Go metric just for the hats

Wow, talk about northern weather. We couldn't leave for Victoria because the roads were so nasty, and races ended up being cancelled yesterday because no one on the lake could see where they were going. EM and I ended up taking the mutts up to Sowchea Bay and running through some beautiful bush trails which were cushioned by a foot and a half of fresh powder. My poor little brother agreed to set a trail for us on his new snowmobile, but came back with frostbite on both cheeks. Yikes. The run went well, even if some of the dogs were pretty squirrley; we saw two big bull moose and blasted through some punishing willow bushes.


After the race, everyone headed over to TH's for some pizza and a slide show of the weekend's events. I met a couple from Tagish, Yukon, who train puppies all winter for a big-name sprint musher up in Fort Nelson. They travel all over the place to compete and do really well. The lady kept telling me to enjoy my life as much as possible, as she had almost died four times and now tries to just live in the moment. She loves her job, which is pretty cool, but they don't get paid anything and they have to give up their dogs at the end of each season. I don't think that would appeal to me. Plus, the guy they train for was just disqualified from one of the year's biggest sprint races for punching and swearing at another competitor as his team was passing.


Before E and C headed back to Revelstoke, C showed me how to bake German bread, which is heavy but delicious. Two slices of that stuff and you're good for the day. I really hope to see those guys again, and maybe go on a camping trip or something. I just don't want to go back to Victoria.

But I'm stumped as to how to go about it

I had a lot of cool stories to tell about the day's racing, but now I'm kind of antsy and don't feel up to it. I ran the four-dog heat today and finished a solid eleventh out of nineteen teams. Someday, I swear to God, I'll have a competitive dog team and won't have to rely on the kindness of other mushers. At the end of the ten dog heat, a wind picked up and snow started to fall. I was out on the lake guiding a tour sled with a couple of French girls and by the time we turned back, the trail had completely blown in. I laughed about it at the time, but I honestly had no idea where we were. It was a good thing that the dogs were able to guide us back. About the same time, a musher from Hinton got so lost we sent out a group of snowmachiners to guide her back. My brother promptly got lost in the storm and ended up on the other side of the lake, twice. Eventually, everything worked out and we headed off to eat lasagna. We'll do it again tomorrow.

I felt awful tonight, but don't feel comfortable writing about it on the Internet. This feels like too public a place, even though I'm pretty sure no one reads these.

You have to look forward, y'know. Don't keep running backwards.

Around midnight last night, I saw a pair of headlights sweep into my driveway. After pulling on fifty layers of clothing, a weak headlamp, and mitts the size of bear paws, I went out to meet Eric, his girlfriend Connie, and 18 tail-wagging, muscular, ill-mannered sled dogs. We exchanged greetings, took all the dogs out of their boxes to stretch, shoveled up after they had taken care of business, and drank beer under a cold black sky. They introduced me to Spock and Grizzly, the two accidental puppies, and displayed the interior damage that the big husky Chaos had done when left alone in their truck.


The Classic sled dog race began at 10 o'clock. I was in charge of dropping the flag, a bright piece of orange plastic stapled to a piece of rough wood. The sides of the race chute were lined with hordes of elementary school children out to watch the teams depart. As the dogs took off, one team ducked to the right of the netting barrier and barreled towards a group of students. I ran into the knot of children, yelling and shoving and probably doing more harm than good, as the team flew past us, crested the berm, and landed back on the trail. Crisis averted. Later on, I ran a small bunch of dogs while Eric and Connie followed with eight powerful hounds under a sky so heart-achingly blue it hurt to look above you for too long.


Racing begins again tomorrow at nine a.m. I'll be racing in the four-dog, four-mile class for sure, and may be running the ten dog class as well for a musher with back trouble. We'll see how things play out.

That bluebird sky above me

 

I just got back from a musher's meeting at the local elementary school, and I'm now supposed to be working on my History reports. Pre-race gatherings always have kind of a charged atmosphere; a lot of the people who show up train together and know each other at least by reputation, if not personally. There are a lot of men with beards wearing Carhartts and thin, wiry women with chapped hands and messy hair. Everyone is asking, and being asked in turn, about the races they've run this year, how their leaders have been, what training problems they've had, ect, ect. Competitors want to tell their stories, but are wary of giving too much away. Our race manager, who also happens to be the principal of the elementary school the meeting is being held at, shows up wearing moccasins and a massive parka, which he ditches in his small concrete office. One musher, a big solid guy who just got back from a huge race up north, captivates everyone with stories of armpit-deep overflow, fifty-eight below weather, and an incident where he could reach straight out and, from a standing position, touch the side of the mountain he was supposed to be climbing. I stood off to the side, feeling a little lost and taking pictures as mushers drew numbers to determine their racing bibs. Not having dogs is a major liability here. 

EM should be here around midnight with a truck full of mutts. The fun really starts tomorrow night, when droves of hyper-competitive sprint mushers will show up, with the scent of dog meat clinging to their clothes and sleds that cost more than a year's university tuition.

I drop the flag tomorrow at 10am. 

But these chaps fired from the hip with their eyes shut

Today's theme will be police dogs.

 

This one's just for a laugh.

 

This dog is just too cool.

 

And this is apparently the world's smallest police dog. I believe she is used as a drug-sniffing dog at an airport somewhere in the states.

In other matters, I finally got home this morning at 5 o'clock. We drove straight from Vic after missing the 3 o'clock ferry and I watched the car thermometer hover around minus one, zero, minus 5, minus 7...and then, BAM. Minus twenty-seven. Intense. Around Hope, the snow was coming down in such thick sheets that we couldn't really see the road. There were an awful lot of cars pulled in at truck stops, waiting out the weather. But we made it safely, so all's well that ends well.

It's good to be home. Dad and I shopped around Prince for Mom's birthday present (snowpants) and I bought terrible Cheesies in Vanderhoof that I had always begged for as a child. The drive back to the Fort was pleasant, with a bluebird sky and snowdrifts sharply sculpted by the howling wind into shapes vaguely resembling whipped cream. Because it's so windy, a friend of mine is out right now breaking trail around the sixty-mile dogsled race loop, which must be really unpleasant in this weather.

We had delicious potstickers for dinner and I drank about four gallons of tea. Time for bed.

A sudden change in life

My plans for this reading break have been effectively scrambled. I'll be heading back home today around 2 o'clock. And by "back home", I mean into the northern territories. I'm not packed, I still have no idea who's working for me on Saturday, and my plans for the rest of the week have yet to be cancelled. Sorry, LT and RM.

That being said...I'M SO STOKED! EM is bringing the entire crew up from Revelstoke, and I'll get to hang with my dogs again! MM, a musher I haven't seen in ages, is coming down to visit his brother, and WP, an Iditarod musher, is trucking over from Quesnel to run the 150mile Stage Race. Things are happening fast; should be a great race. If you feel like checking out the website as things progress, I'll post the link below:
http://caledoniaclassic.fsjames.com/

It's a beautiful day.

I refuse to ever live like this

Fuuuuccckk, I am occasionally capable of being the most disorganized, clueless person around. Guess who forgot (yes, forgot) that she was covering a work shift on Sunday? And who thought she was actually travelling home two weekends from now rather than this coming one, and is now scrambling to find someone to cover Saturday for her? And who promised she would secure a bag of food as a promotional race item and put the order in a day too late? Me. Me, me, me, me, me.


I'm eating sweet rice chips and listening to the Social Network soundtrack, which is pretty darn good, even if I just lost all of my musical cred by promoting music by Trent Reznor. But whatever. Other people have to like his stuff, otherwise he wouldn't be such a big name musician, right?


Today I was telling a funny story to J and she laughed so hard that she fell forwards and smashed into the back of a chair, which made me snort much too loudly and tears start streaming down my face. She walked around for the rest of the day holding her forehead and moaning theatrically. Good times.


Today I wrapped a chinchilla in a sock and x-rayed it. Awesome.

Apples that are not actually apples

Here I am again, studying for another Philosophy midterm. The last one was not exactly stellar, but I've prepped super hard for this one, with a whole bunch of cue cards n' shit. So I'm actually feeling pretty good.


This will be confusing, but I'll explain it as best I can. Last night I had a long talk with SL about communication and the need to suck it up and talk to certain people. Like, people you may have been involved with, or may have feelings for. So I was sitting on her bed mumbling and looking all confused and she pushed me out the door and I went and had A Conversation. And it went well. I'm really glad that it happened, and that nothing was awkward and no one was hurt, and that I now don't have to deal with the whole host of problems that comes with seeing someone. Of course, there are downsides to that too, but overall I'm pleased. And that was a Life Lesson; communication is maybe more important than we realize.


Otherwise, I foresee a week of cooking and schoolwork and exploration ahead. Four reports I want to get a head start on and a whole bunch of material to catch up on. I'm looking strangely forward to this, as there will hopefully be some peace and quiet and some stuff will get done. And then, I can head up to the interior with a clear conscience.


Listen to this song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h8DITesfjT0
I plan on marrying Otis Taylor's voice. Seriously.

Ohhhhh ya left me, man we broke up, and...no, wait

 

Jes sittin' in da coffee shop, eating a scone and wishing that people would close the door behind them. Cause baby, it's actually a little cold outside. 

Just bought myself a small package of chocolate Easter eggs to make up for the horrible midterm I just wrote. And the sad thing is, the exam itself was pretty fair. If I had gotten my act together and studied, I would have done really well. Which makes me quite sad and is also not normal. Usually, I either study too much for an exam and freak out when I get the paper, or study and receive the exam and don't have a clue (ie. Calculus). I don't like feeling that I could have done much better.

Things are moving forward, man. I have links to three potential jobs, and an 'in' on work in the Yukon. Apparently, I'm on a list that was given to the head of the company which basically says, "You need to hire these kids when you get their resumes". Which is both super cool and a little scary. 

Here's an issue I was thinking about last night. Recently, someone de-friended me on Facebook and I noticed and thought, "Heeeyyyy, that's not nice!" But truthfully, he's not a part of my life anymore. We don't call or text. So there was no real reason to be upset, but I think it's just the fact that someone saw my name and thought, "Huh. I have absolutely no reason to ever contact her again. Delete." No one likes being the delete-ee, even if they've been the delete-er fairly often. I'm overthinking this.

Enjoy the sunshine.

It's gotta get bad before it gets good, I want it good now, but it's gotta get bad before it gets good

Drinking cherry cola out of an old-fashioned glass bottle right now and enjoying the taste of childhood. Looks like Reading Break will be comprised of work and reading and hopefully some adventures, though everyone seems to be heading home or to the You Ess of Eh. 


Went to see The King's Speech last night with WS, and it was fabulous. Really wonderful acting. Unfortunately, we caught the late showing and had to power out of the theatre as soon as the movie ended in order to catch the last bus home, forcing me to ditch the popcorn bag under some guy's car halfway across the parking lot. But we made the bus, so it was all good.

Here are the Things On My Desk Right Now: a telephone that has never worked, various dishes, three binders and my notepad and pen, a couple of metal trays for organizing assignments (ha ha), Conrad's Heart of Darkness, Thoreau's collected journals, a book by M.C. Beaton, The Best of Tchaikovsky, another random CD, my purse, cherry cola, and sunshine. How boring. Someone told me once that you could judge how someone lives their life by studying their desktop debris. I hope not. 

Happy Valentine's Day

What a marvelous way to mark the anniversary of a Saint's beheading. Not that I'm bitter.


A guy just rode past on a unicycle with a bicycle attachment and the people at the table next to me were vehemently debating the logistics of how he was able to get on the contraption without faceplanting. And a normally scruffy, overeager guy from History just showed up in the cafe in a suit. Bizarre-ness.

Everyone is looking forward to what comes next

Anthony Germane (I don't know if that's how you spell his name, and I don't care enough to look it up) is explaining to me why the people of Egypt love the military. Thanks, Anthony.


Yesterday, AC/DC played on full blast for about five hours. Today, it's the Glee soundtrack, and it's been going since 8:30. I've got to get out of here. I'll plan on heading over to SL's place later this afternoon, when one of them is awake. I never thought I'd have a noise problem living in a house with a couple much older than myself.


Um. I've been sick this past week and have been living out of an aspirin bottle. My joints ache, there's an strange rash on my chest, and the doctor has referred me to get some bloodwork done. So I'm kind of nervous about that.


4 midterms this week. Oh, man.

Oh, but what really happens when we draw those lines in the sand? What if the lines spelled out "You're hurting me"?

Happy Birthday, SC! In celebration of your special day, I'm posting one of my favourite pictures. I hope the cake is amazing and that turning twenty years of age is just as much, if not more, than it's cracked up to be.


So I'm sitting in front of the computer with a bowl of banana-yogurt-granola goodness and an extremely cold nose. I have an 800-word book report to write tonight on a book that I haven't yet finished. Good times. Today I was in a computer lab for Canadian History participating in a special "this is how you use the library system, and I'll tell you exactly how to research your topic but what I'm saying won't actually make much of an impact because most of you are on Facebook right now" workshop. And the lady giving the presentation asked the girl sitting next to me, just as a joke, if she would call her mom when trying to pick out a research avenue. And the girl responded that her mom was actually an archival librarian, so yes, as a matter of fact, she would. Talk about luck of the draw.


I stupidly left my computer cord at SL's house last night and headed over to retrieve it after class. When I walked into the house, WS and MS were inhaling plates of delicious-smelling greasy food. And when I commented that it was lucky that both of them were done classes so early, they shot each other uneasy glances and W blurted out that they actually hadn't attended classes today, ahem. They both looked so sheepish that it was hard not to laugh.


Man, I've felt like crying all day for no particular reason, and my shoulders keep hunching up of their own accord. Hopefully it's just hormones and this black mood sorts itself out. I think it may be a good idea to lay low for the next week; school, work, sleeping at my own house. That should do it.

Rap muffinzzz

Morning, everyone. I'm listening to really old bad popular music and contemplating granola, even though in a short amount of time I should be heading off to devour delicious crepes with friends. Yesterday I found this really old book of poems that I've had forever but couldn't remember where I had gotten them. I was flipping through the pages and found, "Hey Laura, Saw this and just thought you may enjoy it, From D", written on the coverslip. And I suddenly felt really bad that I never talk to this guy anymore because he lives in Saskatchewan and is a major construction worker. It kind of got me down. Friends are probably more important to a persons wellbeing than we realize.
  

We will recommend to our government not to intervene as the risks are high and all that is here are humans

 

I have managed to snag a copy of Shake Hands With the Devil from that guy I've been seeing lately. Good thing we both have similar tastes in literature; I'm almost 99% certain that I'll slowly end up pilfering all the interesting novels out of his room. He'll also be pretty lucky if he gets his water bottle back.

Man, is there ever a ton of homework to do. Two novels, two essays, a paragraph for English that totally slipped my mind. But right now I'm sitting in a small patch of sunshine and really can't be bothered to get up and Do Stuff. I also have an eggplant in the fridge that I don't know what to do with, sitting beside a full container of buttermilk intended for scones. Gotta get on that.

Listen to this song:  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=htSXKYs8sQM&feature=related

Still no word about the Yukon job. 

Not many ways out of this cold northern town, You work in the mill and get laid in the ground

 

That used to be my favourite song to listen to while driving with my dad in his old truck. I thought the plush red seats were so fancy, even though they were coated in logging road dust. Dad always had a thermos of tea, and I would pour us both a mug and share it for the duration of the trip. Driving with Mom, there always had to be some conversation occurring, but with Dad we could just enjoy the silence. I think I take after him more than I realize sometimes.

I just finished eating a deee-lish dinner of steamed spinach/tomato stuff over a bed of warm lemon potatoes. Except that I didn't think when adding the lemon juice to the potatoes and threw in a couple of tablespoons of milk as well. Oops. Anyway, it turned out fine.

My landlady came home to find that her husband had bought her a new pair of shoes and thrown out the old ones. She found it hysterically funny and laughed her head off while I just stared at her in amazement. If that has happened to me, I would have gone on the warpath, with the battle cry being Don't Touch My Shit. Probably why her marriage has lasted and I've been told that I'll end up dying alone.

The fall probably knocked some sense into me

Hey, it's the first day of a new month. Time for new beginnings, yes? No?


I'm sitting in a coffee shop "studying" for my philosophy midterm by drinking chai and eating a cranberry scone. That sentence sounds so urbane that I'm also slightly ashamed of myself. There are still some terms that I'm slightly foggy on (ex. a priori & a posteriori), but I'm pretty sure that I could draw Pascal's flow chart in my sleep. And did you know that epistomology, the "study of knowledge" (kind of), is apparently a vital component in quantum mechanics? Take that, Uncle Vaughn; philosophy is too applicable in the real world. And besides, a relative who tells me that my courses are useless and then turns around and rambles on and on about how Marley & Me is the best book that he's ever read loses some credibility, in my eyes.

These guys sitting behind me keep shouting about how they have to "Get the buzz going! Get the buzz going!" They are both wearing massive black coats and skinny jeans. I kind of want to know what the buzz is and where it's going.


There are vital things that I need to buy, but keep putting off because I can't bring myself to go shopping. Boots. Groceries. A ton of those ziploc lunch containers. Jeans. A proper coffee cup. I'll sign off now, because I'm boring you to death.


SC and ER, if you guys read this before I get ahold of you, do you want to go down to Chinatown sometime soon and buy a large amount of funky fruit? I am excited about this.