though, I will say - everybody who told me that law school would teach me how to think - that's BS as far as I've experienced thus far. Maybe I was just so fortunate to have done doctoral work with my advisor Doug, and he taught me how to think.

Another friend, this one from Riverside, wrote to tell of fertility heartbreaks. So very sad. I hope everything gets worked out for them.

Another, from about 8 years ago when working on my masters, wrote "but I thought I was the love of your life," and I'm not sure he's joking. We were so very, very close - enough to make me doubt my then-fiance. We were soulmate friends, but that was it.

I've been so blessed with knowing such really interesting and wonderful people throughout my life.

OK, it's really time to start packing for Nicaragua and see if I need to buy anything. I think not. What does it say about my life that I already own everything I need for a trip to nearly anywhere in the world?

Saturday, June 23, 2007

... so hot!

Yup, that's what I was all day long, cruising around on a Honda Nighthawk.

Unfortunately, I don't mean like "every stares at me and wants to be or do me" hot. No, I mean "wearing a full face helmet and Carhartt and jeans and boots in 96 degree weather with major humidity" hot.

I'm fine, just beat. It didn't help that they let us out almost two hours late (and I dropped my bike on myself in protest - thank goodness for all that damn gear - just a skinned elbow and strange marks on my shoulder) and then my truck wouldn't start.

It is a very good thing I'm taking the course - they make us start slow and do basic things step by step. Which is way better than jumping on and just going - which is what I've always done in the past, and why I've not enjoyed it. Today was enjoyable, and I toy with the idea of a real motorcycle - it's not much more expensive than a Vespa. But, really - there's no freakin way I'd take it on the interstate, so I just need something hot (and this time I mean the first one) to get me around to school/work.

OK, and now my rant: I'm freakin SICK AND TIRED of the media getting all hyped up in a frenzy about white people only. Oh, poor white people. WHATEVER. The newspaper has done it TWICE recently - the first, when I was gone. An 18-year-old carjacked with a baby in the back and wouldn't stop driving away, so the cop whose car it was shot him dead. The newspaper writes about the poor 18-year-old who got caught up in crack, and he made a mistake and didn't deserve to die.

WHAT THE FUCK? Yes, I'm a pacifist and always believe nonviolent means are better. BUT, if a crackhead just stole my truck with a baby in the back, I'm shooting.

And NOW, some guy tried to carjack a car in the Arby's drive-through lane and when he grabbed the mother's hair and tried to throw her out of the car, the 15-year-old son fought him for the gun and then shot the carjacker. The carjacker had earlier killed somebody. So we read in the paper a big article about his family "Oh, he made bad choices, but he was a good man, and he didn't deserve these horrible fatal injuries," blah blah blah. He KILLED somebody and threatened another family with death.

Again, it's all a tragedy but let's PUT THIS IS PERSPECTIVE. We can't even get any information about the VICTIMS of crimes here if they're not white. If they're white, we know all their details - victim OR perpetrator. THIS IS SO MESSED UP.

And this whole Jessie Davis thing? I only know about it because it showed up on my yahoo news (BTW: new email address - if you don't already know, I'll send it to you soon). (Unless you're a blog stalker, and then you don't really need my address anyway - but post a comment already!)

It is sad and tragic that she died, but I couldn't figure out why there was such a media frenzy about it. Oh, because she was a white woman - that started to make sense. OH, and the man charged with killing her? Black. Now it all makes sense to me. Black man killing white woman - that's big news and he'll fry. If that were a black woman, you would never hear her name.

AND I'M FUCKING PISSED OFF ABOUT IT. I am *NOT* more valuable in this world because of the color of my skin! I was born privileged because of it, and I have a responsibility because of it - but if anything ever happens to me in NOLA, then I want all my friends to make a HUGE media stink about why is there so much coverage of the white woman? Use it to galvanize attention to the horrible unfairness in our world.

And it pisses me off, because I am sad about Natalee Holloway - whatever happened to her. But now I'm just annoyed with her. I shouldn't be annoyed with crime victims! She may have just been drunk/stoned and drowned walking alone on the beach and her body was washed away - but that's still sad.

But no more sad than all the other women who go missing - who don't happen to be blond and overprivileged. I'm totally sick of this.

all for the love of a Vespa

I hate riding motorcycles. The speed, the vulnerability. That my friend Thomas was killed shortly after high school in a motorcycle accident doesn't help.

But Vespas are so very, very cute.

So, this I must do for the love of a Vespa.

Motorcycle safety course - here I come. Three hours sitting in a freakin classroom and 5 hours in 100 degree heat and so much clothing, forcing myself onto the beast. For two days.

Yup, I have such a great attitude.

If he's a really good instructor, though, I'll probably be riding a Hog come August.

Friday, June 22, 2007

EJ=RB?

Could Ernest be my rebound boy?

Recap: neighbor Hustler's older brother. Grills. 10 kids, 2 ex-wives.

He just gave a long damn list of why he'd be good for me, and then just asked me out, and then admitted his secret dream of dating a white woman. That would be me.

And he is super nice and I enjoy his company - we always have a nice time stoop sitting.

Can I take it to the next level and accept his invitation to dinner? Or to the next level beyond that?

He's an incredibly patient person, and he knows the Dayton drama. Maybe he's as good as it gets, as Mr. Right Now.

Or maybe I should first have him submit that list of qualifications in writing.

OK, where did I put my damn boots that I need for the motorcycle class? I'm screwed if I can't find 'em. Time for bed fo sho.

he could kick my ass

I'm not sure exactly how this happened, but the last thing I was discussing with German/Herman, the Hot Honduran Jardinero, was who could kick whose ass. "I could so take you," I said. With far too much hubris.

Because I am tough and mean when it comes down to it, and it always is amazing what adrenaline can do. If he pissed me off or I felt in danger, I wouldn't be hitting "like a girl." And I have a weight advantage - he's not much taller than me, and wiry.

But he's right, he could take me, and probably with one arm behind his back. He was a firefighter for 18 years, and in way good shape (which is why he's hot, even with the new fu manchu mustache). And that a/c unit I struggled with, he could lift with the greatest of ease. He's way stronger than me. He works physically for a living, and I have to sit down.

And it's causing this little shift in my reality about how safe I feel in the world. I remember years ago Karen and I in a discussion about this, how she emphasized that men could physically dominate women. I just don't think about it - I don't want to think about it. What would I do if some strong man broke down my door? After all those self-defense courses, could I defend myself? I, who can't even kill a freakin cockroach without being sad? (This is so warped, but I kind of miss 'em.) (And Ali said that German killed a ton of wasps on my back porch - I'm not just a wuss - there were lots and lots.)

And do I seek danger because I don't think enough about the everpresent danger? But what good does that do? German isn't going to kick my ass. He's a nice guy who's leaving the country in a couple weeks and I'll never see him again.

And what good does it do to live in mortal fear? I'm not stupid - I read situations quickly and comprehensively, and I've been in a lot of different places and always been fine. I am far more likely to die in a car crash - or of cancer - than any kind of violence. I don't want to die a horrendous death, but is being shot in the back really worse than dying of a horrible protracted illness? I think not.

I want to see "A Mighty Heart" - Angelina's new film, just released. The newspaper today said she spoke with a convincing French accent and used a dialect coach for the role of Mariane Pearl. Um, yeah - and Angelina's mother was French/French-Canadian and Angelina is fluent in french?

But I digress. My fantasy is not to die decapitated. But I'm more afraid of Alzheimer's and being a burden on society. When I'm no longer useful to the world, I no longer wish to live.

So maybe if I see the Hot Honduran Jardinero again, we can make a death pact. When we're both too old to be useful, we get to have our Death Match.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

making my teeth hurt

When you sit outside my house and crank up your stereo high enough with the bass just right - you can make my fillings ache.

Wish I didn't know that.

Rahim is my favorite

Was just outside, and Rahim is definitely my favorite neighborhood kid. He gives me hugs. First time he ever saw me he walked right up and said, "I want to play with YOU" and took me by the hand. He's 4. (I just went outside again and when he saw me he seriously did a little dance.)

So, a/c impasse: window sill is rotten. It definitely won't hold a 50-pound unit - won't even hold a screw. So, I just made a desperate call to the landlord and asked him to send the Hot Honduran Jardinero to help me manana.

Was it all a ploy just to see him? Hmmm ... LOL. My whole attitude about that sort of thing has definitely changed. 20 years ago I would get huffy if a man held the door for me. Why? It seemed an embedded sexist gesture. Maybe it was, but so what? Now that I live in Louisiana, it's all about being nice and friendly and helpful. I hold the door for people, they hold the door for me. It's what we do. I smile and say thanks to the nice furniture delivery guy who hustled to hold the post office door for me today.

OK, time to go sit outside. Lots of neighborhood activity, and Hustler's brother is there looking mighty sharp with his hat. And matching grill. Maybe I sound like a snob, but the man's probably way good in bed.

protected head, hopefully blissful sleep

Funny how things work out. The day I went back to work I went to lunch with my boss & coworker, and walking back I saw a classmate drive off on his motorcycle. He said hi and I only knew who it was behind the helmet because of his "Virginia is for Lovers" T-shirt. He wears it all the time. He's not from Virginia - he's from Washington, and he's mostly Hawaiian. Just wears the t-shirt. And he didn't have a motorcycle before because I've given him rides. And he didn't use to say hi to me or anybody - he'd just walk on past - but I got him trained to acknowledge me by always making a big deal about it.

So when I got desperate about a helmet I remembered him driving off, and emailed if he had an idea - and even better, he has an extra helmet! He offered it to me for the whole summer, so I don't feel at all guilty for borrowing it for two days. Woo hoo! One thing off the list.

One thing added to the list: installing room a/c. It's not 110 degrees in my room only because my thermometer doesn't read that high - it's stuck at 99.5. So, I just dropped $130 at Lowe's for a room a/c.

Now, I went to great lengths to find an apartment with central a/c - it was very important to me to not have room a/c because of the noise. Yeah, yeah. I think I can sleep through it, and hopefully the timer will allow me to set it to go full-blast at about 9:00 pm to cool the room off for my sleep. If I leave the whole house a/c on, I wake up every time it kicks on. Not because it's loud or cold or anything - but EVEN IN MY SLEEP I cannot stand to waste electricity. To be cooling off all downstairs all night, just to keep my bedroom at a tolerable temperature (I have a hard time sleeping above 84), it wakes me up. And I can't decide - if it's 79 degrees outside and 84 degrees upstairs, do I keep that window open and run the a/c?

So, wish me luck installing this window unit. It will hopefully be drama-free, and hopefully I'll get a great night's sleep tonight and the next few nights - just in time to leave the country again and try to sleep where it's hot and muggy. Sigh.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

where else can I find this?

I go for a walk and first I walk past lots of Black kids playing and I scold two boys for chasing a kitten. Men talking. Women walking with children. Then a pocket of Latino men talking. Then past more people, mostly Black. Then loop around, walk past a Mexican mom sitting on the stoop petting a kitten. Then past a house at the corner where the guy was murdered Sunday night. I asked the Brazilian guys details, in my broken Spanish. Maybe my Spanish is so bad they understand it better since it's not Portuguese.

I live in a melting pot. Love it.

Speaking of melting though, my bedroom is 99 degrees Fahrenheit. I think I'm going to start a bikram yoga studio up there. Just turned on the a/c and hopefully it cools the whole house down a bit ... but I have to go buy a room a/ because that heat, that's craziness.

what's being gay got to do with it?

Yeah, yeah, I'm a pacifist, opposed to war and violence.

BUT, the ban on gays & lesbians in the military is FUCKING STUPID.


Sign the petition to your Congressperson urging that the ban be ended.

you gotta be fucking kidding me

Here's politics, Louisiana-style.

I can't read the whole article because I feel anger well up. But basically: a New Orleans school board member, who got a corruption task force going, herself accepted $100,000 bribe from William Jefferson's brother (Bill Jefferson is our Congressman who finally got indicted for bribery for dealings with Nigeria, etc. - they found $90,0000 in his freezer) TO PUSH FOR AN ALGEBRA PROGRAM.

Yes, you heard me. There's so much money to be made in education nowadays that $100K can be tossed around for a math program sponsorship.

Yup. Education leaders: always looking out for kids' best interests.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

pan cubana

So the good news is ... I won't be in Cancun alone! Lalo just made his reservations, and we are BOOKED.

Well, we have air reservations. We haven't gotten any further than that. It kind of blows the mind and I'm reeling with giddy excitement.

I've been told by more than one person in authority that I'm a rebel. A subversive. A pain in the ass.

But this, THIS trip - this is the best damn spit in the eye I've ever dreamed.

But I also don't want to get busted SO I may not blog about it except in the vaguest of terms.

There ya go, blog pals. There's my limit. If it involves federal prison and multi-thousand dollar fines, it's not bloggable. Anything that would prevent me being accepted to any bar, not bloggable. Because out here, I'm an average girl. In prison as a wanna-be lawyer - I'm way too pretty.

So, I'll blog Chichen Itza.

This will be by far the longest amount of time Lalo and I have ever spent together - until now our trip to see Gail & Shelton in Vegas was the longest. Where, we all ate Cuban food.

Coincidence? I think not.

some people have too much time on their hands

This site is whack.

OK, one more hour of being "on the clock." I got this whole anti-work jive going on. Ever since I decided I'd use the money I make this summer to go to Africa for winter break, I've got a bad attitude (as Ashton would say).

So maybe I should just be honest with myself and say all the money I make this summer will go to one month's electricity bill.

summertime and the livin is easy

Some movie I saw many, many years ago - I want to say with Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn, in Florida - showed a hurricane knocking things out.

I post now because I'm not sure I'll have power for long, and I'm flashing back to that film. The rain is pounding, blown nearly horizontal. It comes in torrents, in buckets. The winds whip everything around. It's really an amazing sight, and I'm OH SO LUCKY to be inside my little creole cottage, watching from my window. Oh, there's lightning.

Nature is totally effing amazing. I'm all in love with our modern technology - dishwashers, laundry, blenders - all these joyful gadgets make my life gleeful. But nature - it can wipe it all out.

This is New Orleans, after all. We know nature's strength. I wasn't here for Katrina, of course, but I see the effects every single day.

It's just such a great reminder that I need to get my little hurricane preparedness kit together - all my important papers, etc. But I also need to get prepared for power outages in case I don't evacuate for some reason - water, radio & batteries, etc.

Ah, summer in New Orleans. What could be better? Between the heat & humidity (it was only 90 degrees when I checked, with humidity it "feels like" 96), the cockroaches, political corruption, and these tropical storms - really, is there anyplace else to be?

Monday, June 18, 2007

something else I learned today

When they were talking about shelter operations, about being called at 2 am to handle a house fire, about working 12-hour shifts, about sleeping on a cot in a big room with 1,000 evacuees - I'm all over that. THAT sounds interesting and worthwhile.

When I think about working 100 hour weeks as a lawyer hammering out contracts and litigation - it's a big yawn for me. When I think about being a stay-at-home parent and getting up for midnight feedings, I get this "Is this all?" feeling. Don't get me wrong - I have great respect for my friends and others who do it, but it ain't me. Never appealed to me. Having kids around - that's appealing. Changing diapers and being sleep-deprived for an infant - I have no interest. I'm not a person wired to stay at home and have most of my conversations be with people whose ages are in the single digits - any more than I'm wired to sacrifice my life quality for seat time in a power suit.

But I may well be wired to do disaster work. Am I a disaster whore? Do I have a hero complex?

I dunno. But helping people through the roughest spots in their lives - that I can get into. And not just here - which is good, because 97% of Red Cross workers are volunteers, and of all the other paid workers, only the director makes enough money to pay off my student loans.

But maybe abroad. Maybe there's a living wage in it. I don't know. But clearly I'm leaning in the direction again of doing an international development masters. It's the work that's the most interesting to me.

the rains have come

Laugh all you want, Tiff and friends ... the rains have come here. Some low front mixing with some high front - all I know is, flooding and thunder & lightning. Downpours soaking me. I brought work home so I can work here tomorrow instead of driving in and walking with my computer in the downpours. We were in Red Cross training when it started, with dark clouds suddenly taking over the sky.

Trust me, this place is Biblical. Plagues, floods, hurricanes, and sin - we got it all.

I love this place. In the way I would love an imperfect, rowdy child. The folds of love are in the faults.

So, I am now an officially trained shelter worker - I can get in a set up and handle a shelter now. Not that I want to. I mean, I want to if there's a need, but I don't want to because I don't want a disaster.

But there will of course be disasters here. There will be house fires and tornadoes and floods and tropical storms. It's New Orleans. So, I will also get training to drive the Red Cross vans, so I can cruise around the streets looking for survivors to feed. And for disaster assessment, so I can assess needs after a disaster and work with survivors to get what they need.

I know that my thyroid is out of whack when my mood swings include crying at the cheesy Red Cross training videos. I *must* quit sugar and caffeine. I must, I must. Unfortunately my sleep has been screwy and I've been relying upon those stimulants to get me through the day. The spirit is willing to be detoxed, but the body is oh so weak.

two blocks away

Last night about 8:30 pm, two blocks from my house, somebody was murdered.

That's all the information I have, because it was buried in the B section at the bottom of the page, in the same short article about another murder in another part of town. No info at all about the victim, etc.

It doesn't bother me so much about a murder happening not so far from me. What bothers me is how blase the whole thing is taken in stride. I heard no sirens, nothing. There was a lot of street noise last night - lots of people hanging out, chatting, car radios blaring. But surely that wouldn't have masked the sounds of gunshots and ambulance?

Is it somebody I've walked past and said "hi" to? The murder rate of black young males in this city - it's an epidemic and so very, very troubling.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

it was nice while it lasted

But Tami was of course correct.

Roach sighting. Ugh.

Tomorrow I'll come home armed - with Raid, traps, and the like. Scrub the floors down and re-boric acid them. Ask landlord to bomb the apartment again when I'm gone again.

And, I'm feeling masochistic, and in google-stalking Dayton I found blogs by other volunteers and saw pictures of him in action with Tribal Leaders Forum. It doesn't help. Not at all.

Cancun, baby


Done deal AND I get that stupid fuck KLM Flying Blue monkey off my back by using up all the miles accumulated.

Lalo and I are going to Cancun ... and perhaps beyond. (I'm going to be way hushy-hush now about it to avoid incarceration and huge fines.)

Well, *I* am going to Cancun, and hopefully Lalo gets his ticket tonight/tomorrow, too. Unfortunately his ticket price jumped up about $100 from last time we talked, but he still wants to go ahead and go. I might be cool with just chilling in Cancun for a week ... going to Chichen Itza, snorkeling, etc. But Lalo doesn't swim, and we have our mission, so we'll be on that quest.

I still had to pay like $177 in taxes and fees - but it was better than paying $490 ... and now I can stop contributing to this stupid frequent flyer plan and start others.

So, to recap:
West Coast Extravaganza May 23-June 14
Nicaragua June 27-July 7
California July 18-July 23 ... THANKS MICHELE!!!
Cancun August 1-August 8
School starts August 20

My life really, really doesn't suck. And ALL THAT TRAVEL costs far less (like half) than taking one class this summer would have. Maybe my grades don't rock, but who's the stupid one?

Have I mentioned there have been NO cockroaches since I returned? And tomorrow they'll get rid of the wasps (though unfortunately I won't be here to watch my Hot Honduran Jardinero hunk work - Red Cross calls). I'm loving having this much space, though it's amazing how much I can spread stuff all around even in three times the space as before.

So, here's the tally: Dayton - still sucks. Everything else in life - rocks.

rather than all the other things I should be doing ...

I'm fantasizing about more travel.

First, here's the info on my Nicaragua trip.


Next, my stupid KLM frequent flyer miles (almost all of which were accumulated on trans-oceanic booty calls) which would NOT get me to Alaska in April/May WILL get me to Cancun to meet up with Lalo for various subversive travels (with my REI rebate more than covering the taxes for that flight). Should I do it? Hm. It seems it's a major hassle to get it to use domestically and it'll take forever to earn enough miles to get to Africa. I'll still have to cover the cost of the flight to the Subversive Destination, and all the other travel costs. It ain't a cheap trip. But I think it's worth it.

AFRICA is what I'm contemplating for winter break 2007. A little jaunt to Liberia. By then I'll be over Dayton, but not over Liberia - I want to get to that country fo sho. I've been to the Galapagos, to the Egyptian and Mayan pyramids, to Pompeii and the Eiffel Tower. Isn't Liberia on everybody else's short travel list like those places? Anyway, my goal for this summer is to make enough money to pay for that trip.

So, if Lalo and I do this Subversive Trip then that's my whole summer, all planned away. Damn fun.

And let me just say how groovy it can be to not be a grown-up. But NOW I will go eat some damn salad.

Brenda and the blueberries

"Oh, this is out all boondocky - I sure don't want to get lost out here. I hope there's not cows! I've never seen where the blueberries grow."

Brenda, Tami's mom, had her first farm-like experience today, and not only did she survive but she seemed to have a moderately enjoyable time. Tami went picking last year, and Carolyn and I are old u-pick and farm/garden pros, but Brenda was a berry virgin.

Not a lot were ripe, but we got a gallon each - plus picked up some purple beans and fresh eggs. A successful day.




Saturday, June 16, 2007

in da 'hood



This is the view from my stoop. The house was light yellow with burgundy trim when I left, and this is what I came home to. We chatted it up yesterday, and she said she never liked the burgundy, and since her mother says she's not coming back (it's her mother's house), she's changing it to how she wants it. She says the inside is already done - purple and lavender in the master bedroom, and many other great colors. I'll go check it out fo sho. Mardi Gras colors all the way!

This neighbor (whose name I can't remember and am too embarrassed to ask again) is very nice to me, so I'm always startled when she yells at her grandson who sometimes locks her out of the house. "Open the fuckin door you little fucker! When I get in there I'm going to whup yo fuckin ass!"

It's an eternal mystery to us why he doesn't open the door immediately.

Also not much of a mystery is why her son moved to Hollywood. I'm sorry I missed him - he was visiting while I was gone, and he came and did a lot of the painting prep and tricky parts for her. She said her brothers lived there and he went to visit years ago and stayed, saying he loved it. And I have to say - as a Black young man in New Orleans, leaving can be one of the best options unfortunately. Like Hustler's brother Ernest who left in his early 20's, and now is back with a good job because of all his years elsewhere - he said there just wasn't much opportunity for him here. And it's so damn dangerous for young Black men here.

The mail carrier just stopped (he's way hot) and asked if I wanted to take a package for my neighbor Carolyn. Sure. Did he ask because that's what we do in this neighborhood? Or because we're the only white folks around and he assumes we're friends and have keys to each others' apartments (true on both counts, but not because we're both white)? Shrug - who cares. Helping each other out is what we do here.



Here's the sushi she made me the day I got back - after providing me with a strawberry-banana-protein powder smoothie right after we got back. That's just darn nice.

the last pics of West Coast Extravaganza 07

Poor Keegan, his forehead all mosquito-bit up.


Racquet zappers! Such a wonderful invention, I brought one home. Not only can you avoid touching the offending insect directly, but there is a satisfying sizzle when you snag it with the racquet. Now if they just had one that worked for cockroaches ...


Rick in the loft reading Eldest to the boys. Rohnan in mosquito tent - he was the first to be tented due to his allergies, and then me, and then everybody.


View of the yurts ... but the view is always changing! Next time I see it, there'll be siding and maybe a screened-in deck underneath.


Garden beds we put in, and the newly painted picnic table. The yurt theme is orange and green. I asked the symbolism of living "behind the green door" - and Rick suggested the new name be "Behind the Green Door Kennels." Tiff did not approve and exercised her veto power.


View of lake from picnic table. Some more of the trees will go down eventually.


Keegan wrapping me in the Princess Mosquito Net.


Talkeetna or Bust!


Tiff & the boys at the Talkeetna Ranger Station, where we learned about scat and tracks and Tiff made a Ranger-homeschooling connection.


Rohnan & Keegan in bright sunlight at 8:00 pm, in Sitka roses at Talkeetna.


Another moose for Moose Dropping Festival ... in an outhouse! Rohnan reports there were even nuggets for a most authentic moose.


The local high school, which burnt to the ground the night I arrived. (The boys and I convinced Tiffany we should stop on our way back from Talkeetna, and we thrilled her to no end when we snuck across the crime scene tape to snap a pic of the still-smoldering debris. I'm such a good influence.)


Tiffany ... mining? Um, no - removing invisible splinter from an unhappy Rohnan's finger.


Rick, eliminating the suspected mosquito entrance. (And after this, the population dropped dramatically - hopefully it worked!)


When I first started chopping wood ...


... and when I left (plus one pile of the bad wood around the side of the house to use for outdoor fires).


Brumby at post - telling somebody off about something, as usual. We put these posts in - Rick digging the holes and putting the posts in, me finishing the backfill and attaching the hardware. A rewarding task.

picking at the sores

"Treat flattery like chewing gum; enjoy it but don't swallow it."

Each day on BBC Network Africa, they begin with a local African proverb submitted by a listener (just after the rooster crow - which I will always equate with Africa, as I heard it each morning for real when in Ghana). They are always fascinating and interesting, giving cultural insight and usually wisdom.

But when Dayton would use proverbs in our arguments, it drove me up a freakin wall.

I don't know how to really get over him; our relationship was more of a package deal than just between us. The girls, the continent, the cultures, the experiences, the future.

My love for Africa is not just because of my love for him, so I cannot stay away from Africa in my travel fantasies (perhaps a Serengeti adventure next Christmas?) and news interests. But so many things remind me of him, especially Africa. Pursuing my interests is painful, dredging him up.

I am again at crossroads. I love New Orleans, but it is not my only love. Time in Alaska made me remember who I was first, and how I liked that life. Being back in California felt like home, too - especially speaking Spanish. And what about a life abroad?

My grades are not wonderful. I'm barely in the top third of my class, and with being outside the mold of desirable new legal hire, it will be an uphill battle to find a really great-paying job. Nor do I want the lifestyle and 90-hour weeks that entails. I was accepted for a masters in international development, and I never officially accepted nor declined though I decided against it (disorganized program, decision to focus on law, and requirements of spending a summer in classes). But maybe this grade debacle is a signal that I should reconsider it.

I need to make a decision about that fairly quickly as well as about other things - such as which geographic region I hope to be employed in (applications for next summer hiring programs are due now). If I pursue a job in Anchorage for next summer, I am really kissing good-bye all possibilities of a job that would take me to the southern hemisphere. And vice-versa.

There are so many frustrations with living abroad, things which make living in New Orleans seem plush in comparison. (By the way: two days without cockroaches!! I am so happy - and Tami, I'll ask him what he did. The wasps that set up a nest right outside my back door may have killed them. Or the five mouse traps in my kitchen may have caught them.) But, Rick brought up a good point when we were out putting posts in the dogyard, when he said I'm attracted to dangerous people. He wasn't quite right: what I'm really attracted to is a challenging life and interesting people, and danger usually isn't too far from that. I like to be pushed beyond all my comfortable limits - both physically and psychologically. But sometimes, it's really exhausting.

Today I slept in until 9:30. I'm not blaming anybody for effing up my sleep schedule (*cough* Holts), but I think I'll stay home today rather than go in to work as I'd planned (and where I have yesterday's eel sushi & seaweed salad waiting for me). I have so much work to do here, with moving in and cleaning. My back is feeling a little better, so hopefully I can move things and vacuum and mop and all that. Or sit here on my couch and blog the whole damn day. Either way.

Friday, June 15, 2007

being home

It ain't all roses, coming home.

Don't get me wrong - I can cite murder statistics with the best of 'em, but I love New Orleans. I love how people wave at me, say "how you doin" and mean it, and invite me inside to see the colors they painted their house. I love hearing music wherever I go and the amazingly beautiful houses. And so much more do I love. Brenda letting me store my truck at her house, neighbor Carolyn feeding me all day yesterday after she picked me up, etc. etc.

But I'm tired and my back hurts, and working for a living sucks. I was half an hour late for a meeting that *I* had scheduled (and actually rescheduled), and the prof I'm working with was gracious enough to say, "It's ok."

Why was I late? I got my legs waxed. Poor women tweezed around my mosquito bites rather than waxed, but they were good sports about it. And it hardly hurt (in fact, I fell asleep). I'll post here about any difficulties encountered ... but honestly it was so untraumatic that I'll go back next week to have my armpits waxed. And I ran into the woman who colored my hair, whom I really liked on both a professional and personal level, and I'll go back to see her to fix my stupid hair.

On the good side, it's cool today. I guess it hit about 90, but there's a breeze so now that I'm home I just have the doors open and it's good. If I could reach up (without falling over in excruciating backpain) I'd turn on the fan, but even ibuprofen isn't helping now. I'll be fine - just a lot of sitting still and not a lot of sleeping make me a hurtin girl.

The boys asked me what my favorite part of my visit to Alaska was. Keegan said our mosquito killing contest (he kicked our asses), and Rohnan said watching Shrek 2 together (and what we did before that; I forget what it was). They are such teachers' kids. :) (And it's so interesting how they have such different personalities! I'd think that two people born at the same time to the same parents with the same experiences would be so much more alike.)

My favorite part? Wood chopping. I'm totally jonesin for it.

And no, I didn't give up coffee today yet. But I will - I bought no half and half, so as soon as I run out of coffee or have no interest with soy milk in my coffee, I'm done. I went to bed about 8 pm last night because I was so freakin tired, and woke up several times in the night because of temperature issues. It's effing hot in my room, and the window now opens but my screen is only about 6 inches tall. The fan can be a bit gusty, and the A/C ... well, I just can't run it at night without screaming in agony at wasting all that electricity.

The Landlord did everything on my list, and there were no cockroaches to be seen any time I came downstairs in the night. Sweet. Now to get him to put on screen doors and a room A/C in my bedroom. I'll probably offer to pay for the doors & A/C if he'll help me put them in - I have a pretty good rent deal and these are things I wasn't promised. But they'll improve the quality of my life and save me significant electricity.

And because I haven't given up coffee yet, I think I'm going to walk down to CC's and enjoy a decaf latte while I read. I really need to exercise at least a little, and that will be a good motivation to walk a couple miles.

The worst part about being home is that it gets dark here. I so miss the skylight of the yurt and that constant daylight. I wasn't sure I had any interest in returning to Alaska, but that summer light makes me much more interested.

So. I'm happy and sad to be home. I had great travels all along the west coast and am very grateful to have such wonderful friends in my life. And now that the cockroach battles appear to have been won, y'all can come visit!

Thursday, June 14, 2007

working at the doglot!

Ciku, the chatty, the friendly, the willful, the bossy, the will not be pushed around by no stinkin' man. Needless to say: Selma and I adore her.


Chautauqua, the beautiful, the brave, the first.


Noonie, with Kirstie Alley eyes.


Rigor, the pretty boy on the lot.


Louise, who's hyper like a hummingbird. Rick says that in races she's always ready to get all excited and get the rest of the team riled up. She makes me dizzy just watching her.


Ferocious beast Houston, who really didn't like me at first but definitely came around.


Elefante, such a sweet boy with Dumbo ears. Skittish and shy at first, but very lovey. I wanted to tuck him in the suitcase and bring him home.


Brumby, the Iditarod pro on the lot (has run it twice), and Mr. Chatty Chatty - always has lots of things to say. But, he did learn to sit still and just right for long pets.


Snowman, a super good dog. (Not to be confused with "super cool" says Rick in an SNL reference.) He's really mellow and Rick says he's a great runner. Unfortunately he has a scar on his face from chompy Canyon.



Scooby, Shaggy, and Canyon ...


These are the 12 the Holts currently have ... and some may be running with Rick in the Iditarod in March! (Others of theirs are on loan to a tourist feature; others are borrowed from another musher.)

Monday, June 11, 2007

the mosquito wars

We fought the mosquitoes ... and the mosquitoes won.

We can't figure out how they're getting into the yurts ... Tiff & I will try to blueboard & insulate all the remaining cracks downstairs. I'm not sure that'll do it, but hopefully. Poor Rick is bummed right now - he just really doesn't want to have a house that has mosquitoes. I'm sure that by the next time I come back, there won't be.

During the day they're not so bad in the yurts - and yesterday was an amazing day that was actually hot (over 80 degrees) and clear and beautiful, and hardly any bugs outside. (Until I went out to watch Rick feed & water the dogs - I went out in flip flops and got some swarming action. We went to Chautauqua first, who sniffed my toes and looked at me with a very clear, "Seriously, flip flops? Dog yard? Not a wise choice, human."

But after two nights of little sleep due to the evil mosquitoes swarming me all night long, on the way back from Talkeetna we stopped at a little store and I picked up a mosquito net. It's the best $17 I ever spent. I don't care that it cost me at least double what it would someplace else - it was a little piece of paradise. The Holts didn't have any string so I almost blew off setting it up, but I filched their laundry line. Which is one of the wisest things I ever did - it was bad, bad, bad last night. So bad that Tiff climbed up into the loft to sleep with Rohnan in his mosquito net (he's way allergic to the bites).

Rick says I snored - I slept HARD and long. I woke up to see loads of them on the net ... on the OUTSIDE of the net.

Pics to follow ... can't get 'em to load up.

UPDATE: Post written days earlier than posted due to technical difficulties. My last night it appeared that Rick's aggressive attack of the doorways seemed to work and the mosquito swarms have abated. Here's to a mosquito-free yurt!

yurt work

Yesterday was a productive day with Rick & Tiff finishing up the boys' room downstairs while I did insulation. We also kept painting the doors and other fun tasks. I started off the morning with chopping wood ... and let me just say that the spirit is willing but the body is weak. I twisted something and my lower back is pretty bad off right now. But, it will improve!!

Today was spent in Talkeetna (post below) and then back here where I tried to ice and ibuprofen and rest. But I eventually made it out and helped Rick a little with postholes for the dogyard. Right now the dogs are all on chains that are long between two poles with about four dogs linked off at regular intervals. Better what we're doing is a post for each dog, so they don't get dragged along with the group who moves the whole chain. Rick made good progress there (five posts in the ground) while Tiff painted the boys' room's floor. Then a yummy carb-free dinner (I got more than enough carbs this morning).

Now it's 11:27 pm and daylight. Not as bright as earlier in the day, but daylight nonetheless. I have yet to see dark here on this trip, no matter how late I go to bed and how early I get up. This huge skylight in the middle of the big yurt is awesome for daylight - no need to turn on a light.

Tomorrow? Rick's off to town with the boys, so Tiff and I will sit around and drink coffee and do our nails and eat bonbons - NOT. There will be painting and blueboard and seams and more such fun.



Wall growing.



Drilling something. Or just holding a drill.



Stapling and taping the vapor barrier over the fiberglass ...



Here I am trapped behind the dryer putting up vapor barrier over the fiberglass.



Putting up the blueboard with some help from my friends through the vent.



Rick? Wilson?
In any case, a pretty new wall finished!



Here I am resorting all the sockets after I dumped them all out. Right after Tiff snapped the pic, Keegan and then Rohnan were right there helping me finish. They've been really helpful with all sorts of fun stuff.

Talkeetna!

Today we took a trip on over to Talkeetna, which is about 25 miles from here. Talkeetna is a quirky little place - I heard good stories from Rick about the quirkiness, such as when the state was trying to put in the road how a guy was out there with a gun preventing their continuing. Talkeetna still refuses to incorporate, which means the development happens more willy-nilly than desired.

But it's a cute little place, and overrun by tourists and Denali climbers. On the way is a nice view of The Mountain, also below (and I was too lazy to get out of the truck).

We went to the Roadhouse for a yummy breakfast, where I had biscuits and reindeer gravy, and I helped everybody else out with their breakfasts - eating Keegan's toast and Rick's potatoes. (Not shocking to anybody who has eaten with me, of course.) Apparently they're Atkins-it, and apparently I'm not. Nor is Tiff, who's way excited about the really great potatoes. (And has been full of song ever since I got here.)

They also had moose out for the Moose Dropping Festival which will occur in July - different businesses have different decorated moose - some were way cute.

So, a fun little trip into a fun little place. We're off to water the dogs now - I'm hoping for a Thank You Howl for it.






Saturday, June 09, 2007

the joy of woodchopping

It's been a couple fun-packed days at the Holts - first there was paper finishing, and then it's been replete with concrete hauling, dirt hauling, garden setting up and planting, wood chopping, mardi gras bead enjoying, coffee drinking, mosquito swatting, dog petting, beer holding for Conrad ("inverted hoo-hoo"), Tyvek stapling, blueboard cutting and wedging, scrap wood hauling, pothole filling, mosquito swatting, door painting, lean-to disassembling, electric hole filling, particle board moving.

And Rick just made a list of 20 things for me to do tomorrow morning before they get up. It better be some strong coffee. :) I'm annoying Tiff completely because I came here to WORK dammit and everybody will be dragged along with me and I want to work all the damn time - so tell me what to do, tell me what to do! :)