If you're east of the Mississippi, you may have heard talk of a mythical land to the west, where the temperature may burst your thermometer, buy you'd never notice because the heat simply floats away with the negligible humidity - it's a "dry heat" as they say. One of the first things I learned in Arizona was the only difference between a "wet heat" and a "dry heat" is that you sweat in a wet heat and you don't in a dry heat. You are miserable in both of them. They jury is still out on whether the arid or the humid is more oppressive, but 117 degrees is still hot no matter where you're from. It's like standing under a heat lamp with a blow dryer in your face. By the end of the summer, the first day the heat drops below 100 will be the best day of your life. That's just not right.
Driving in Phoenix
Phoenix is the 5th most populous city in the US, with about 1.5 million people. When you include the entire Phoenix metro area, that jumps up to about 4.3 million people. And this is spread out over 16,573 sq. miles of desert. Needless to say, everyone drives in Phoenix. It would probably take you an hour to drive from one side of the Valley to the other (that's on major highways) and all you would see is the same sun-bleached concrete wonderland. Who knows how long it would take during rush hour. Yes, there are buses, but unless you live right in the middle of the population center, you won't get anywhere in a timely fashion. In fact, there are some places the buses don't even run to yet, since the city is just so vast. And motorists in Phoenix are crazy. Maybe they're all angry and sick of driving, too. More likely they're all just trying to shave off whatever seconds they can from their drive time, since it's at least a 30 minute commute to anywhere. Plus Phoenix is #1 in the country for red light running fatalities. Mesa is #3. I could happily go without having to drive through that insanity ever again.
Snowbirds
The only thing worse than being stuck in 120 degree heat is being surrounded by rich old people who think that Phoenix is just the most wonderful place in the world because they're rich and retired and can afford to live in a pleasant part of the country during the summer.
The Desert
Yeah, the desert is kind of cool. But it's also kind of lame. In reality it may be teeming with life, but everything looks brown and gray and dead most of the year. Every plant has spikes, not just the cactus. You have to constantly monitor your every movement, lest one of them jump out and attack you. I was lucky enough to have the full desert experience and actually get a piece of cactus stuck in my leg. And if the plants aren't enough, watch out where you sit, because the scorpions and the rattlesnakes will get you next. Or maybe the killer bees if you happen to stumble on a hive, which could be anywhere. You have to make an expedition across the wilderness to find any kind of water, the ground is made of solid rock, and there is no shade. It's basically an unrelenting, barren wasteland.
Jobs
Obviously. Of course, if it weren't for the crappy jobs that Shawn and I had in Phoenix, we probably wouldn't be on our way to Korea right now. But we're both more than happy to be rid of them. Of all the jobs I've had so far, I've never made anything higher than $8.50/hr, and if I ever have to go back to a job like that....well, it won't be pretty.
Or should I say lack of weather? Aside from the occasional dust storm or furtive sprinkle of rain in the night, every day in Phoenix is warm and dry. No need to check the Weather Channel or even stick your head out the window. If it's getting close to winter, you might want to take a jacket in the evening, but otherwise the forecast is great. When we left Phoenix, we had initially planned to camp wherever we could along the way. However, those plans quickly changed when we hit New Mexico and realized that not everywhere is as warm and cozy as the Valley of the Sun. Other places are, in fact, incredibly cold and windy. And also covered in snow. So we nixed the camping, but we did stop and see White Sands National Monument and Carlsbad Caverns. Then, after we finally drove all the way to Louisiana, we found out that this is the wettest December they've had in, like, maybe ever? Seriously, why won't it stop raining?? I could use some desert sun right about now.
Cheap movie theaters
Who has money these days? Not I. Certainly not enough to spend at the local megaplex. And how many of those movies are really worth it anyway? Not to worry - if you wait a few weeks, that film that you thought looked pretty good but you didn't want to shill out $10 for will probably have a second run down at Pollack Tempe Cinemas for only $3! $2 if you manage to go on a Tuesday! Then again, if you really just can't wait, load up the car with all the snacks you can carry and drive on over to the Scottsdale West Wind Drive-In. A double feature every night for only $6.25, and only $4.25 on Tuesdays! What's so special about Tuesdays around these parts, I don't know, but I do know it'll probably be awhile before I get a movie deal that good again.
Hiking
Arizona was made for hiking. In my 10 months there, I didn't even begin to scratch the surface of the infinite amount of trails weaving across every part of the state. Shawn and I topped a couple of peaks right in the heart of Phoenix, but didn't even have time to work our way to the massive mountain park right in our back yard. Not to mention the labyrinth of trails through the Superstition Mountains, just east of the city, or the Mogollon Rim to the north. Somehow we made it to the top of Humphrey's Peak, but that's just one mountain (and one trail) in all of the San Francisco Peaks around Flagstaff. And don't even get me started on the Grand Canyon ...
The Desert
The Sonoran Desert, anyway. I don't know about other deserts, but Sonora is a pretty cool place. There are a lot of plants and animals there, that don't live anywhere else in the world, like gila monsters, coatimundi, and of course the saguaro cactus, plus a ton of others that you won't see on the East coast. The landscapes are amazing, and despite how brown everything may look most of the year, in the spring everything blooms in awesome color.
Space Mountain
There aren't really any significant landmarks in Phoenix ... except for Space Mountain. A red, blinking mass of radio and television towers set high atop a ridge that can be seen from nearly anywhere in the city. I don't know what it's really called (or if it has a name at all), but Shawn and I were quick to realize that these eerie towers were not of this world, and Space Mountain was born. We were lucky enough to live in the neighborhood closest to the beacon, and it was always a welcome sight, guiding us home from wherever we might stray. I shall truly miss its unearthly warm, glowing, warming glow.
I think this is a valid question, despite the fact that he has starred in 15 motion pictures. Actually "starred" might be the wrong word, since in the majority of these films Mr. Bloom is either outshined by his costars (PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN), part of an ensemble cast (LORD OF THE RINGS, TROY), or hardly in the film at all (BLACK HAWK DOWN). I have to admit that I have never seen (or really heard of) HAVEN, nor have I seen ELIZABETHTOWN, but they have a 21% and 17% rating, respectively, from top critics on Rotten Tomatoes, and Bloom's performances are described as "the weakest in a mixed bag" and "bland."
So what do these films tell us about the enigmatic Orlando? Well, he's certainly good at swordplay, speaking elvish, and wearing period costumes. If you're looking for expressive eyebrow movement, he's your man. And he's definitely a pretty face. But does any of that constitute "acting?" Granted, the role of Legolas didn't really call for much more than someone with a pretty face who can pull off pointy ears. And I admit that as Will Turner, he was a good straight man to Johnny Depp's excessively wacky Captain Jack Sparrow (in the first POTC anyway). But an action-packed, swashbuckling high-seas adventure doesn't exactly need nuance. Was Bloom really that bad in HAVEN and ELIZABETHTOWN, or can some of blame be laid on writer/directors (Frank E. Flowers and Cameron Crowe, respectively) for sticking him in a no-win situation? Could it be that Hollywood just hasn't given him a chance to break out from behind those angelic good looks?
To some extent, I think he has been pigeonholed. The LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy was the chance of a lifetime, and for his first major film role Bloom definitely stood out in his blond wig and green tights, especially to the female viewers (myself included). So of course, when a casting director for the next big blockbuster is looking for a love interest who can grow a wispy mustache and fill out some chain mail, the dreamy Brit is at the top of the list. But Bloom isn't a big action star. When you've got a movie (TROY) with Brad Pitt on steroids playing a one-man army, the skinny little mop-head is totally lost in the scenery Plus, Paris is a pretty wimpy character to begin with. In fact, I'm not sure that Bloom is a star at all. Of all the films he has been in, I never think of any of them as "Orlando Bloom films." I think of them more as "films that Orlando Bloom happens to be in."
Yet, despite his track record so far, part of me has always held a little light of hope for our underwhelming hero. Most of that hope has been riding on one mysterious film - THE CALCIUM KID. I say mysterious, because I have been seeking out this film on and off for the last five years, to no avail. Back in early 2004 (or was it late 2003?) I was floating around the Interwebs, when I stumbled upon the website for London-based Working Title Films, which produces some great British films (and almost every Coen brothers film since 1991). That day I discovered two films, one of which was a romantic comedy with zombies - SHAUN OF THE DEAD. The other was THE CALCIUM KID - a mockumentary style comedy that follows Jimmy Connelly, a young milkman and aspiring boxer who, due to his rock-hard, calcium-enriched bones, unexpectedly ends up in a bout against the middleweight world champion ... starring Orlando Bloom.
Orlando Bloom in a comedy! Orlando Bloom without any incredibly epic battle scenes or even a romantic storyline. Can Orlando Bloom be funny? Can he carry a film? Can he be the star?? Now this I gotta see. The only problem is that this film was never released in the US and still to this date is only available on Region 2 DVD (i.e. - won't play in US/Region 1 DVD players). In fact, according to IMDB, it was only released on 82 screens in the UK. Needless to say, I gave up hope of ever being able to answer the riddle of Orlando Bloom. THE CALCIUM KID would forever be a puzzle, unless I made a trip to Europe, or at least bought a universal DVD player.
That was before the advent of Netflix. Netflix, how did we ever live without you? Before Netflix my chances of ever seeing CALCIUM KID were minuscule at best. However, today not only can you receive movies through the mail, but also through the same series of tubes that brings this blog to you now. And the tubes do not have regions. So after a long hiatus, when the mystery movie somehow resurfaced in my consciousness, I turned to Netflix and lo and behold there it was, right at my fingertips. I settled down in front of my computer, hit play, and prepared myself for Orlando Bloom enlightenment. An hour and a half later I had my answer...
Can Orlando Bloom act? - Yes. Can he star in a film? - Not at all.
THE CALCIUM KID was not a laugh riot, but it was a good film. I enjoyed it. Bloom does well as the naïve but well-meaning milkman, but most of the comedy comes from the supporting cast. Omid Djalili (GLADIATOR, CASANOVA) plays Jimmy's weasel of a manager who is determined to use the big fight to launch himself to fame, Rafe Spall (HOT FUZZ) plays Jimmy's chav best friend and self-appointed "motivator," and David Kelly (CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY) plays Jimmy's drunken Irish stereotype of a coach. Bloom has a few laughs, like when he explains his morning workout:
Or when he finally loses it before the big fight:
But even though he is the lead, mostly he just plays straight man to the other wacky characters. Hmm, sounds familiar.
But this movie isn't a mis-step for Orlando. Rather, I think it's a step in the right direction. Like I said earlier, Bloom wasn't made for action films - he's thin and totally unimposing - but that's why he's perfect for a role like CALCIUM KID. Basically the joke of the entire movie is that a puny, unassuming kid is attempting to fight an egocentric knockout professional. It's the most believable role Orlando Bloom has ever had.
Bloom didn't skyrocket to fame because of some acclaimed breakout role that proved his acting chops. He became famous because he looks like an elf. And his Hollywood career has pretty much continued based solely on his looks - he's a box office draw for the ladies. So I think his overnight stardom was as much of a surprise to him as to anyone, just like Jimmy Connelly. That unassuming, naïve quality suits him. Plus Bloom isn't hunky. Hell, he isn't even handsome. He's pretty, like a doll. Pair that with a child-like sense of wonder and it makes him cute, like a puppy. No wonder he seems ineffectual in most of his films.
So here's my advice, Orlando: lay off the dashing hero act and stick to comedy. You don't always have to be the simple straight man, but take it easy until you've got enough experience you can carry the film as the lead. No more swords and battles, or even guns and chases (although it seems you're already learning martial arts for a new venture. *sigh*). Tone it down and try some more roles where you actually have to act instead of epically running around defending people's honor. I still haven't given up on you. We haven't seen you on the big screen in a few years, but this new film SYMPATHY FOR DELICIOUS seems like it could be promising. I said you can act, so prove me right!
Also, stop trying to grow facial hair. You're better off without it.
Ah, Thanksgiving - the most American of all holidays. Dysfunctional families gather from all corners of the country to spend one long weekend arguing, over-eating, and watching sports until they slip into a quiet food coma, only to arise at an absurd hour the next morning so they can trample and claw their way through the mall to get some "DOORBUSTER" sales that are inexplicably offered only one day a year.
Okay, so that might not be everyone's experience (and I'm happy to say not mine, besides the over-eating and football), but it's the tradition, right? And what is Thanksgiving if not a day steeped in tradition? The turkey and pumpkin pie, the Macy's parade, the Indians helping the Pilgrims survive the harsh winter, and the Pilgrims stealing their land and spreading smallpox in return. It reminds me of a Spanish class I had in middle school where a fellow student asked, "Mrs. Serrano, how do they celebrate Thanksgiving in Mexico?" He was utterly baffled to learn there is no Thanksgiving in Mexico.
How could this be? Aren't the Mexicans thankful for...stuff? Don't they love parades and stuffing their faces? Don't they love suicidal holiday shopping?! What could be more universal than a day to stop and celebrate the good things in life (while eating no less!)?
Of course, what our young, ignorant friend did not realize (and still may not) is that people all over the world DO celebrate thanksgiving, just not with a capital T. No, that distinction is reserved only for the unique overindulgence which takes place in the U.S. (and also some strange perversion of it in Canada). What most Americans have forgotten is that behind all the terrifying giant balloons and the mythical buckled hats, Thanksgiving is in essence a harvest festival. For hundreds of years, agrarian societies around the world have held celebrations where families gather to give thanks for their crops and to feast on the newly harvested food. So, in light of my upcoming world travels, and to give this wandering blog a point, here is a quick lesson about Chuseok - the Korean Thanksgiving:
Chuseok (추석) is a big deal in Korea. Well, that's my understanding anyway, since I haven't been there yet! The holiday falls on the 15th day of the 8th month of the lunar calendar (which I don't understand at all), so it's actually on a different day every year. This year Chuseok was October 3, but much like Americans, Koreans usually like to make the holiday a three-day affair, from Oct. 2-4. Honestly there are a few more cross-cultural similarities, namely family and food. Everyone loves some holiday travel, right? For Chuseok, the whole country makes a mass exodus back to their hometowns to visit family and honor their ancestors. And what better way to honor them than with gluttony? Alright, well I can't say for sure if Koreans have as much a reputation for holiday binging as Americans, but they sure do make a good spread.
I don't know what most of that food is, but it looks delicious from here. Actually, the major food of Chuseok is called songpyeon, which are those colorful little cakes you saw earlier. Songpyeon on Chuseok is like turkey on Thanksgiving - it's not Chuseok without it. It's made of rice that's kneaded into perfect little pockets and then filled with things like sesame seeds, red beans, or chesnuts, before steaming them over a layer of pine needles. Yum, can't wait to try it!
This hearty feast you see is part of a Chuseok tradition called Charye. On Chuseok morning, families gather together to hold a memorial service to thank and honor their ancestors with all the delicious freshly harvested food. After the service, everyone chows down. But don't settle in for a nap, yet, because after the meal it's time to head to the graveyard and actually visit those folks that came before us. Plus a little weed-pulling and headstone-buffing to work off that breakfast. Traditionally, the rest of the holiday is filled with games and dances and music to celebrate the harvest. I'm not sure how widely practiced these activities are among your average Korean these days, but there are plenty of places for tourists to see a traditional Chuseok festival. I imagine that most Koreans, like most Americans, are just happy for some time to relax and visit family.
So now you can go ahead, slather gravy over everything, sink your teeth into that drumstick, and feel a little more worldly as you do. This time next year, I'll probably be explaining what a turkey is to Korean rugrats.
I don't know how many times a day I've had to say those words in the last 5 months, but never once was it the truth. Until today...
Okay, actually today was still a crappy day at Dunkin', because it's a crappy place to work, because all fast-food places are crappy places to work. But today was a slightly better day at Dunkin' than all the rest, because today was my last day! My last day ever putting on a headset and trying to decipher mumbled drive-thru orders. My last day spilling hot coffee all over my hands. My last day holding my tongue for ridiculously picky and demanding customers. Unfortunately it's also my last day covertly stealing donuts. But they did let me keep my uniform! Maybe I'll be able to use it to sneak into a Korean Dunkin' Donuts and snatch some free breakfast. Like some delicious sesame tofu rings or glutinous rice sticks. YUM!
I know I've been name-dropping this South Korea place a lot lately, but only a few pertinent details here and there. So just to make sure everyone's on the same page, here's what's really going down:
"Why South Korea?" you might ask. Well, for starter's Shawn has a friend from college who is currently on his third year teaching in Korea, so we had some initial insider low-down. Shawn had actually mulled over this scenario at different times in the past, but none of those times happened to be the right one. Then one day in July, Shawn said something to the effect of "Why don't we try teaching in Korea?" and I said "Sure" and the rest is history. Actually, as we've found in our research and application process, Korea is a great place for English teachers. You don't need any type of teaching experience. All you need is to speak English and have a Bachelor's in any field ... well, those are the minimum requirements anyway, but more on that later.
So we turned to the answer for every question - the Internet - and we came across a great place called Footprints Recruiting. The good people at Footprints specialize in helping hopeless wanderers make their dreams come true; we told them we wanted to go to Korea, and they filled us in on a little thing called EPIK (English Program in Korea). EPIK is essentially the government program that's in charge of all English teaching in Korean public schools, and because the Korean government has promised to have an English teacher in every public school, they make it very enticing for us native speakers:
We get paid a minimum of 1.9 million Korean Won (about $1700) per month. Shawn and I are both in the process of complete a TEFL course, which will bump our pay up to 2.1 million KRW ($1900) a month. Plus this is all tax-free income.
Our housing is FREE and furnished.
Our airfare is FREE (reimbursed in our first month pay).
We are guaranteed 25-30 work hours a week, NO WEEKENDS, and ample overtime pay if our work exceeds this for some reason.
18 paid vacation days + Korean national holidays.
We have complete medical coverage under Korean national health insurance, half of which is paid for by our employer.
If we complete our contracts, we get a nice severance pay, or a resigning bonus if we decide to stay and teach for another year.
Needless to say, Shawn and I were sold. So we got the wheels rolling on an application process that proved to be far more involved than I expected. Surprise - if you want get a government job in a foreign country you have to provide a lot of paperwork and documentation! Luckily we were on top of our game, and several background checks, notarizations, reference letters and transcripts later we were first in line for the EPIK interviews in October. Which we aced, of course.
Now here we sit, a whole 4 months later, waiting for our official contracts to arrive, while we slowly start to pack things up and get the heck out of Phoenix. We're hitting the open road late on December 3rd, and taking our sweet time to meander eastward. First Louisiana (where we'll take a month-long hiatus) then across the Gulf and up the east coast to Virginia, where we'll settle for a little while before we trot 'round the globe in February. Of course, it won't all be peaches and cream and vagabonding for two months. There's still plenty of paperwork to slog through, and as we've found, hardly anything goes right the first time, so we're making sure we've got plenty of leeway for mistakes and redos.
So there you have the epilogue (or maybe I should say epiblog - ha HA!) to the SoKo story. It's going to be an epic.
So I've definitely realized one thing: I'm not great at blogging. I can't continuously share all the random thoughts I have and interesting things I do every day, because then I have to actually interpret them into words and coherently communicate them. And if you can say one thing about my thoughts, it's that they're rarely coherent. And honestly, how interesting are the things I do every day?
So what brings me back to this forgotten wasteland of bloggery? And why bother redecorating? Well, what do you know, I've gone and decided to do something interesting again! At least interesting enough that I figure one or two people (Mom and Dad) will want to be filled in. And to answer the second question - I was bored.
So if you know me at all, this can only mean one thing - I'm leaving town! Leaving the country to be more specific. I'm headed to the Mystic East, and the best part is Shawn's coming with me! We both got jobs teaching in English in South Korea. In public schools, as government employees, no less. Yes, it sounds like the delirious ramblings of an opium addict, but it's all true.
So stay tuned for the exciting build-up to our February departure and then onward for a year of insanity!
At this moment I am sitting on the floor of the bedroom in my new apartment, leaning against my new bed, which is decked out in new (very cheap) sheets. I am now in Phoenix. My job at the park ended on Monday, and by Monday night I was moved out of the trailer and into my new city digs. I am also newly unemployed.
It's been great so far.
I have a new Arizona driver's license, a new Arizona license plate on a new car (that I actually paid for myself!).
There are probably a lot of pretty insightful things - personal thoughts and feelings - about this whole new state of affairs, but it seems my attention span for the Interweb has almost completely disappeared. I'm sorry. I really am. But it's already taken me probably 20 minutes just to write this much, and I don't know how much longer I can keep it up.
Needless to say, probably any and all updates henceforth will mostly be brief, dull, to the point, so if you dare to continue reading, bless you.
Anyway... the park was great. I met some cool people, I got some good experience, and I made a move across the country. Now I'm here, jobless (at least temporarily), but with a place of my own, with a man that I love, and I'm ready to get on with the ever-continuing future. Woohoo! The possibilities are endless!
Starting tomorrow is my last work week at Tonto. This time next week I will be moved into the apartment - for reals. I am both jubilant and just slightly nervous, since (at the moment) I'm not sure if I will have a follow-up job. The interview at the Science Center seemed to go well, but apparently they have a much more in depth hiring process than I expected, so I'm still waiting to see if I've been deemed worthy of a second interview.
Other than that, things have been business as usual. I have one more tour left to give. Yesterday Shawn and I went to hike up Piestewa Peak - one of the many mountains in many municipal parks in Phoenix. It's no Katahdin or anything, but it's the first mountain I've really hiked up in awhile and the first one in the unrelenting desert sun. Luckily we were smart enough to start earlier in the day - before the thermometer hit 100 degrees - so it wasn't too bad. Plus, I saw a chuckwalla!
You know how it never rains in southern California? Well the same goes for Arizona. Well, sometimes it rains, like when it monsoons in late summer. But don't bother to check the 10 day forecast any other time. I'll save you the trouble - it's sunny, with a possible chance of wind. And I love it.
And the best part about this neverending solar landscape - a readily available source of clean energy? Psh, no. Behold the watch tan:
I now have less than three weeks of work left out at good old Tonto. My official last day of work is April 27. Really, I am now just counting down every day until then. This job has been great, and I'm definitely glad to have had it (hopefully it will give a big boost to my resume). But now that Shawn is here and I've got other plans to look forward to, I just want to get on with it. My days spent in Phoenix have been awesome, not only because of all the fun I have with Shawn, but because I get a little preview of a whole future of fun with him. Decorating the apartment, exploring the city, riding bikes, taking trips, eating pizza, watching movies... just sitting on the (future) couch, watching (future) TV and being boring! Having an apartment - and a life - together, period! It's everything we've been waiting for ever since we finished the Trail, and now it's soooo close! Every time I'm in Phoenix I'm at home, but I always have to spend a lame 5-day weekend out at the park until my job is done. I'm ready to move on.
In the meantime, however, I'm still working/living at the park, and a few things have transpired since my last post on this increasingly neglected blog. Firstly, after my inaugural trip to my new soon-to-be home, I was treated to a little change-up in the daily Tonto routine. Jenny, the biotech person on the park's resources team, was going out to find some old survey plots in the park. I assume they were to be resurveyed at some point....for what, I don't know. Honestly, I didn't know too much about what was going on at all. I just knew that I got to go tramping off the beaten path and I didn't have to spend all day sitting at the visitors' center. We scrambled up some pretty steep ridgelines around the Upper Cliffs and found only one of the two plots. I didn't actually do a whole lot besides tag along and occasionally hold a measuring tape, but Jenny gave me a brief lesson in using a compass and a GPS - something I'd eventually like to learn more about - so that was nice. I'm supposed to spend another day helping Jenny out soon. I have no idea what it will involve.
The next few days were business as usual until Monday - my big tour debut. I spent whatever time I could recramming books of information into my brain, pouring over photos of wildflowers, trying to develop some kind of cohesiveness. I finally came to the conclusion that I would have to wing it, just like most other things in my life. And I think it turned out for the best. Everyone made it there and back alive, anyway. The group was a bunch of senior citizens from Mesa (probably from an RV park) who hike together, so it was nice to have one unified group. They were very nice and understanding, since they were my guinea pig tour. But I think I did do a pretty good job relaying everything I've learned in the past two months (which is quite a lot, I must say). Most of all, it was just nice to get the whole thing over with - pop my tour guide cherry, so to speak. Now I feel much more comfortable about future tours, the few that I will have.
In other news, the Lower Cliffs were closed for awhile due to the many many many bees that live up there. Africanized "killer" bees, that is. There are at least four hives in the nooks and crannies surrounding the cave, and it took a little while to get them all sprayed. There were a few extra boring days spent entirely at the visitors' center, since my shifts at the Cliffs were more or less cancelled. Now the bees seem to have been taken care of, or mellowed down at least, so things are back to usual. Besides bees, I've seen one more diamondback (that makes 5) and another gopher snake, and also my first giant, horrifying centipede. I'm talking about six inches long, with at least 40 legs, perched in the corner right about the VC entrance. I shudder at the thought of ever finding one of those in my trailer. There have also been a few scorpion sightings (which I'm not quite as worried about) and a couple of gila monsters, which I have yet to see for myself. Hopefully one will pop his head out in the next three weeks. Also, next week I have an interview for a job at the Arizona Science Center, in downtown Phoenix. From what I can tell, it's basically the same job I have now, except in a big science museum instead of ancient Indian ruins. Keeps your fingers crossed!
That's about all I can think of for now. Like I said, I'm just biding my time in the trailer, starting to gear myself up for my awesome relocation. I don't know what I'll do when I don't have anymore calendar countdowns to occupy me...
Forgive me. It doesn't take long for me to become very lax in blog updating. Probably because I can only use the Internet once a week, and often I'd rather be spending that free time doing something else. You know, since I'm in a whole new world and there are things to see and trails to hike and explorations to be had. Especially since Shawn is finally here! That's right, the long saga is finally at an end. His cross-country expedition went off without a hitch, and now he's in one awesome apartment in Phoenix (which is actually where I am writing this from). So now my days off will be filled up with wonderful adventures instead of sleeping til noon and then wandering aimlessly about Globe. So much to do and see and smell and eat! We've already hit up In-N-Out Burger and Alice Cooper's Cooper'stown, seen The Watchmen, and made plans to see a "Cactus League" spring training baseball game. Not to mention that someday we will have to get furniture for this apartment...
On the workfront, last weekend was the park's annual open house. This is the only weekend all year that they open the trail to the Upper Cliffs and let the public walk up on their own, without a reservation. Of course, they still have to have employees posted about the park to keep an eye on everyone, so on Saturday I got to spend the entire day sitting at the Upper Cliffs. It started off crazy, but the crowd tapered off as the day went on. I did have to reacquaint myself to working with Jan. She'd been on sick leave for several days (due to allergies they say). Sunday was thankfully much slower; I got to spend a few quick hours up at the Lower Cliffs and then mosey on down to the entrance kiosk to take people's money. I have to say, that the kiosk was pretty sweet. All I had to do was wait for a car to pull up, answer a couple of basic questions, take their fee, and then wave them onward to someone else. The rest of the time I put my feet up and solved some Sudoku puzzles. You get a cd player in there and it could be a pretty sweet gig. Too bad they don't actually use the kiosk the rest of the year. Also, next Monday I will finally be giving my first official tour to the Upper Cliffs. I guess I had better get back to studying so I can say something besides "uhh" or "I don't really know."
The snake count is up to five - four western diamondback rattlers and one gopher snake. One time I also saw a raven grabbing a snake off the road. I think it was some kind of omen. For what, I haven't yet discovered.
And now, my patience for blogging has reached its limit. I'll get back to you again someday. Happy Spring!
My car fiasco is finally over. I found someone to buy Fancy Cletus for parts. I got a whole $300. Soon I might get a little more for the tires.
It's getting pretty warm out here. I got my first sunburn a few weeks ago (i.e. - in February). The last time I got sunburned in February, I was in Australia and it was the middle of summer.
I've now seen three roadrunners. Also several rabbits, quail, squirrels, and a few deer. Still only one coyote, though.
We have a new seasonal guide working at the park - Beverly. She's wacky.
I will finally be conducting my own Upper Cliff tours, starting in a week or two. Woohoo.
I'm almost halfway through this internship. Soon I'll have to find another job. Oh my.
Shawn is about to embark on a whirlwind road trip across half the country, culminating in his long-awaited arrival in Phoenix! I can hardly contain myself...
In my last post I mentioned that old habits die hard. And, boy, do they ever. I had no idea exactly how hard. With a crash, even. Let me clarify…
It all started last week. I departed from Tonto National Monument uncharacteristically early for me on a day off. But I was embarking on a journey down the Apache Trail – an old road between Roosevelt and Apache Junction (a suburb of Phoenix) that was created when the dam was being built in 1906. Today it’s a regular route for tourists, since it winds through the scenic canyons along the Salt River. At work, I get at least 20 questions a day about this road, so I figured I had better check it out for myself. And it was indeed scenic – winding over, under, and around mountains and red rock cliffs, past lakes, through valleys of saguaro. I stopped along the road every couple of miles to take pictures. I ate lunch at the mining town-turned-tourist trap wayside of Tortilla Flat (not the one of Steinbeck fame, unfortunately), and jotted mental notes to write about the swarm of retirees and the prickly pear ice cream (disappointing). But alas, this blog is not the one I had envisioned.
As I ended my early morning on Arizona’s beautiful byway, I was confronted with the hustle and bustle of urbania and opted to conclude my venture and return to Globe. After another two hour drive (which was scenic all its own) I returned to the familiar burg. I made appearances at all my regular haunts – the library, the grocery store, the gas station – and began to make for home, since it was already dark. But my eagerness was a fateful one. As I approached the intersection, the light changed to green, inviting me to hurry on home. However, it failed to warn me of the oncoming car, to which I was supposed to yield … and the rest is history. And so is Fancy Cletus (my Jeep, to those of you who don’t know him).
No one was hurt in the wreck, thank God, but I was quite rattled, angry at myself, and immediately stressed, because I knew I was going to be out of a lot of money, one way or another. Susan picked me up and brought me back to the park, where I was now presented with the dilemma of being stranded 30 miles from anywhere and with no car. And, as I said, sometimes old habits die hard.
My current living situation put an interesting twist on my previous concept of the work/home dichotomy, and I am, oh, so lucky it did. And I am, oh, so lucky my coworkers/neighbors are not elitist hermits like myself. As news of my accident spread, everyone made clear that they would be more than happy to help me out. Since the wreck was my fault, I had to take a defensive driving class, all the way in Fountain Hills (northern Phoenix), which Susan volunteered to shuttle me to and from. Brian talked to his friend at the garage in town so that I wouldn't have to pay storage fees on the jeep, since I had no idea when I would be back. Patrick and Jan let me borrow their internet to furiously research Craigslist for a new vehicle (with extra help from Shawn and my parents), and Patrick drove me all the way to downtown Phoenix when I finally found one. Say hello to Fancy Clementine...
Yes, that is the original color. Purple? Magenta? Plum? I'm not sure what it's called, but I think Fancy Cletus would approve. The point is, if I hadn't been living in the same place that I work - if I hadn't had amazing neighbors, who I also happen to work with - I never would have found her. I am eternally grateful.
Unfortunately, however, Fancy Cletus is definitely a goner. I will miss him. We had some great times, and I was hoping to have more. But c'est la vie. I think Fancy Clementine will bear his torch well. Right now, Brian and Patrick are still helping me out, trying to find someone who might buy Cletus for parts. He was an organ donor. He will live on in other jeeps.
The moral of the story is, appreciate what you've got. Before last week, I never thought about losing my car, but there it went (and a whole lot of money with it). Before last week, I never thought of mixing work and play, but for no particular reason, and I was lucky to find that I work with people better than I. Perhaps now my old habit has breathed its last. Perhaps I will enter new jobs with a different outlook. Anyway, it's definitely changed for the time being, and for the better.
When it comes to jobs, I could probably be called a loner. At work, I focus on performing certain tasks expected of me in exchange for a paycheck. I do what I'm told, speak when spoken to - whether it be with a customer, visitor, or coworker - and I make a serious attempt to keep my social life and work life seperate. This is partly due to my elitist standards when it comes to prospective friends (which in turn is mostly an excuse to explain away my incredible social awkwardness) and partly due to the fact that I have yet to find a job so engaging that I would want any part of it to permeate my life outside the workplace.
My current position, however, presents an interesting bump in this philosophy - that being, my coworkers are also my neighbors. We all (well, almost all) leave work at the same time and make our way down the same half-mile to the same neighborhood, where we all reside on the same dead-end street. It's a slightly strange phenomenon, especially since I still try to maintain my policy of zero after-hours interaction. I'm not sure how everyone else handles this. Maybe they're all bestest friends, having dinner together, or popping by to borrow a cup of sugar. They probably think I'm a recluse or a snob, which I guess are both a little true. But I wouldn't know. At 5pm I come straight back to my cozy little trailer and spend the rest of the night there, watching Northern Exposure dvds and working crossword puzzles.
It's not that I dislike these people - they are all very amiable during work hours, as am I. It's mostly a case of "old habits die hard" - the fact that no one else here is close to my age and I see very little evidence that we have much in common other than our place of employment. Let me give you the rundown:
Susan
The boss-lady. She's not officially the head honcho (that's Terry, the superintendent, whose only job, as far as I can tell, is to sit alone in his office at the back of the building and never speak to anyone), but she's the one who hired me, she's the one who makes the schedules, and she's the one who gets to give project assignments to everyone. She's pretty straight-forward and kind of soft-spoke, but I have seen her joke just a little bit with coworkers once in awhile.
Rex and Peg
Volunteers. A retired married couple, they live in their own giant RV right next to my humble little Conquest. I assume they travel the country in their Winnebago and have volunteered at parks before, though I'm not positive, because I hardly talk to them. Rex is a former professional photographer and is using his talents on several AV projects for the park. He also sounds like everything he says has a hint of sarcasm behind it. Now I know what it's like to talk to myself. Peg works basically the same stint as I do at the visitor's center, just on different days/shifts.
Brian
Head of maintenance. He lives in Globe, possible for his entire life. I usually only see him every now and then in the morning, before the geriatrics start pouring in. Most of the time, he's down at the Resources Management building (with a few other people I never see) or running around doing most any handyman job - construction, plumbing, trail maintenance, carpentry, trash pick-up, etc, etc. In his days off, he apparently enjoys hunting and drinking Coors Light.
Patrick
Law enforcement ranger. He doesn't really work at the visitor's center per se - his office is tucked in the darkest corner of the basement - he more wanders in and out at his leisure. He's probably in his mid-late 30s, married (his wife works for the US Forest Service), two kids, and he really loves dogs. I mean really. He lives across the street from me. So far he is the only one in the neighborhood who has extended an invitation to his house if I need assistance with anything, or if I want to use the oven, or if I want to just pet his dogs. I have yet to take him up on the offer...
Janet
Park guide. One of the three main people I work with every day (i.e. - the "Interpretive Staff"). I don't know that much about her, but she has a kind of halting, Jeff Goldblum-ish manner of speaking and tends to laugh at her own jokes. She is generally likeable. I've also noticed that she randomly sniffs a lot.
Eddie
Park ranger/guide. So far Eddie is my favorite person to work with. Unfortunately (for me) he lives outside the park. He's been working at the park for nearly 30 years and can remember when the road through Tonto Basin was still gravel. He's a pretty avid outdoorsman, knows basically everything there is to know about the area - history, geology, plants, and animals - and can talk about it for hours. I got to spend a lot of time observing him during my first week. He would walk and talk for three hours, explaining to tourists every detail of ancient Indian life. When he was finished, he would lean over to me and say, "That was so much bullshit. I've got to train you to stop me when we get close to two hours." Yet, despite his laid-back demeanor, he'll tell you he hates people. And by "people" I think he really means "tourists." Eddie has been here so long, he's seen all the campgrounds built up around the lake and the RVs start pouring in. I've heard him lament how there's no place that people will leave untouched anymore (even though this is still pretty much a wilderness to me). I told him he should move to the arctic, to which he replied, "You know, it's just about come to that." I think he still keeps the job, because even if he hates the tourists, at least he can get paid to talk about something he's truly interested in. But as far as I go, Eddie's pretty friendly, and he keeps an eye out to make sure I'm not going crazy in my little trailer.
Jan
Park guide. Let me start by saying, Jan is nice. She is amiable enough, and she has never done anything to specifically make me not like her. That being said, on my second morning of work, Brian gave me this caveat, "I would stay clear of her. She's always worried about things she doesn't need to be." To which he later added, "Well, you'll see." And I have seen. Jan is somewhat of an anomaly of a person to me. She can, in the same breath, shout with excitement for a new project and then mourn about how she will have more work to do. Which she seems to bring on herself. I was lucky enough to accompany her on a full moon tour to the upper cliff dwelling, a treat the park has every couple of months or so. I expected it to be the same as any other hike, except in the dark, but Jan was in a constant state of stress about it for a week. I discovered that this was because she had planned a kind of elaborate play-act, where the tourists would pretend to be Indians - farmers, hunters, gatherers - and everyone would get to wear color-coded bandanas and carry props. Plus the whole thing was going to be filmed by Rex and Peg as a project for Jan to submit for a certification. PLUS, on the night of the hike, it was cold and raining and cloudy. We actually got hailed on at one point (the clouds did part eventually, though, giving a great view of the moon). And the hike I went on was just a practice run. She had to do it all again the next night. The moral of the story being, she completely freaked out and complained about it for a week, but it was all her own doing in the first place.
The part of this that is the most frustrating, though, is the fact that Jan seems to have no inner monologue. She can drive herself crazy if she wants to, but I don't need to listen to it the whole time. Jan will sit at her computer, and basically narrate everything she is thinking. Sometimes I think it's because she wants someone to pay attention to her, but then I will realize that at some point she went from talking to herself to talking directly to me (or to someone else in the room). No mention of a name, or anything specifically to catch my attention. I guess maybe she assumed that I was already listening to everything she was mumbling to herself (which is usually true only half the time). I can never tell if she's actually talking to me, if she's hoping I will talk to her, or if she just can't keep her thoughts silent. Also, she does occasionally seem to jump into situations that don't actually involve her. Like the time she was convinced she could communicate with some French Canadian visitors better than Susan or I. Or the time when she ran after a couple because she was convinced that their dogs were too fat to make it up the trail (they made it just fine). Basically, I just try to ignore her most of the time, unless she's obviously looking in my direction. It's seemed to work well so far.
So that's the weekly lineup here at the monument. We might not be one big happy family, or even close neighbors, but at least we get the job done.
Things continue to settle in nicely in Part 2 of this weekly western serial. My DVD player is finally hooked up, and Eddie (one of my coworkers) has been so kind as to loan me several VHS from his own personal collection. Our tastes tend to diverge quite a bit, but he's 60 and he's nice, and I can't really turn down free movies, so I'm much obliged.
As far as work goes, I've started an almost-daily shift standing at the Lower Cliffs, which I thoroughly enjoy. Visitors are always saying things like, "It must get pretty boring up here," or "Do you HAVE to stand here ALL day?" to which I usually reply, "It's a lot better than sitting in an office all day." And it is. When I first started, I wasn't so excited about the piles of archaeological research dumped on me. It's just not my bag. Plants and animals - sweet! Ancient Indians - meh. But now that I've got a cache of info filed in my brain and a little experience under my belt, I'm starting to remember why I was so excited about this job in the first place. I do love random facts, and I love sharing them with people even more, probably just because it's fun to show off that I know stuff. But I do love it when someone asks me a question and I can answer it for them - tell them something they didn't know. I like it when other people are eager to learn and I can help them out a little bit, and if it happens that I can't, well then that's just another reason for me to go look up a new random tidbit for myself. This is why I think I would enjoy some kind of educational career. Probably not in a conventional classroom setting, but there's got to be something out there, right? I've got time to look at my options, anyway.
While the job itself is going swimmingly, I've recently realized how surreal it is to actually be here. Working a full-time job brings with it routine - I get up at the same time every morning, travel the same road to and from work, stand in the same places all day, answer the same questions, and stare out at the same picturesque desert landscape.
Wait, what was the last one?
Living and working every day in the middle of all this idyllic southwestern scenery makes it easy to take it all for granted. The sun bouncing off the distant red cliffs, sparkling on the lake, casting shadows in the canyons. The ubiquitous and iconic silhouette of the saguaro everywhere you turn. The giant, starry sky over your head every night, totally unpolluted by any city lights. I mean, I talk to people every day who travel here from all over the country - sometimes the world - just to see places like this. And I live here.I live on the set of a western movie. Like I said, it can be surreal.
I think what makes it the strangest, though, and possibly what makes it so easy to take it for granted, is not only to I currently live here, but I am going to be living here in the future.Every other place I've ever traveled to, I had a time-line - I knew when I was going to be leaving. So I knew exactly how long I had to take everything in before it would all be over.But after my current job is over, at the end of this three months, I'm still going to be in Arizona. I'm still going to be surrounded by deserts and mountains and cactus and canyons. Granted, I won't be living right in the middle of it - I'll be in an apartment, in a city, much like other cities - but all of that landscape will only be a short drive away. I'll have infinite opportunity to visit. It won't be whisked away again at the end of three months. And that's what's really surreal.
It's also what's totally amazing and exciting, because at the end of this three months, not only will I still be in Arizona, but I will be with Shawn. I might not be living in the middle of a John Ford movie, but I will be with Shawn, and that is more important to me than any postcard scenery. Together we'll be able to share the excitement of moving to a new locale, the adventure of exploring new places, and the awesomeness of just being with each other. When Shawn finally arrives, the reality of Arizona will finally hit me, because it will be a reality with him. That's what I've really been looking forward to, whether I happened to be in the desert, the jungle, or the arctic. And I can't even describe my excitement, because that reality is only a month away. In mid-March, Shawn has to attend the wedding of some good friends in Indiana, and after that, he's making a beeline for Phoenix. Woohoo! Let the countdown begin!
So in the meantime.....life at Tonto National Monument is pretty good. The job is swell, I get to visit town at least once a week, and every now and then I remember what a wondrous place I'm living in. I've already seen a roadrunner AND a coyote (unfortunately, not at the same time)! Maybe next week I'll be able to fill you in on some madcap desert adventure. Or at least on some of my coworkers.
Well, folks. Here I am. Arizona - it does exist! This post may be brief and incoherent, since I've been sitting at the library for three hours already, my stomach is growling, and I'm not sure how much longer I can stand it.
On Feb. 2 I arrived at the wonderful Tonto National Monument, around 5pm MST (that's Mountain Standard Time), and was quickly ushered into my humble, 26ft-long abode. I started work bright and early the next morning and proceeded to field a bombardment of information. In the past week, I have learned more about Native Americans, the desert, and the National Park Service than I ever knew possible. But I have to say that Arizona is definitely beautiful. And vast. I've never seen so many cacti in my life! I mean, I know I'm in the desert, but it still seems kind of unreal. Let me break things down for you:
Where
The park is located in an area called Tonto Basin. And "basin" really is the best description - it's a huge open area (I don't even know how many square miles, but a lot) surrounded by mountains, and almost all of it is part of Tonto National Forest. In the middle is Roosevelt Lake, created by the Roosevelt Dam and fed by the Salt River and Tonto Creek. The closest vestige of civilization is the "town" of Roosevelt, which basically consists of a gas station/restaurant, a mobile home park, an RV park, and a post office. The town was created when the dam was being built, and I think most of it is under the lake now. About 20 miles north of the park are the joint community of Tonto Basin/Punkin Center. It's slightly more developed, with a couple of neighborhoods, a school, and even a couple of bars! Big city! This is also where my closest internet access is, at the public library, which is also where I will keep myself steadily supplied with VHS (and maybe even DVDs) since I also have no cable. Another 30 miles past Punkin Center is Payson - an actual town in the modern sense. They have all the fast food amenities, banks, shops, and the crowning jewel - a super Walmart. However, this is 50 miles away from the park, so I probably will only make it there every couple of weeks, or if I'm in dire need of Pizza Hut. Probably more often I will make my way about 30 miles south to the town of Globe. Globe has about everything you would need (except a Walmart), plus a certain run-down turn of the century charm, since it began as a old mining town. I live inside the park gates (a gated community!) in a Conquest camper trailer in a little neighborhood comprised of several other park employees. It's plenty of room for one person and I'm settling in nicely, especially now that I've got some filmic entertainment.
What
My official job title is "Visitor Services Intern." Basically, I'm a tour guide. Or I will be once learn enough about the park and gain some more experience. The main attractions of the park are two Native American cliff dwelling ruins, dated sometime in the 1300s, which are titled the "Upper" and "Lower" for reasons I hope are obvious. Visitors can walk unguided up to the Lower Cliffs and explore or they can reserve a spot on a ranger-guided hike to the Upper Cliffs. My job is to learn everything I can about the dwellings, the people that lived there, how they lived, and the natural history of the surrounding area, so I can then relate all this information to visitors. About half of my time, I'll be manning the visitor center desk - taking entrance fees, answering random questions, answering phones, directing people around - and the other half I'll be stationed up at the Lower Cliffs, to further answer questions (most frequently "How many times a day do you have to walk up here?") and provide information. In my first week of work, I was mostly becoming acquainted with all of this and general park procedures. I read (and am still reading) lots of books, observed other park guides, and did a lot of B.S.ing. Eventually, after maybe 6-8 weeks, I will also be conducting my own guided hike to the Upper Cliffs. This will probably be the most interesting, and undoubtedly the most B.S.ing.
When
I work 8-5 (the park's hours), five days a week, until sometime at the end of April.
Why
Why not? It's pretty easy, I'm learning a lot of random stuff, I get to be outdoors half the time, and the uniform is a lot better than Au Bon Pain.
When I first got here, I started to feel a little isolated, since, well, the park is in the middle of nowhere. I really had nothing to do an nowhere to go after work, and I didn't even have any videos to enjoy in my lovely trailer. Plus I had to work six days in a row. But now that I've had a couple days off to explore and become reaquainted with what civilization there is, I'm feeling a little more at home. I rented some movies, I stocked up on groceries, and I took a break from trying to pack my brain with archaeology.
Week 1 down. Only 11 more to go.
In typical rambling fashion, this post wasn't quite as short as I thought it to be, but also not especially eloquent. Shoot me any questions if you have them. I'll need plenty of practice answering them.
Who knows what Week 2 will have in store?! I'm hoping to ride a mountain lion before the end. Keep your fingers crossed.
Greetings from the Quality Inn of Fort Stockton, Texas!
It's been a week since I left ol' Virginny. Yet only today, on the dawn of a new month, did my journey truly begin. Last weekend I crammed my car to the brim with most of my earthly possessions and early Monday morning, I hit the road. But the first leg of this trip was quite a familiar one. A 12-hour hop, skip, and jump down the beaten path to Louisiana, my home away from home. There I spent another wondiferous week with Shawn. Once again I was reminded of how lucky I am to have him in my life, how I can hardly wait to be with him every day, and how hard it is to tear myself away from him.
This morning, it all had to come to a close one more time, as I bid a very teary goodbye to Shawn, Baton Rouge, and everything east of the Mississippi River. The real journey has begun. I have never driven this far west before, so everything today has been brand spanking new. Although, that's not to say it was incredibly exciting. But it was definitely flat. Flat and brown. Except for the few marvels of modern man that are Houston and San Antonio, where I encountered over- and underpasses grander than I could have ever imagined.
West of San Antonio, things livened up for a little while. Elevation! Trees! Vistas! I've seen places like this in the movies! From a hill-top rest area, I watched the sun set behind the magical new landscape, and then.....monotony. A beautiful view is only beautiful when you can see it. And the towns in West Texas are few and far between. I drove on for about three more hours in close to total darkness - no light pollution, only an occasional blinding headlight. In some places, the radio would seek for 10-15 minutes before finding even one radio station. The 'EMPTY' light glared on the dashboard, but I dared not stop, until finally I coasted into this last outpost of civilization between here and El Paso.
Tomorrow I will arise to complete this near cross-country trek. I anticipate the scenery to be a little more interesting, for at least part of the way - mountains, desert, and I'll actually be able to see Mexico! Then I will settle into my new trailer trash home for the next three months and the adventure begins.
I'm not exactly sure when I will be able to access the intrawebs again, but rest assured I will at some future point. However, if anyone should wish to contact me in a more direct fashion, my cellular phone should still be in service. Additionally, I can heretofore be reached at the following address:
HC02 Box 4602 Roosevelt, AZ 85545
I hope you will pardon the abruptness and lack of witicism in the post, but I have been driving all day and must do so again in a few hours. I hope you all are fabulous, wherever you are, and you should do well to keep me updated on your own goings on.
Off I go, into the Great Blue Yonder, with Whitesnake as my guide!
Just a little over a week now until I'm finally off in that vast arid wilderness known as 'Arizona.' It's going to be quite a change from the rolling, fertile mountains of the Blue Ridge, where the closest thing to a desert is the shore at Virginia Beach. Even before I set out, I can honestly say I've never been any place like it before. Australia is the driest continent on Earth, and there I still huddled mostly near the temperate southern coast and the comforts of civilization. With this newest venture of mine, I will be working at Tonto National Monument (named after the Lone Ranger's faithful life mate, one can only assume), about a two hour drive east of Phoenix, on the northern edge of the Sonoran Desert. The park will be providing me with housing, and since all the regular volunteer accommodations will be occupied, I will have the privilege of inhabiting what has been described to me as a "26 ft. travel trailer." I believe that means something along the line of this:
While a lack of television and only occasional internet will simply be RE-adjustments for me, my immediate surrounds will be quite a far leap from the Appalachia I've come to know and love and sometimes hate, but usually love.Consider the following (mostly stolen from Wikipedia)...
Arizona's average annual precipitation is 12.7" compared to Virginia's 42.7". If you can't do the math, that's difference of 2.5 feet. And that whole foot of rain in Arizona comes from two specific rainy seasons - that's right monsoons. I will be living in a place that has monsoons.
According to weather.com, today's high in Christiansburg is 38, with a low of 21. In Phoenix, the high is 78 and the low is 53. Even at it's coldest, Phoenix is still warmer than C'burg.
The highest point in Virginia is Mount Rogers at 5,729 ft. The highest point in Arizona is Humphreys Peak at 12,633 ft. Again, if simple math escapes you, that's over twice a high.
Languages spoken in Virginia include 94.6% English and 5.9% Spanish. In Arizona - 74.1% English, 19.5% Spanish, and 1.9% Navajo. NAVAJO?! What...is that some wacky made-up language like Esperanto?
Virginia was one of the original 13 colonies and became a state in 1788. Back then Arizona was still part of Mexico and it didn't even become a state until 1912 (on Valentine's Day, no less) - the last of the lower 48. (A somewhat comforting side note: While still only a territory, Arizona did secede from the Union in 1861 and was recognized as part of the Confederacy by Jefferson Davis in 1862. Good to know I can still fly the Stars and Bars!)
Arizona has a professional (NFC champion) football team, baseball team, basketball team, hockey team, and even lacrosse team. Virginia can only wish that it were D.C. or Baltimore.
Arizona's state neckwear is the bolo tie. Virginia doesn't even have one.
Arizona, and the entire Southwest, will truly be a whole new world. I think part of me is still denying the fact that this is not merely a quick vacation. I will undoubtedly miss the rose-tinted memories of my hillbilly home, but I know that once I hit these uncharted lands my inner explorer will arise and every day will be wondrous and new. First I've just got to get this nasty thing called "packing" out of the way...
So long VA! It was great while it lasted. But your bluegrass and your delicious ham can only distract me from the call of the wild for so long.
Recently, I've been getting a lot of comments along the lines of, "You sure are having a lot of adventures," and "I could never do anything like that." Generally these remarks come from coworkers or friends of my parents, usually in passing, and my answers are usually limited to "Yup," and "Maybe." Yet a much more detailed response is always brewing in my tumultuous mind. I present it to you now, anonymous Internet spirit, because I know you shall haunt me eternally if you are not appeased.
When confronted with these unsolicited assertions, part of me is inclined to agree, however humbly. It's nice to think of oneself as a Romantic hero(ine), roaming the earth, seeking new quests with each step. Compared to the "average" American, my most recent life choices are quite adventurous. Consider the population as a whole - what percentage of people actually set out to hike the Appalachian Trail? I'd say a pretty damn small one; an even smaller one if you only count those who reach Maine. How many people sign up to live in a camper in the Arizona desert? Not a whole lot. I've taken a few steps off the well-beaten path of college >> grad school (optional) >> career. That's not to say that one day I won't settle into the creature comforts of Middle America, but I'm not taking the straightest route from Point A to Point B. I'll take the road where surprise and danger lurk around every corner!
However, another part of me instinctively disagrees with such hasty, declarative statements. While picturing myself as an adventure-seeker can be quite a self-esteem boost, this was not my major motivation in pursuing these travels. I didn't decide to hike the AT because of some life-long ambition or a great disillusionment with modern society. I hiked it simply because I needed something to do after graduation. As mentioned before, some people might pursue another degree, some people might enter the workforce, some people might even sit around and wait to marry into a rich family. I was not particularly interested in any of these options. I would have found something to do, no matter what, but it just so happened that my totally awesome friend, Becka, was way ahead of me on the trail thing, leading to a thought process similar to the following:
"Hey, when Becka hiked the AT that seemed pretty fun. Plus, I could make a trip like that last for quite awhile without a huge amount of money. Sounds like as good a plan as any!"
The air of excitement and peril that came along with such a decision was just an added benefit. I, like most of my peers at the time, was just trying to find something to do with my immediate future.
Likewise, as I begin this new internship in just a couple of weeks, I'm also seeking a path for my future, and not a very unusual path - I want to move out of my parents' house, I want to find a career I can be content with, and I want to be a self-sufficient adult. If there's an adventure at all, it's the adventure of life, as cliche as that is. And this time I'm not even setting out by myself; Shawn will be with me through it all, just like he has been since our adventurous paths crossed.
As to the truth of whether the commenter could undertake a journey such as mine, I'm not sure it's so much a matter of "can" or "can't" as it is a matter of "want to." Every year, you can find people from all walks of life hiking the AT. Anyone can do it if they really want to. Sometimes I think, "I could never work in a cubicle, or in a lab, or in retail," etc. But the truth is, I really don't want to. Some people might have greater opportunities than others to travel, or change careers, or whatever, but I think it's true that you can really do whatever you earnestly set your mind to, no matter what. It seems to be widely accepted that youth is the time to get out and experience the world, before you're riddled with responsibilities. I don't see why that should be the case. Yes, you may have a little more red-tape to get through later in life, but that shouldn't stop you from trying new things and seeing new places, if you truly want to. More often than not, when someone tells me "I couldn't do that," I think what they really mean is "I wouldn't do that," or "I'm afraid to do that," - perhaps afraid of how others might see them, or simply afraid of uncertainty.
I don't quite agree with all the recent over-hyped critical infatuation with The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I thought it was a well-made film with a pretty "alright" story, that certainly worked on tugging at people's heart-strings. However, one of Ben's parting thoughts in the film did strike accord with me. He writes to his daughter:
For what it's worth, it's never too late, or in my case too early - to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit; stop whenever you want. You can change, or stay the same - there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.
It's fairlycheesy and cliche, but I think there's truth to it. I think people sometimes believe there's a set path to life; you gotta do what you gotta do to get by. Suddenly, if your life wanders off the path, you're on some wacky adventure! But who's to say life can't be adventurous?If you want it to veer in a different direction, then go for it! Who's stopping you?
So I guess my point in all of this digression is that my response to those casual assertions is both "yes" and "no." I am a seeker of the adventure of life. And you can be, too.
You may recall, when last we met I had just been thrust back into the modern world of Man - ripped from the filthy and unforgiving (yet overly-romanticized) bosom of nature, like so many other feral children and dirty, dirty hippies, who found their vagrant, escapist sojourns coming to a close.
If you do not recall this, then for shame! I take the time and effort to diligently recount every irrelevant detail of my life, demanding your unwavering devotion, and this is how I am repaid? Not even an absent-minded glance out of sheer guilt? I have no choice but to employ the height of my passive-aggressivity and casually hint that you might like to take a little time now to review. Don't worry, I'll wait...
There, was that so hard? Shall we proceed?
As sudden and drastic as this transition was, it didn't take long for me to become reacquainted, chummy even, with magnificent time-wasting technology and its warm, glowing, warming glow. Film, television (in various definitions), hydrated food, near daily showers, the INTERNET, and of course Snuggies. I resumed my unfulfilling, yet undemanding job as a coffee jockey and thusly my transformation from itinerant slacker to "productive" citizen was complete.
However, through all of this I remained confident in my one major advantage over a latte-making robot - love ( the robot's major advantages being it's ability to understand hip coffee jargon and its laser vision). You may also recall from your recent refresher on me, not only did I return from Maine with a lack of funds and a moose skull*, but also with something previously absent from the greater part of my existence - that is, a boyfriend. And an amazing one at that. So amazing that, despite my presently disenchanting status, I had (and have) an overwhelming excitement for the future and everything it may hold for us.
Separated by a mere six states (due to post-Trail financial woes) we wasted no time in furiously scheming our way back together, reunited at last, lesser beings will tremble at our might! Plans were concocted, abandoned, reanimated, bludgeoned to death, and then tentatively left to the wheel of time, careening toward the ditch of serendipity. Then one day, our vehicle of hope crashed into the tree of dreams and exploded into a fireball of salvation.
Not long after I had reached my final breaking point for bagels and steamed milk, I found out that I had been selected for an internship with the National Park Service, through the Student Conservation Association (SCA). Oh, fraptious day! No more aprons and tiny hats (except when especially funny or sexy)! And what's more, the job is located in Arizona, only two hours from the quaint desert settlement of Phoenix.
Which brings us all back around to the here and now (assuming that you are not reading this after traveling through time). In only a little less than two weeks, I will be packing my various bags, boxes, and steamer trunks and finally extricating myself from my parents' basement, once and for all. The actual internship is only a three month commitment, but if all goes accordingly, 1) Shawn will soon be procuring his own means of income in the fruitful southwestern land of milk and honey (read "barren wilderness"), 2) I will be joining him upon completion of my conservationing, 3) World domination. From there, the future is ours to mold to our collective iron will! So stay tuned to see what plans we have in store for your future of obsequious servitude. Brown-nosing and flattery will not spare you, but are encouraged nonetheless.
