I haven't had many traditions in my life, in general. Every year for Christmas and for Halloween, my family and I would watch Mickey's Christmas Carol and Disney's Halloween Treat, respectively. When I think back to try and find traditions that we followed, those are the only two that come to mind.
Then we grew up. We moved out of our parents' house. I think for a few years after, we would still dig through the old VHS tapes and find the ones that had been taped off of television sometime in the late '80s so we could rediscover the Disney traditions that we'd had as kids. But for the most part our two traditions faded into memory.
Once I became an adult, for some sociological reason I often attempted, usually in vain, to start traditions. I wanted something to happen each year that I could revisit with the people closest to me, and I don't really know exactly why.
While I was in Skagway, the only tradition I ever started that lasted for more than one year was going to the Denver caboose for my birthday.
The Denver caboose is probably my favorite place in the world. Whenever those questions come up on internet surveys where people try to get to know people better by asking them where they'd go if they could be anywhere right now, that's the first place that comes to mind. And the first time I went there was on my 27th birthday.
As I think about it tonight it's hard for me to even start writing about it. I was thinking about how I'm turning 30 this year, and how for some reason society has told me that I should do something amazing for my 30th birthday. I thought I should go on a great trip, and after 2 or 3 places fluttered through my consciousness the one that made me have to stop what I was doing was Denver.
It's hard for me to write about because I'm caught in this middle place now, somewhere between having and not having a home, wanting and not wanting to be in Alaska instead of Wisconsin.
I keep starting to type sentences describing the scenery around the caboose - the trail there, the trail back to the glacier, the sound of the river, the omnipresent evidence of moose, the peace, the contentment.... But when i start to construct the sentences I can't keep going.
I talk about Alaska every single day. It's hard not to compare and contrast the new place i live in with the one I used to. I think about all the things I miss, and all the things I don't. But I'm generally glad that I don't live there anymore. I know that I made the right choice in leaving. In May of 2012 I had started planning to leave; by September I was certain I had to; it wasn't until April of 2013 that I finally did. I needed to. My relationship with Alaska itself is so much like a metaphor for my relationships with the men I loved there. It lasted much longer than it should have, it kicked my ass, I learned a lot from it, and no one was surprised when it was over.
I wanted to plan trips back. I tell my boyfriend about it all the time, and have a longing to return with him, to show him what I loved so much about it. But every time I start planning, I stop. I have this sense that I'm not emotionally "ready" to return to the place where I endured so much tragedy.
But for some reason tonight while I'm thinking about where I would like to spend the turn of the next decade of my life, it's all I can think about.
Which part was the lie? The part where I convinced myself that Alaska was home, or the part where I convinced myself that it wasn't?
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
it takes a village
Duppy was dispatching the night it happened. It could have been any of us, but it was him. I can't imagine how difficult as a dispatcher in a small town it must have been, getting calls about someone you know and love committing suicide, and I'm glad it wasn't me. A few months later when I had to dispatch an ambulance for one of my best friends, I can imagine that my feelings may have been similar to what went on in his mind.
We took a course later that fall on public safety telecommunications. One of the chapters was on handling suicidal callers. What amazes me about talking with Duppy that night was that he hadn't taken the course yet. His calm, comforting voice on the phone and his directness in dealing with the situation weren't the result of a national training course; they were just the result of being a good human being. Although I was losing my mind on my end of the phone, hysterical, crying and likely screaming... in spite of the fact that he must have been in as much shock as I was, he didn't show it. That's what makes a good dispatcher in a town like Skagway, and I'm glad it was him.
When we found the body it was Ray who showed up first. For the second time in my tenure as a Skagway resident, tragedy had struck and Ray was responding. This time, he was my boss and part of our conversation had to include me telling him nonchalantly "I'm not coming into work tomorrow" and him telling me that was OK. Of all the things people told me in the first 24 hours, the one that I keep coming back to is something that he said to me when he showed up on the scene. He had pulled me aside to ask me something, I can't remember what. He looked me in the eye and said firmly "You know that nothing you could have done would have changed anything. It may have put it off a day, or a week, but if this was what he was going to do he was always going to do it." At first, I just took it as the cliche "it wasn't your fault" nonsense which I already knew. But as time went on and I continued reliving the hours before Stimee's death, Ray's words kept coming back to me, and I really saw what they meant.
Jim had been hiking when we were looking for clues of where Stimee had been, hoping that we would find him camping out or sleeping in the woods. I told him what was going on, and we went our separate ways around the loop. He was the first one I texted when we found Stimee. He must have called Katie, because the next thing I knew she was there, like she always has been, providing unconditional love and support.
It was Katie who sat with me while we waited and literally held my hand. When I said "you don't have to sit here and wait with me" she automatically shook her head and looked at me like I was crazy and said "No, i'll stay and wait with you." In the first few moments of shock, Katie's presence beside me which seemed to say "i'm here for you no matter what happens" meant more to me than anything else anyone did in comforting me after the fact. I can't imagine how empty and lonely I'd have felt in the first few moments of sitting at the crime scene if Katie hadn't been there with me.
After I filled out my statement at the police station, I went out to lunch with Jim and Katie. I ordered a salad and ate very little of it. When we got there, Shakey was our server and as she smiled at us it occurred to me that this big thing had just happened and very few people knew about it. Right at that moment, everyone around us was completely oblivious. I knew that it wouldn't be long before gossip started flying, so I enjoyed those few brief moments. As it turned out, someone must have already told Shakey. Katie and Jim told me later that our bill that day had been on the house.
I don't remember a whole lot about that lunch apart from how every taste of my salad made my stomach lurch. I also remember the immediate comfort I felt when "Bohemian Rhapsody" started playing, followed by an instant dread at the oncoming lyrics which seemed to describe Stimee's suicide all too well. Feeling again like I was going to be sick, I looked to Jim and Katie. They both automatically picked up the vibe and knew what was going through my mind. "I think we should go smoke," Jim said. And for the first and only time in my life, a Queen song coming on the radio made me exit the building. And Jim and Katie were right beside me.
The Canadians - Adam, Crystal, and Matt - came to town as soon as they could that evening. They stayed with me for a couple nights. My incredible roommate, Erica, had been out of town. I had called her and texted a couple times telling her to call me as soon as she could so I could ask if she was all right with the house being invaded by Canadians. She called while we were at the Eagles. "What's going on?" I told her. She was as shocked as everyone else. When I asked her if Stimee's friends could stay over, she automatically said "of course" as if there never should have been any question. She was incredibly supportive throughout the whole ordeal, and I can't imagine that I was the easiest person to live with during the following months.
The Canadians and I, before going to the Eagles, went to the Red Onion. It was shortly after going to Stimee's house to remove his guns so that if anyone should break in they wouldn't have access to them. We were all distraught, shocked, emotional, drained. When we walked into the RO our appearance must have shown that, because one obnoxious woman started hollering at us to smile. "You guys look like..." she bellowed, and then stopped. I'm really glad she stopped there.
Our server was Stacy. She either knew what was going on and how we related to it, or else just caught the feeling coming from us. Either way, she understood that we were having a rough night and treated us exceptionally well. She didn't really joke around with us or try to make us feel better. She just accepted that we were having a shitty day and treated us accordingly. I talked to Adam months later on a drive to the hot springs and he said that he'd been thinking about Stacy and how her energy had just been perfect for the night we were having.
At the Eagles, we ran into some friends. I remember Amanda was there and Canada Dave and Stephanie. Their familiar sympathetic faces were appreciated. We were all shocked and grieving together. I don't remember who else we saw that night but those three stick in my mind. I was relieved to see them and I got a feeling they were relieved to see us as well.
Michaella was our bartender. She knew what was going on by that point, and was really sensitive as well to what we were dealing with. At the end of the night, when we were getting ready to pay and I was trying to tell the Canadians that their money wasn't any good there, Michaella interrupted to tell us not to worry about it. She bought our tab.
In the days, weeks, and months following, many more people of Skagway came out from the woodwork and supported me and each other. Jan Tronrud dropped food off at the house. The Days of '98 girls (Alishia, Kaitlyn, and Afton) made me focaccia and cake. The other dispatchers rearranged their schedules so that I could have a week off for bereavement. Andrew took charge of the funeral arrangements so the rest of us wouldn't have to.
Margaret put up with me screaming at her on at least one occasion. Holley, as always, my first friend in Skagway, gave me the ability to vent my emotions to someone who I trusted. Tekla, even if she had to be up in the morning, rarely said "no" to me wanting to hang out at midnight when I got off work. Nicole was home sick from work one day and in spite of being sick went for a drive with me to Dyea to help me clear my head. Mike and Kellie - well, it's hard to even know where to start there. Mike was one of, like, five people who came out at midnight for my birthday ten days after the fact. Kellie masterminded a plan to shout "happy birthday" from the train to the caboose where i camped out a few days later.
Since leaving Skagway, there have been a lot of negative things about it that I've been fixated on. And there are a lot of negative things about it that make me glad to be gone. But on this day, as I'm remembering what happened a year ago, I'm focused instead on the ways that Skagway is unlike anywhere else. In the wake of the biggest shock a lot of us had experienced, we banded together and supported each other. I've never had friends like the ones I had in Skagway. I'm sure I never will again.
I've only mentioned a handful of the people that made the most difference to me in the immediate hours and days following Stimee's death, but there were so many more it's impossible to mention them all. Every single person I came into contact with in those first few days showed me nothing but support, sometimes going above and beyond what I could expect. Even people who don't like me and who I don't like put all of that aside for the sake of something greater.
It could have, and would have been a lot worse to experience what we all did if we didn't have each other.
We took a course later that fall on public safety telecommunications. One of the chapters was on handling suicidal callers. What amazes me about talking with Duppy that night was that he hadn't taken the course yet. His calm, comforting voice on the phone and his directness in dealing with the situation weren't the result of a national training course; they were just the result of being a good human being. Although I was losing my mind on my end of the phone, hysterical, crying and likely screaming... in spite of the fact that he must have been in as much shock as I was, he didn't show it. That's what makes a good dispatcher in a town like Skagway, and I'm glad it was him.
When we found the body it was Ray who showed up first. For the second time in my tenure as a Skagway resident, tragedy had struck and Ray was responding. This time, he was my boss and part of our conversation had to include me telling him nonchalantly "I'm not coming into work tomorrow" and him telling me that was OK. Of all the things people told me in the first 24 hours, the one that I keep coming back to is something that he said to me when he showed up on the scene. He had pulled me aside to ask me something, I can't remember what. He looked me in the eye and said firmly "You know that nothing you could have done would have changed anything. It may have put it off a day, or a week, but if this was what he was going to do he was always going to do it." At first, I just took it as the cliche "it wasn't your fault" nonsense which I already knew. But as time went on and I continued reliving the hours before Stimee's death, Ray's words kept coming back to me, and I really saw what they meant.
Jim had been hiking when we were looking for clues of where Stimee had been, hoping that we would find him camping out or sleeping in the woods. I told him what was going on, and we went our separate ways around the loop. He was the first one I texted when we found Stimee. He must have called Katie, because the next thing I knew she was there, like she always has been, providing unconditional love and support.
It was Katie who sat with me while we waited and literally held my hand. When I said "you don't have to sit here and wait with me" she automatically shook her head and looked at me like I was crazy and said "No, i'll stay and wait with you." In the first few moments of shock, Katie's presence beside me which seemed to say "i'm here for you no matter what happens" meant more to me than anything else anyone did in comforting me after the fact. I can't imagine how empty and lonely I'd have felt in the first few moments of sitting at the crime scene if Katie hadn't been there with me.
After I filled out my statement at the police station, I went out to lunch with Jim and Katie. I ordered a salad and ate very little of it. When we got there, Shakey was our server and as she smiled at us it occurred to me that this big thing had just happened and very few people knew about it. Right at that moment, everyone around us was completely oblivious. I knew that it wouldn't be long before gossip started flying, so I enjoyed those few brief moments. As it turned out, someone must have already told Shakey. Katie and Jim told me later that our bill that day had been on the house.
I don't remember a whole lot about that lunch apart from how every taste of my salad made my stomach lurch. I also remember the immediate comfort I felt when "Bohemian Rhapsody" started playing, followed by an instant dread at the oncoming lyrics which seemed to describe Stimee's suicide all too well. Feeling again like I was going to be sick, I looked to Jim and Katie. They both automatically picked up the vibe and knew what was going through my mind. "I think we should go smoke," Jim said. And for the first and only time in my life, a Queen song coming on the radio made me exit the building. And Jim and Katie were right beside me.
The Canadians - Adam, Crystal, and Matt - came to town as soon as they could that evening. They stayed with me for a couple nights. My incredible roommate, Erica, had been out of town. I had called her and texted a couple times telling her to call me as soon as she could so I could ask if she was all right with the house being invaded by Canadians. She called while we were at the Eagles. "What's going on?" I told her. She was as shocked as everyone else. When I asked her if Stimee's friends could stay over, she automatically said "of course" as if there never should have been any question. She was incredibly supportive throughout the whole ordeal, and I can't imagine that I was the easiest person to live with during the following months.
The Canadians and I, before going to the Eagles, went to the Red Onion. It was shortly after going to Stimee's house to remove his guns so that if anyone should break in they wouldn't have access to them. We were all distraught, shocked, emotional, drained. When we walked into the RO our appearance must have shown that, because one obnoxious woman started hollering at us to smile. "You guys look like..." she bellowed, and then stopped. I'm really glad she stopped there.
Our server was Stacy. She either knew what was going on and how we related to it, or else just caught the feeling coming from us. Either way, she understood that we were having a rough night and treated us exceptionally well. She didn't really joke around with us or try to make us feel better. She just accepted that we were having a shitty day and treated us accordingly. I talked to Adam months later on a drive to the hot springs and he said that he'd been thinking about Stacy and how her energy had just been perfect for the night we were having.
At the Eagles, we ran into some friends. I remember Amanda was there and Canada Dave and Stephanie. Their familiar sympathetic faces were appreciated. We were all shocked and grieving together. I don't remember who else we saw that night but those three stick in my mind. I was relieved to see them and I got a feeling they were relieved to see us as well.
Michaella was our bartender. She knew what was going on by that point, and was really sensitive as well to what we were dealing with. At the end of the night, when we were getting ready to pay and I was trying to tell the Canadians that their money wasn't any good there, Michaella interrupted to tell us not to worry about it. She bought our tab.
In the days, weeks, and months following, many more people of Skagway came out from the woodwork and supported me and each other. Jan Tronrud dropped food off at the house. The Days of '98 girls (Alishia, Kaitlyn, and Afton) made me focaccia and cake. The other dispatchers rearranged their schedules so that I could have a week off for bereavement. Andrew took charge of the funeral arrangements so the rest of us wouldn't have to.
Margaret put up with me screaming at her on at least one occasion. Holley, as always, my first friend in Skagway, gave me the ability to vent my emotions to someone who I trusted. Tekla, even if she had to be up in the morning, rarely said "no" to me wanting to hang out at midnight when I got off work. Nicole was home sick from work one day and in spite of being sick went for a drive with me to Dyea to help me clear my head. Mike and Kellie - well, it's hard to even know where to start there. Mike was one of, like, five people who came out at midnight for my birthday ten days after the fact. Kellie masterminded a plan to shout "happy birthday" from the train to the caboose where i camped out a few days later.
Since leaving Skagway, there have been a lot of negative things about it that I've been fixated on. And there are a lot of negative things about it that make me glad to be gone. But on this day, as I'm remembering what happened a year ago, I'm focused instead on the ways that Skagway is unlike anywhere else. In the wake of the biggest shock a lot of us had experienced, we banded together and supported each other. I've never had friends like the ones I had in Skagway. I'm sure I never will again.
I've only mentioned a handful of the people that made the most difference to me in the immediate hours and days following Stimee's death, but there were so many more it's impossible to mention them all. Every single person I came into contact with in those first few days showed me nothing but support, sometimes going above and beyond what I could expect. Even people who don't like me and who I don't like put all of that aside for the sake of something greater.
It could have, and would have been a lot worse to experience what we all did if we didn't have each other.
Friday, January 18, 2013
useless post.
As i'm working my way through "Desperate Housewives" on netflix I've been sometimes in that zone where i'm both frustrated and relieved by how emotional it's been able to get me. But the episode that really should have me in tears has only made me content and empowered. I think that means something...
I felt that sense of coincidence when I realized that it was in the last episode of season six that Susan expressed her range of emotions at leaving the place she'd come to call home. When I leave Alaska this spring, I'll be just shy of the six-year anniversary of getting off the ferry in Skagway for the first time. Coincidences like that normally serve to enhance the emotional response I experience. This time, it enhanced my sense of purpose and accomplishment in deciding to move on.
Since I've been in Skagway there's never been a time, until recently, that I desperately wanted to leave. There's never been a time when I haven't wanted to spend the rest of my life here. There's never been a moment, until recently, that I've felt like I could stand to be gone from Skagway for more than a few days. Every time some sort of circumstance forced me to confront the possibility that I might need to move (generally brought on by financial difficulties mid-winter) I have been overwhelmed by a flood of nostalgia and attachments to the place I've chosen to live for this chapter of my life and the people who come with it.
But suddenly that's just not the case anymore. And it really seemed to happen overnight.
I guess I just never really thought that my Alaska adventure would end. I kind of always assumed it was going to last the rest of my life.
I never thought I'd be able to get enough of it. And, truth be told, I haven't. I can never tire of seeing bears, moose, lynx, coyotes, wolves, porcupines, eagles, seals, sea lions, and whales in my backyard (literal and metaphorical backyard). I am never not struck by the majesty and wonder of the aurora, no matter how minor the light show. The mountains around me never make me feel enclosed or locked in; they fill me with awe, contentment, peace.
Ugh. To be honest, I really want to write a lot more about this. But, in a testament to how non-emotional I am about it, it's not something I really feel like I can express in words. I don't really have much to say about moving.
When I watched that episode of Desperate Housewives where Susan moves out of the neighborhood, I felt inspired to write a blog about my impending move. But, for how major of an event it is, I don't really have anything eloquent or "look at me i'm a writer"-ish to say about it. It's just one of those matter-of-fact things that seems in my mind a lot less momentous than it seems to be in everyone else's.
So it is that this blog turns out to be not just the chronicle of my fifth Alaskan winter, but the documentation of my final Alaskan winter.
It's odd to me how detached I've felt from the emotions that should go along with this. I know that what I will miss the most, allegedly, are the people I've come to love in Skagway and the small-town feel of it... but... I hate to say it... when my friends are getting emotional and reacting to my decision to move, telling me how much they'll miss me and so on... even then I don't really have a lot to contribute. I go through the motions, I say the words, I let them know that I'll miss them too -- and I'm sure i will miss them -- but I'm just so ready to be done with Skagway and all its demons that I'm not even worried about missing my friends. I'm not sure if that's part of being self-involved, or if it's part of being a robot.
A few nights ago after work I rode out to the flats with a friend because the sky was so clear we could see what must have been every single star in the galaxy. We rode out on the snowy, icy, slushy roads and stopped at a spot I'm sure I've walked or driven on hundreds of times. We sat in the dark and watched the glow and subtle curtains of the northern lights in one of those amazing places that make you feel like you're in the middle of nowhere and miles away from civilization in spite of the fact that you really aren't.
As I watched the lights and stars from our perch right out by the high tide mark, I felt like there should have been some response other than the one I felt. I should have felt "am I really sure I want to leave this?" or "This might be the last time I see this, I'm so sad." Nope. Instead, I was energized with the thought of "I'm so glad that I got a chance to experience this again."
OK, apparently i have a lot more to write on this subject but i'm floundering. End useless blog post. I'll revisit it later. I'm sure when I'm on vacation in a few days, out of town for the first extended period in almost a year, I'll have some nostalgia. Vegas and Wisconsin, here I come. It's a trial run in saying goodbye to Skagway...
I felt that sense of coincidence when I realized that it was in the last episode of season six that Susan expressed her range of emotions at leaving the place she'd come to call home. When I leave Alaska this spring, I'll be just shy of the six-year anniversary of getting off the ferry in Skagway for the first time. Coincidences like that normally serve to enhance the emotional response I experience. This time, it enhanced my sense of purpose and accomplishment in deciding to move on.
Since I've been in Skagway there's never been a time, until recently, that I desperately wanted to leave. There's never been a time when I haven't wanted to spend the rest of my life here. There's never been a moment, until recently, that I've felt like I could stand to be gone from Skagway for more than a few days. Every time some sort of circumstance forced me to confront the possibility that I might need to move (generally brought on by financial difficulties mid-winter) I have been overwhelmed by a flood of nostalgia and attachments to the place I've chosen to live for this chapter of my life and the people who come with it.
But suddenly that's just not the case anymore. And it really seemed to happen overnight.
I guess I just never really thought that my Alaska adventure would end. I kind of always assumed it was going to last the rest of my life.
I never thought I'd be able to get enough of it. And, truth be told, I haven't. I can never tire of seeing bears, moose, lynx, coyotes, wolves, porcupines, eagles, seals, sea lions, and whales in my backyard (literal and metaphorical backyard). I am never not struck by the majesty and wonder of the aurora, no matter how minor the light show. The mountains around me never make me feel enclosed or locked in; they fill me with awe, contentment, peace.
Ugh. To be honest, I really want to write a lot more about this. But, in a testament to how non-emotional I am about it, it's not something I really feel like I can express in words. I don't really have much to say about moving.
When I watched that episode of Desperate Housewives where Susan moves out of the neighborhood, I felt inspired to write a blog about my impending move. But, for how major of an event it is, I don't really have anything eloquent or "look at me i'm a writer"-ish to say about it. It's just one of those matter-of-fact things that seems in my mind a lot less momentous than it seems to be in everyone else's.
So it is that this blog turns out to be not just the chronicle of my fifth Alaskan winter, but the documentation of my final Alaskan winter.
It's odd to me how detached I've felt from the emotions that should go along with this. I know that what I will miss the most, allegedly, are the people I've come to love in Skagway and the small-town feel of it... but... I hate to say it... when my friends are getting emotional and reacting to my decision to move, telling me how much they'll miss me and so on... even then I don't really have a lot to contribute. I go through the motions, I say the words, I let them know that I'll miss them too -- and I'm sure i will miss them -- but I'm just so ready to be done with Skagway and all its demons that I'm not even worried about missing my friends. I'm not sure if that's part of being self-involved, or if it's part of being a robot.
A few nights ago after work I rode out to the flats with a friend because the sky was so clear we could see what must have been every single star in the galaxy. We rode out on the snowy, icy, slushy roads and stopped at a spot I'm sure I've walked or driven on hundreds of times. We sat in the dark and watched the glow and subtle curtains of the northern lights in one of those amazing places that make you feel like you're in the middle of nowhere and miles away from civilization in spite of the fact that you really aren't.
As I watched the lights and stars from our perch right out by the high tide mark, I felt like there should have been some response other than the one I felt. I should have felt "am I really sure I want to leave this?" or "This might be the last time I see this, I'm so sad." Nope. Instead, I was energized with the thought of "I'm so glad that I got a chance to experience this again."
OK, apparently i have a lot more to write on this subject but i'm floundering. End useless blog post. I'll revisit it later. I'm sure when I'm on vacation in a few days, out of town for the first extended period in almost a year, I'll have some nostalgia. Vegas and Wisconsin, here I come. It's a trial run in saying goodbye to Skagway...
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Yuletide in Skagway
Keeping true to the original intent of this blog, which was to tell people who don't live here what it's like to live here in wintertime, I thought I'd post some highlights of the holiday season in Skagway.
I've never lived anywhere that was so festive for Christmas - except, maybe, when I effectively "lived" in the mall for those few years I worked retail in college. but that wasn't festive in the same way. That was materialistic festivity rooted in the desire of businesses to capitalize on marketing schemes and get out of the red. Here, the joy comes from a sense of community and somewhat genuine holiday spirit accented by a lot of drinking of holiday spirits.
So, here are a few of the Yuletide festivities that I've taken part in over the years.
Santa Train
Probably one of the more unique celebrations that Skagway puts on. As you may or may not know, Skagway is a tourist town. The main tourist attraction is the White Pass train ride which goes for a few hours up into BC and the Yukon. The train used to run year-round and carry freight and passengers before the road came in; now it only runs tourists in the summertime.
Except for one day in winter when the train runs up the hill through the snow in early December. They clear the tracks ahead of time up to a certain point and then it's on... Santa is on the train and there are both children's and adult cars. The children's cars are where Santa mingles with the kids and does all that cutesy Christmas stuff (actually, I have no idea, because I've never been on the kids' cars). The adult cars are where the rest of us wait for Santa to join us for drinks. (Someone looking suspiciously like Santa is often known to be seen at the local watering hole afterward, spreading more holiday cheer.)
The first year I went, Stimee and I brought the makings for purple motherfuckers, a mixed drink I used to have all the time in Albany. We shared them with everyone and had a lot of other drinks from other people. Last year when I went I one-upped my purple motherfuckers. I had hot fireball cider, made to order. I brought the Jet Boil camp stove, cider packets, water, Fireball, spices and cups in a picnic basket and made people hot cider to keep them warm on the trip up the hill and back. Both times were pretty awesome.
Yuletide Ball
I only went once, last year. It wasn't the most thrilling thing ever. The theme last year was some kind of tropical thing, so Stimee and I got all festive. We wore red union suits underneath beachwear. It was pretty fun. There was a band and food but I think we were just there too early.
Tree Lighting
The Christmas tree that gets lit for the tree lighting is on an empty lot on 5th. It's not a spruce tree that gets cut down for this purpose; it's a tree that just grows there. I've gone to the tree lighting at least twice that I can think of. Everyone stands around in the street while a group sings Christmas songs in preparation for the tree being lit. The pivotal moment comes when the fire truck, decked out in holiday lights, comes up and off jumps Santa. He says hi to all the kids and then gives the OK to light the lights on the Christmas tree.
After the tree is lit, there's a holiday concert that happens at the Park Service auditorium on 2nd. Last year, it was my full intention to go to said concert with my girlfriend. We wandered over there but when we arrived found that the Park Service auditorium was a lot more crowded than we felt like dealing with. So, next best thing... we went to the liquor store across the street, got a couple big cans of Foster's (why Foster's? I'm not entirely sure. But it's the only time I've ever drank Foster's, to my knowledge) and sat out behind the Park Service building by the train tracks in the freezing cold, drinking, smoking cigarettes, and being very very merry.
Eagles Christmas pageant
This tradition was started by the Arctic Brotherhood around the turn of the century. It's carried on to this day by the Eagles, a fraternal order that, unlike the AB, survived.
Because the kids don't get enough Santa, the Eagles makes sure they get to see him on Christmas Eve. All the kids in town get to go up on stage, meet Santa, and get a present from him. It's pretty cute. I only went once, back when I spent a lot of time with a family who had the best 5-year-old ever. It was fun to watch.
Christmas Eve
My favorite holiday celebration in Skagway happens on Christmas Eve. This year I missed it on account of work, but my liver is probably better off for it.
On Christmas Eve, all the businesses in town open their doors to holiday revelry by providing free food and booze and camaraderie. The town crawl may start at either end of Broadway, but the venues are varied. The book store, the Mountain Shop, the hardware store, and the grocery store are the ones that stand out the most in my mind. Beers, egg nog, margaritas... cheese plates, veggies and dip, finger foods... and drunks. Everyone stumbles from one business to the next, getting progressively drunker and drunker as they go. Inevitably most of us will end up at one bar or another at the end of the night, insuring that Christmas morning includes one hell of a hangover.
This year I didn't do any of them. But when I get off work in an hour, midnight will mark the start of Christmas. In other parts of the country people spend Christmas with their dysfunctional families. Since I am 4,000 miles away from mine, I will get to ring in Christmas at midnight with my much more dysfunctional Skagway family at the Pizza Station.
Around the holidays it becomes increasingly more evident how many ways my Skagway family is not entirely unlike a real family. I guess there'a little more choice involved in who you associate with here when it comes to the in-quotation-marks "family," but when it all comes down to it we're all pretty much stuck with each other regardless, just like a real family. And there really aren't very many people I'd prefer to be stuck with at the holidays.
I've never lived anywhere that was so festive for Christmas - except, maybe, when I effectively "lived" in the mall for those few years I worked retail in college. but that wasn't festive in the same way. That was materialistic festivity rooted in the desire of businesses to capitalize on marketing schemes and get out of the red. Here, the joy comes from a sense of community and somewhat genuine holiday spirit accented by a lot of drinking of holiday spirits.
So, here are a few of the Yuletide festivities that I've taken part in over the years.
Santa Train
Probably one of the more unique celebrations that Skagway puts on. As you may or may not know, Skagway is a tourist town. The main tourist attraction is the White Pass train ride which goes for a few hours up into BC and the Yukon. The train used to run year-round and carry freight and passengers before the road came in; now it only runs tourists in the summertime.
Except for one day in winter when the train runs up the hill through the snow in early December. They clear the tracks ahead of time up to a certain point and then it's on... Santa is on the train and there are both children's and adult cars. The children's cars are where Santa mingles with the kids and does all that cutesy Christmas stuff (actually, I have no idea, because I've never been on the kids' cars). The adult cars are where the rest of us wait for Santa to join us for drinks. (Someone looking suspiciously like Santa is often known to be seen at the local watering hole afterward, spreading more holiday cheer.)
The first year I went, Stimee and I brought the makings for purple motherfuckers, a mixed drink I used to have all the time in Albany. We shared them with everyone and had a lot of other drinks from other people. Last year when I went I one-upped my purple motherfuckers. I had hot fireball cider, made to order. I brought the Jet Boil camp stove, cider packets, water, Fireball, spices and cups in a picnic basket and made people hot cider to keep them warm on the trip up the hill and back. Both times were pretty awesome.
Yuletide Ball
I only went once, last year. It wasn't the most thrilling thing ever. The theme last year was some kind of tropical thing, so Stimee and I got all festive. We wore red union suits underneath beachwear. It was pretty fun. There was a band and food but I think we were just there too early.
Tree Lighting
The Christmas tree that gets lit for the tree lighting is on an empty lot on 5th. It's not a spruce tree that gets cut down for this purpose; it's a tree that just grows there. I've gone to the tree lighting at least twice that I can think of. Everyone stands around in the street while a group sings Christmas songs in preparation for the tree being lit. The pivotal moment comes when the fire truck, decked out in holiday lights, comes up and off jumps Santa. He says hi to all the kids and then gives the OK to light the lights on the Christmas tree.
After the tree is lit, there's a holiday concert that happens at the Park Service auditorium on 2nd. Last year, it was my full intention to go to said concert with my girlfriend. We wandered over there but when we arrived found that the Park Service auditorium was a lot more crowded than we felt like dealing with. So, next best thing... we went to the liquor store across the street, got a couple big cans of Foster's (why Foster's? I'm not entirely sure. But it's the only time I've ever drank Foster's, to my knowledge) and sat out behind the Park Service building by the train tracks in the freezing cold, drinking, smoking cigarettes, and being very very merry.
Eagles Christmas pageant
This tradition was started by the Arctic Brotherhood around the turn of the century. It's carried on to this day by the Eagles, a fraternal order that, unlike the AB, survived.
Because the kids don't get enough Santa, the Eagles makes sure they get to see him on Christmas Eve. All the kids in town get to go up on stage, meet Santa, and get a present from him. It's pretty cute. I only went once, back when I spent a lot of time with a family who had the best 5-year-old ever. It was fun to watch.
Christmas Eve
My favorite holiday celebration in Skagway happens on Christmas Eve. This year I missed it on account of work, but my liver is probably better off for it.
On Christmas Eve, all the businesses in town open their doors to holiday revelry by providing free food and booze and camaraderie. The town crawl may start at either end of Broadway, but the venues are varied. The book store, the Mountain Shop, the hardware store, and the grocery store are the ones that stand out the most in my mind. Beers, egg nog, margaritas... cheese plates, veggies and dip, finger foods... and drunks. Everyone stumbles from one business to the next, getting progressively drunker and drunker as they go. Inevitably most of us will end up at one bar or another at the end of the night, insuring that Christmas morning includes one hell of a hangover.
This year I didn't do any of them. But when I get off work in an hour, midnight will mark the start of Christmas. In other parts of the country people spend Christmas with their dysfunctional families. Since I am 4,000 miles away from mine, I will get to ring in Christmas at midnight with my much more dysfunctional Skagway family at the Pizza Station.
Around the holidays it becomes increasingly more evident how many ways my Skagway family is not entirely unlike a real family. I guess there'a little more choice involved in who you associate with here when it comes to the in-quotation-marks "family," but when it all comes down to it we're all pretty much stuck with each other regardless, just like a real family. And there really aren't very many people I'd prefer to be stuck with at the holidays.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
women of influence in my life in Skagway
When faced with the question "who have been the biggest influences in your life," I realized that all of them that I could come up with have been the significant men in my life. Is it possible that the shortcomings that have led me down rabbit holes and into despair have been due to the fact that I put too much emphasis on being influenced by the men, and not enough on being influenced by women?
As I try and think about it, I have a hard time coming up with very many female role models in my life (apart from the obvious - mom, of course you are the exception). All of my heroes have always been men, starting and ending of course with my big brother. When I was a kid, the people I strove to be in games and wanted to be when I grew up were all men - Indiana Jones; the brothers Hanson (make fun of me all you want, I really don't care); Beethoven... as I grew older and started having real ambitions beyond pipe dreams and make-believe, my heroes were still men.
Dead rock stars topped the list of people who inspired me musically and fashion-wise (one need only remember the bright red leather pants or the blue suede shirt with billowing sleeves to see how I was trying to be Freddie Mercury, once I discovered him). Female rock stars never appealed to me. None of their voices, apart from Joan Jett, really had that edge that I so desperately wanted and so blatantly lack. Apart from Veruca Salt, no women played rock guitar. Female rock stars were all actually pop stars or folk singers. There's a time and a place for that, as well, but I never idolized them as much as I did their male counterparts.
Writers seem to be the same. I fell in love with the poet E. A. Robinson and his good friend Robert Frost, finding Sylvia Plath boring. The writers who have influenced me and made me want to write have all been male as far as I can remember.
And then there's the movie characters I'd relate with the most. Always men. When asked which female movie character I would most like to be, I come up staggeringly short. I cannot relate with female film characters. While I'm sure feminist film critics would argue that that's because Hollywood only creates one-dimensional females who have no depth of character, that actually isn't the case anymore. Women in movies represent a vast range of types, especially when you start to look at independent movies. But if asked what movie character I would most like to be, it would be Loki, or Jeremiah Johnson, or Russell from Almost Famous.
Of course, it's increasingly common for women to fall into this same pattern of tomboyish tendencies, especially the women that I associate with. But so many of these types turn out to be independent and strong, as influenced by the independent, strong women in pop culture and their lives that help them become the well-adjusted and good-head-on-your-shoulders types that they are. I'm starting to think that, although the man who influenced me the most, my brother, has been a positive influence, most of them haven't. I'm starting to figure things out a little bit...
When I look back at people who have come and gone in and out of my life, the ones who have had the most dramatic effects have been the men who have done me wrong. Maybe that's why I live with the mindset that I do. All the control in who I've become has been placed in the hands of people that I shouldn't have given it to in the first place. Instead of giving that influence to the women I aspire to be, I give it to the men I aspire to be with.
And that's certainly been the story of my life in Alaska, as well as Albany. Come to think of it, I remember a very depressed and indignant few years of high school after my first romance fell to pieces after a year. And maybe that's why I've always had mostly male friends - I'd rather be surrounded by men who can validate or shit all over my self-worth as opposed to women who can't generally give me the type of attention that I look for.
But (since my blog is ostensibly about my winters in Alaska, I should bring my 3 AM stream of consciousness around to that, I guess) there've been a lot of women I've come to know in Skagway that, as I start to look forward instead of backward for the first time in my life, I would really like to be more like in so many ways. I see women around me who, whether they're in relationships or not, don't define themselves entirely by the men they're involved with. I see women who have families but who haven't lost themselves or their sense of identity to those conventional units. I see women who run businesses and have successful careers, even small-town careers. More than all that, I see women who are single and not afraid to be, not just looking for the next potential Prince Charming to save them from themselves.
All of the pivotal moments in my life can be directly attributed to one man or another. Even my journey to Alaska in May of 2007 was spawned by the guitarist that made me feel so trapped in Albany that I couldn't breathe.
But I'd like to think that my outlook can still change. My Skagway adventure began with a ferry ride from Juneau. At the ferry terminal in Juneau, as I stood eagerly awaiting what epic tales may lie ahead in the story of my life, I met my first Skagway girlfriend. She's still in my life, and, now that I think about it, one of my pivotal Skagway in winter moments came when she had to be medevacced out of town a few Decembers ago and I thought I might lose her. I don't know when I've ever been so scared.
Two summers ago, two of my girlfriends and I embarked on our first Slow Girls adventure - so named for the fact that we all hike slower than most and have no qualms about that. We conquered the Chilkoot together and, through cracking knees and bruised hips, were unstoppable. Slow Girls has become an institution as we go on as many adventures as possible, with misadventures ranging from porcupines to bear poles.
A few summers ago, while I was smoking with a male friend on the deck at the Brewco, a girl came up and started complimenting my friend. I inwardly rolled my eyes, thinking "Wow, look, another girl who's into Jim." As it turns out, the woman in question was not just another girl who was into one of my friends, but my future BFF (and, just because I have to mention it again, Jim's future wife).
The women I have come to be friends with in Skagway have been there in the darkest moments and in the most elated. When I was offered my first year-round job in Skagway this summer, before I was allowed to tell anyone, I got a bottle of champagne and celebrated with one of my girlfriends, the first local I told, and the first person I celebrated with. When Stimee died, the first person who came running to my aid was one of my girlfriends, who came to sit and wait for the police with me, and then went out to lunch with me. Whenever I have needed to go out and drink for celebration's sake or to drown my sorrows, I have been able to rely on my team of female comerades to accompany me. They're the ones who will cheers with me and they're the ones who will let me vent.
Since May my life has been through a lot of twists and turns I couldn't have possibly foreseen a year ago. My consciousness and mindset have been through the ringer and are still in the process of attempting to come out on top. My mind has rolled through a million different changes, and I've pondered how to become a better, happier person. I think tonight I came to the realization that allowing myself to be solely influenced by the men in my life has been to my detriment; I am surrounded by enough women with traits I wish I had that I should give them some of the power.
As I try and think about it, I have a hard time coming up with very many female role models in my life (apart from the obvious - mom, of course you are the exception). All of my heroes have always been men, starting and ending of course with my big brother. When I was a kid, the people I strove to be in games and wanted to be when I grew up were all men - Indiana Jones; the brothers Hanson (make fun of me all you want, I really don't care); Beethoven... as I grew older and started having real ambitions beyond pipe dreams and make-believe, my heroes were still men.
Dead rock stars topped the list of people who inspired me musically and fashion-wise (one need only remember the bright red leather pants or the blue suede shirt with billowing sleeves to see how I was trying to be Freddie Mercury, once I discovered him). Female rock stars never appealed to me. None of their voices, apart from Joan Jett, really had that edge that I so desperately wanted and so blatantly lack. Apart from Veruca Salt, no women played rock guitar. Female rock stars were all actually pop stars or folk singers. There's a time and a place for that, as well, but I never idolized them as much as I did their male counterparts.
Writers seem to be the same. I fell in love with the poet E. A. Robinson and his good friend Robert Frost, finding Sylvia Plath boring. The writers who have influenced me and made me want to write have all been male as far as I can remember.
And then there's the movie characters I'd relate with the most. Always men. When asked which female movie character I would most like to be, I come up staggeringly short. I cannot relate with female film characters. While I'm sure feminist film critics would argue that that's because Hollywood only creates one-dimensional females who have no depth of character, that actually isn't the case anymore. Women in movies represent a vast range of types, especially when you start to look at independent movies. But if asked what movie character I would most like to be, it would be Loki, or Jeremiah Johnson, or Russell from Almost Famous.
Of course, it's increasingly common for women to fall into this same pattern of tomboyish tendencies, especially the women that I associate with. But so many of these types turn out to be independent and strong, as influenced by the independent, strong women in pop culture and their lives that help them become the well-adjusted and good-head-on-your-shoulders types that they are. I'm starting to think that, although the man who influenced me the most, my brother, has been a positive influence, most of them haven't. I'm starting to figure things out a little bit...
When I look back at people who have come and gone in and out of my life, the ones who have had the most dramatic effects have been the men who have done me wrong. Maybe that's why I live with the mindset that I do. All the control in who I've become has been placed in the hands of people that I shouldn't have given it to in the first place. Instead of giving that influence to the women I aspire to be, I give it to the men I aspire to be with.
And that's certainly been the story of my life in Alaska, as well as Albany. Come to think of it, I remember a very depressed and indignant few years of high school after my first romance fell to pieces after a year. And maybe that's why I've always had mostly male friends - I'd rather be surrounded by men who can validate or shit all over my self-worth as opposed to women who can't generally give me the type of attention that I look for.
But (since my blog is ostensibly about my winters in Alaska, I should bring my 3 AM stream of consciousness around to that, I guess) there've been a lot of women I've come to know in Skagway that, as I start to look forward instead of backward for the first time in my life, I would really like to be more like in so many ways. I see women around me who, whether they're in relationships or not, don't define themselves entirely by the men they're involved with. I see women who have families but who haven't lost themselves or their sense of identity to those conventional units. I see women who run businesses and have successful careers, even small-town careers. More than all that, I see women who are single and not afraid to be, not just looking for the next potential Prince Charming to save them from themselves.
All of the pivotal moments in my life can be directly attributed to one man or another. Even my journey to Alaska in May of 2007 was spawned by the guitarist that made me feel so trapped in Albany that I couldn't breathe.
But I'd like to think that my outlook can still change. My Skagway adventure began with a ferry ride from Juneau. At the ferry terminal in Juneau, as I stood eagerly awaiting what epic tales may lie ahead in the story of my life, I met my first Skagway girlfriend. She's still in my life, and, now that I think about it, one of my pivotal Skagway in winter moments came when she had to be medevacced out of town a few Decembers ago and I thought I might lose her. I don't know when I've ever been so scared.
Two summers ago, two of my girlfriends and I embarked on our first Slow Girls adventure - so named for the fact that we all hike slower than most and have no qualms about that. We conquered the Chilkoot together and, through cracking knees and bruised hips, were unstoppable. Slow Girls has become an institution as we go on as many adventures as possible, with misadventures ranging from porcupines to bear poles.
A few summers ago, while I was smoking with a male friend on the deck at the Brewco, a girl came up and started complimenting my friend. I inwardly rolled my eyes, thinking "Wow, look, another girl who's into Jim." As it turns out, the woman in question was not just another girl who was into one of my friends, but my future BFF (and, just because I have to mention it again, Jim's future wife).
The women I have come to be friends with in Skagway have been there in the darkest moments and in the most elated. When I was offered my first year-round job in Skagway this summer, before I was allowed to tell anyone, I got a bottle of champagne and celebrated with one of my girlfriends, the first local I told, and the first person I celebrated with. When Stimee died, the first person who came running to my aid was one of my girlfriends, who came to sit and wait for the police with me, and then went out to lunch with me. Whenever I have needed to go out and drink for celebration's sake or to drown my sorrows, I have been able to rely on my team of female comerades to accompany me. They're the ones who will cheers with me and they're the ones who will let me vent.
Since May my life has been through a lot of twists and turns I couldn't have possibly foreseen a year ago. My consciousness and mindset have been through the ringer and are still in the process of attempting to come out on top. My mind has rolled through a million different changes, and I've pondered how to become a better, happier person. I think tonight I came to the realization that allowing myself to be solely influenced by the men in my life has been to my detriment; I am surrounded by enough women with traits I wish I had that I should give them some of the power.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
2012 in 30 bullet points. The positives only.
Because it's easy to focus on the negative things that happen to you when you're still recovering from them, when people post facebook statuses including questions like "what are you thankful for" and "what are you grateful for in 2012", sometimes you want to punch them in the face. But. At the same time, though my mindset has been far from thankful or optimistic at all recently, I decided to reflect on what's gone on in 2012 that I've been grateful for, independent of and concurrent with the things that went horribly wrong.
I know it's a little early. Theoretically, this is a blog post that should be written on December 31st, with the onset of the new year. At the same time, there is that omnipresent possibility that in a few hours we'll all get blown up by a meteor or something, so, with the solstice upon us, the days getting longer so long as we live to see more days, I thought it was fitting to think about my 2012.
I think rather than esoteric streams of consciousness I will write this blog in a logical progression. Bullet points. Here we go. Things that happened in 2012 to be grateful for.
January
1. The best New Year's Eve party I've ever been to in my life. I'm not at liberty to discuss certain aspects of this party. All that aside, we (Stimee, Adam, Brady and I) arrived around 11 PM and left at 4:30 AM. It was an outdoor party at Marsh Lake (Yukon) with a massive fire, bands (one of them played in the time signature of 11/4, step aside Pink Floyd with your amateur 7/8), food, and drinks. And, unlike any other Northern party I've ever been to in my LIFE, no one was sloppy obnoxious drunk.
2. The river froze over enough in 2012 that I could participate in my personal favorite hike in Skagway - the hike on the river. I have found no hike to be more calming and adventurous at the same time.
February
3. I participated in the Valentines Day dance at the Elks by playing bass and piano with the band. It was a good time. It'd been years since i'd openly participated in a group (the last time was Goat Stick and we only played 3 songs). It got things moving for me, musically, that hadn't been stirred in a long time. Namely, it made me remember that at one time I used to like doing that.
March
4. I started babysitting for Adalynn in February or March. Best kid ever, that's all. No more elaborating really needs to happen here.
5. Tomorrow, When the War Began was made into a movie, which I acquired in March. I also re-read the book series and introduced a lot of friends to it.
6. Choose Respect Skagway happened and was an overwhelming success to a much greater extent than it was in 2011. Although I co-chaired the event this year, Kathy had to leave town at the last minute. So on top of giving a speech I also got to emcee the event. The support for the cause (cracking down on domestic violence and sexual assault locally) was incredible.
April
7. My nephew was born.
8. I spent time with my family and friends on the east coast (as a result of #7), who put on a wedding shower and a bachelorette party for me. I rode a roller coaster for the first time since before I moved to Alaska. Although the sense of impending breakup overshadowed the whole trip, I witnessed the miracle of life and the miracle of love.
9. I moved into Deano's boxcar. What a relief. What a happy home that was for me and Merlin.
May
10. The Avengers. Saw it in the theater twice on opening day.
11. I reconnected with an old crop of summer friends and connected for the first time with the new ones. Since I was newly single I spent an awful lot of time with my summer friends and made connections that will last a lifetime.
12. I won the costume contest at trivia night. Small, but if you are aware of how competetive I am, yeah, it was awesome.
13. I played with 4 Over 50 featuring Steve Hites at the Skagway Reunion, my first real bass gig since Five Til Midnight. What a rush.
June
14. 80s Night: For the first time in my life I was a part of a social setting that involved little else besides dancing. in fact, I danced for about six hours straight, in between drinking and smoking. And it was six of the best hours of my summer.
15. I was offered a year-round full-time job in Skagway. Did you catch that? Because I've been trying for five years. And I've been applying for every single job that has been posted. And I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that it would never happen for me. I had been imagining that moment for so long. I cried.
16. My parents came for their third visit. Many adventures were had, and they got to experience the 4th of July festivities.
July
17. I got second place in the arm wrestling on 4th of July.
18. I hung out with the pipe band from Whitehorse, drinking and playing music, getting a feel for the Scottish games i've been missing all these years.
August 19. I moved into a new house. A real house. Back at the north end of town where I belong.
20. I bought a van. I took said van on many adventures.
21. I spent a sunny, gorgeous day on the rocks by Smuggler's watching whales and eagles with Philip. The whales were basically swimming circles around us.
22. Lynx and Northern lights with Stephanie.
September 23. An unprecedented appreciation for friends and family, biological and otherwise. I never could have expected how much support I could have had during the otherwise miserable month of September.
October
24. My brother visited Alaska for the first time. Words can't really describe how much amazing came from that.
25. I started writing songs again for the first time in ages.
26. Harley Quinn for Halloween. The reason I am thankful for this is because I am thankful for the less-than-ten people who recognized and knew who Harley Quinn is.
November
27. Election. I am thankful for the election and grateful for its results.
28. EL MERCADO!! Now every Saturday I can go out and get tacos. In Skagway. In winter. Unprecedented.
29. Being brought Thanksgiving dinner at work.
December
30. Jim and Katie restored my faith in humanity. OK, not entirely, but they sure made me feel like love actually does exist.
I know it's a little early. Theoretically, this is a blog post that should be written on December 31st, with the onset of the new year. At the same time, there is that omnipresent possibility that in a few hours we'll all get blown up by a meteor or something, so, with the solstice upon us, the days getting longer so long as we live to see more days, I thought it was fitting to think about my 2012.
I think rather than esoteric streams of consciousness I will write this blog in a logical progression. Bullet points. Here we go. Things that happened in 2012 to be grateful for.
January
1. The best New Year's Eve party I've ever been to in my life. I'm not at liberty to discuss certain aspects of this party. All that aside, we (Stimee, Adam, Brady and I) arrived around 11 PM and left at 4:30 AM. It was an outdoor party at Marsh Lake (Yukon) with a massive fire, bands (one of them played in the time signature of 11/4, step aside Pink Floyd with your amateur 7/8), food, and drinks. And, unlike any other Northern party I've ever been to in my LIFE, no one was sloppy obnoxious drunk.
2. The river froze over enough in 2012 that I could participate in my personal favorite hike in Skagway - the hike on the river. I have found no hike to be more calming and adventurous at the same time.
February
3. I participated in the Valentines Day dance at the Elks by playing bass and piano with the band. It was a good time. It'd been years since i'd openly participated in a group (the last time was Goat Stick and we only played 3 songs). It got things moving for me, musically, that hadn't been stirred in a long time. Namely, it made me remember that at one time I used to like doing that.
March
4. I started babysitting for Adalynn in February or March. Best kid ever, that's all. No more elaborating really needs to happen here.
5. Tomorrow, When the War Began was made into a movie, which I acquired in March. I also re-read the book series and introduced a lot of friends to it.
6. Choose Respect Skagway happened and was an overwhelming success to a much greater extent than it was in 2011. Although I co-chaired the event this year, Kathy had to leave town at the last minute. So on top of giving a speech I also got to emcee the event. The support for the cause (cracking down on domestic violence and sexual assault locally) was incredible.
April
7. My nephew was born.
8. I spent time with my family and friends on the east coast (as a result of #7), who put on a wedding shower and a bachelorette party for me. I rode a roller coaster for the first time since before I moved to Alaska. Although the sense of impending breakup overshadowed the whole trip, I witnessed the miracle of life and the miracle of love.
9. I moved into Deano's boxcar. What a relief. What a happy home that was for me and Merlin.
May
10. The Avengers. Saw it in the theater twice on opening day.
11. I reconnected with an old crop of summer friends and connected for the first time with the new ones. Since I was newly single I spent an awful lot of time with my summer friends and made connections that will last a lifetime.
12. I won the costume contest at trivia night. Small, but if you are aware of how competetive I am, yeah, it was awesome.
13. I played with 4 Over 50 featuring Steve Hites at the Skagway Reunion, my first real bass gig since Five Til Midnight. What a rush.
June
14. 80s Night: For the first time in my life I was a part of a social setting that involved little else besides dancing. in fact, I danced for about six hours straight, in between drinking and smoking. And it was six of the best hours of my summer.
15. I was offered a year-round full-time job in Skagway. Did you catch that? Because I've been trying for five years. And I've been applying for every single job that has been posted. And I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that it would never happen for me. I had been imagining that moment for so long. I cried.
16. My parents came for their third visit. Many adventures were had, and they got to experience the 4th of July festivities.
July
17. I got second place in the arm wrestling on 4th of July.
18. I hung out with the pipe band from Whitehorse, drinking and playing music, getting a feel for the Scottish games i've been missing all these years.
August 19. I moved into a new house. A real house. Back at the north end of town where I belong.
20. I bought a van. I took said van on many adventures.
21. I spent a sunny, gorgeous day on the rocks by Smuggler's watching whales and eagles with Philip. The whales were basically swimming circles around us.
22. Lynx and Northern lights with Stephanie.
September 23. An unprecedented appreciation for friends and family, biological and otherwise. I never could have expected how much support I could have had during the otherwise miserable month of September.
October
24. My brother visited Alaska for the first time. Words can't really describe how much amazing came from that.
25. I started writing songs again for the first time in ages.
26. Harley Quinn for Halloween. The reason I am thankful for this is because I am thankful for the less-than-ten people who recognized and knew who Harley Quinn is.
November
27. Election. I am thankful for the election and grateful for its results.
28. EL MERCADO!! Now every Saturday I can go out and get tacos. In Skagway. In winter. Unprecedented.
29. Being brought Thanksgiving dinner at work.
December
30. Jim and Katie restored my faith in humanity. OK, not entirely, but they sure made me feel like love actually does exist.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Falling in love with/in Skagway
As I now find myself in the midst of my longest stretch of singlehood in Skagway (up until recently, the combined total of 5 and a half years in Skagway was about 2 months single), I've been reflecting on relationships (and lack thereof) here and how everything has fit together for me in the past.
I remember reading one of those magazines where girls write in with their dating problems. One girl wrote in about how all these men turned out all wrong for her and/or broke up with her. The advice columnist bluntly responded by saying "the only constant in these relationships is you." Pretty obvious, but not always relatable when you're in the middle of a situation.
I've been thinking about that column lately (as i always do after epic relationship fails) and, while I've drawn a lot of conclusions about myself and life as a result, I've also been wondering (as so many of us do) if my little town is really the best place to seek out and pursue romantic relationships. A summer friend told me that I should get out and go somewhere that has a bigger pool to pick from. I'm inclined to agree, and if I ever decide I want long-term romantic relationships again I may do that.
My decision that Skagway is not a good place to find a suitable partner for myself was highlighted by a delightful soundtrack including, most recently, Pink Floyd and Def Leppard. I loudly proclaimed that all the men in my past were "just another brick in the wall." Yes, i know that's not what the song actually means, but that was my interpretation after "i don't need no arms around me." (Which, for the record, I don't.)
I had a pretty good spread the other night with a few of my favorite things: While my dog camped out at my feet, I enjoyed a shepherd's pie (unfortunately it was out of a box), a Rolling Rock (once again unavailable at any bar in town), a puzzle (this one is cheesy - unicorns and rainbows) and a classic rock hit list (Def Leppard's greatest hits). Not surprisingly, I was really feeling "Love Bites" to the extent that I pulled up the lyrics online and listened to it over and over again. After exhausting that track to its max potential, I switched over to my personal favorite, in the same vein, "Bringin on the Heartbreak."
It's one of my favorite songs to sing at karaoke because of the inherent sexiness of it. Sadly, most karaoke guys don't have it in their collections (in my experience) so I only get to rock out to it with the original track. As I assembled pink and purple fragments of unicorns on my dining room table I turned the speakers on my computer up as loud as they go and sang to my heart's content - over and over and over. Because sometimes when you're really feeling it, that's what you have to do to express yourself and get it all out of your system.
Drowning my bitchy mood with Rolling Rock and the occasional cigarette (even though "i don't need no drugs to calm me") I was caught off guard when I heard my phone ringing. The music was so loud I could barely hear it. Sadly, in spite of the mood I was in - down with love, men are assholes, etc - when my phone rang there were a number of men who jumped into my brain as being people I would love to be calling me in that moment. That irritates the hell out of me.
It was not actually anyone from my binder full of men calling at that moment. What caught me off-guard was that it was Katie. She and I communicate primarily via text and facebook message when we're not talking in person (when we're in person we communicate primarily via sarcasm, innuendo and bad lip reading). Phone calls are rare and usually warrant worry that an emergency is imminent.
"Did you get my text?" Katie asked. She sounded excited.
"No," I said, explaining that my music had been too loud to hear anything and that I barely even heard my phone go off.
"Well," Katie continued, "I sent you a text asking if you wanted to see a picture of our first Christmas tree. We just put up our first Christmas tree so I was going to see if you wanted to see a picture of it. But then instead of sending you a picture of our Christmas tree I was going to send you a picture of my engagement ring."
And there went Def Leppard.
There went all of it, actually. There went my Alanis-Morisette-circa-Jagged-Little-Pill mindset, there went my recently held belief that anyone getting married is an idiot, there went my cynical exterior and anger toward the institution of romance itself for what it's put me through. And suddenly the soft gooey center was back out again.
I used to cry in movies whenever anyone got married. Whenever I watched the Grey's Anatomy episode (yeah, shut up) where Alex and Izzie get married I always cried, every single time. Anytime anyone went up the aisle or even got engaged the waterworks were on. Since May, when my own wedding was cancelled (another one), and particularly since that robot stage of grief started in September, movies don't do that for me anymore. With the exception of a very weepy Ashley during the end of "Father of the Bride," weddings mean Jack Schitt to me nowadays. Since I decided to no longer plan on getting married it just hasn't been that meaningful.
But i freaked the hell out when Katie announced over the phone that Jim had proposed. They've been planning on it for a while, like most people nowadays before the official rigamarole with the ring and the knee and all happens. But for some reason, the ritualistic action of making it official in their case turned this grinch's heart three sizes bigger. I turned giddy on the phone, hardly able to contain my excitement. Finally it dawned on me and I told Katie : "I've been so cynical about relationships lately, and hate this kind of stuff, but I'm actually really happy for you guys. I'm not even faking it because I love you guys so much."
Well, I guess that settles that. Skagway, as it turns out, may be a decent place for other people to find relationships - just not so much for me. Which all comes back to that advice column. If the constant of Skagway isn't to blame... then the only other constant is me.
At this point, it doesn't really matter, I guess. Now that I'm no longer looking for long-term relationships of any kind, let alone the kind that end effectively with a white dress and a life sentence (shit, sorry, did i just say that?), it's not really important to me to figure out what I've done wrong across the board. Actually, that's not entirely true. What I've done wrong across the board has been a pretty simple act: what I've done wrong that's helped result in choosing the wrong partners has been my age-old Disney Princess desire to do nothing in life other than get married. Ironic, I guess.
All of that aside, there's nowhere better to fall in love than Skagway. The first time I fell in love in Skagway it was concurrent to falling in love WITH Skagway. That was a simpler time. I sometimes wish that I had neither fallen in love in Skagway nor with it. If I had just spent a summer here and moved on, things would have been so much different. A year and a half of my life (or 3 years of my life, if you include the prison time that resulted from our relationship and until the end of which I wouldn't really be free of him) was wasted on Allen and, one could argue, five and a half have been wasted in Skagway. What have I really gotten out of it? Not much that's tangible. A lot of grief over a lot of shit hitting a lot of fans. A lot of attachments that broke apart just as suddenly as they formed. A lot of scars that run too deep to erase, that i'll carry with me for the rest of my life.
Hey you, out there beyond the wall, breaking bottles in the hall! Can you help me?
Today an ex from many, many years ago dropped by my house to bring a box full of my things over. He and I did not end on good terms, in any of the numerous times that we broke up. It's only been recently that we even acknowledge each other's presence with a head nod or smile. I couldn't believe it. My favorite dress. My favorite jacket. My watch. A lot of other articles of clothing. It baffled me that he brought them back. I had just assumed that, after us not ending well, he'd tossed them in the incinerator. But no, he told me, he didn't want to do that because he thought there might be some sentimental value in something I'd left at his house so many years ago.
I'm still wondering if there is any sentimental value in any of it - the clothes I got back from my ex, the memories I've made in Skagway, the five-and-a-half-year's worth of notebooks of memoirs I've compiled in living here since 07. Was any of it really worth it, in the long run? Skagway, just like this enigmatic entity known as "love", has given me some of the best and worst times of my life. They've both had me walking on air and they've both drawn and quartered my spirit. Every rose has its thorn, but is it really worth cutting your finger so many times just to have something nice to look at for a little while til it dies in the vase?
I guess when I start to forget about all of that, there's people like Jim and Katie to bring me back.
The fact that I'm listening to "The Wall" as I write this may make it a little disjointed, disconnected, and I'm fairly certain it all comes together in my head a little tighter than it actually does on your computer screen.
I remember reading one of those magazines where girls write in with their dating problems. One girl wrote in about how all these men turned out all wrong for her and/or broke up with her. The advice columnist bluntly responded by saying "the only constant in these relationships is you." Pretty obvious, but not always relatable when you're in the middle of a situation.
I've been thinking about that column lately (as i always do after epic relationship fails) and, while I've drawn a lot of conclusions about myself and life as a result, I've also been wondering (as so many of us do) if my little town is really the best place to seek out and pursue romantic relationships. A summer friend told me that I should get out and go somewhere that has a bigger pool to pick from. I'm inclined to agree, and if I ever decide I want long-term romantic relationships again I may do that.
My decision that Skagway is not a good place to find a suitable partner for myself was highlighted by a delightful soundtrack including, most recently, Pink Floyd and Def Leppard. I loudly proclaimed that all the men in my past were "just another brick in the wall." Yes, i know that's not what the song actually means, but that was my interpretation after "i don't need no arms around me." (Which, for the record, I don't.)
I had a pretty good spread the other night with a few of my favorite things: While my dog camped out at my feet, I enjoyed a shepherd's pie (unfortunately it was out of a box), a Rolling Rock (once again unavailable at any bar in town), a puzzle (this one is cheesy - unicorns and rainbows) and a classic rock hit list (Def Leppard's greatest hits). Not surprisingly, I was really feeling "Love Bites" to the extent that I pulled up the lyrics online and listened to it over and over again. After exhausting that track to its max potential, I switched over to my personal favorite, in the same vein, "Bringin on the Heartbreak."
It's one of my favorite songs to sing at karaoke because of the inherent sexiness of it. Sadly, most karaoke guys don't have it in their collections (in my experience) so I only get to rock out to it with the original track. As I assembled pink and purple fragments of unicorns on my dining room table I turned the speakers on my computer up as loud as they go and sang to my heart's content - over and over and over. Because sometimes when you're really feeling it, that's what you have to do to express yourself and get it all out of your system.
Drowning my bitchy mood with Rolling Rock and the occasional cigarette (even though "i don't need no drugs to calm me") I was caught off guard when I heard my phone ringing. The music was so loud I could barely hear it. Sadly, in spite of the mood I was in - down with love, men are assholes, etc - when my phone rang there were a number of men who jumped into my brain as being people I would love to be calling me in that moment. That irritates the hell out of me.
It was not actually anyone from my binder full of men calling at that moment. What caught me off-guard was that it was Katie. She and I communicate primarily via text and facebook message when we're not talking in person (when we're in person we communicate primarily via sarcasm, innuendo and bad lip reading). Phone calls are rare and usually warrant worry that an emergency is imminent.
"Did you get my text?" Katie asked. She sounded excited.
"No," I said, explaining that my music had been too loud to hear anything and that I barely even heard my phone go off.
"Well," Katie continued, "I sent you a text asking if you wanted to see a picture of our first Christmas tree. We just put up our first Christmas tree so I was going to see if you wanted to see a picture of it. But then instead of sending you a picture of our Christmas tree I was going to send you a picture of my engagement ring."
And there went Def Leppard.
There went all of it, actually. There went my Alanis-Morisette-circa-Jagged-Little-Pill mindset, there went my recently held belief that anyone getting married is an idiot, there went my cynical exterior and anger toward the institution of romance itself for what it's put me through. And suddenly the soft gooey center was back out again.
I used to cry in movies whenever anyone got married. Whenever I watched the Grey's Anatomy episode (yeah, shut up) where Alex and Izzie get married I always cried, every single time. Anytime anyone went up the aisle or even got engaged the waterworks were on. Since May, when my own wedding was cancelled (another one), and particularly since that robot stage of grief started in September, movies don't do that for me anymore. With the exception of a very weepy Ashley during the end of "Father of the Bride," weddings mean Jack Schitt to me nowadays. Since I decided to no longer plan on getting married it just hasn't been that meaningful.
But i freaked the hell out when Katie announced over the phone that Jim had proposed. They've been planning on it for a while, like most people nowadays before the official rigamarole with the ring and the knee and all happens. But for some reason, the ritualistic action of making it official in their case turned this grinch's heart three sizes bigger. I turned giddy on the phone, hardly able to contain my excitement. Finally it dawned on me and I told Katie : "I've been so cynical about relationships lately, and hate this kind of stuff, but I'm actually really happy for you guys. I'm not even faking it because I love you guys so much."
Well, I guess that settles that. Skagway, as it turns out, may be a decent place for other people to find relationships - just not so much for me. Which all comes back to that advice column. If the constant of Skagway isn't to blame... then the only other constant is me.
At this point, it doesn't really matter, I guess. Now that I'm no longer looking for long-term relationships of any kind, let alone the kind that end effectively with a white dress and a life sentence (shit, sorry, did i just say that?), it's not really important to me to figure out what I've done wrong across the board. Actually, that's not entirely true. What I've done wrong across the board has been a pretty simple act: what I've done wrong that's helped result in choosing the wrong partners has been my age-old Disney Princess desire to do nothing in life other than get married. Ironic, I guess.
All of that aside, there's nowhere better to fall in love than Skagway. The first time I fell in love in Skagway it was concurrent to falling in love WITH Skagway. That was a simpler time. I sometimes wish that I had neither fallen in love in Skagway nor with it. If I had just spent a summer here and moved on, things would have been so much different. A year and a half of my life (or 3 years of my life, if you include the prison time that resulted from our relationship and until the end of which I wouldn't really be free of him) was wasted on Allen and, one could argue, five and a half have been wasted in Skagway. What have I really gotten out of it? Not much that's tangible. A lot of grief over a lot of shit hitting a lot of fans. A lot of attachments that broke apart just as suddenly as they formed. A lot of scars that run too deep to erase, that i'll carry with me for the rest of my life.
Hey you, out there beyond the wall, breaking bottles in the hall! Can you help me?
Today an ex from many, many years ago dropped by my house to bring a box full of my things over. He and I did not end on good terms, in any of the numerous times that we broke up. It's only been recently that we even acknowledge each other's presence with a head nod or smile. I couldn't believe it. My favorite dress. My favorite jacket. My watch. A lot of other articles of clothing. It baffled me that he brought them back. I had just assumed that, after us not ending well, he'd tossed them in the incinerator. But no, he told me, he didn't want to do that because he thought there might be some sentimental value in something I'd left at his house so many years ago.
I'm still wondering if there is any sentimental value in any of it - the clothes I got back from my ex, the memories I've made in Skagway, the five-and-a-half-year's worth of notebooks of memoirs I've compiled in living here since 07. Was any of it really worth it, in the long run? Skagway, just like this enigmatic entity known as "love", has given me some of the best and worst times of my life. They've both had me walking on air and they've both drawn and quartered my spirit. Every rose has its thorn, but is it really worth cutting your finger so many times just to have something nice to look at for a little while til it dies in the vase?
I guess when I start to forget about all of that, there's people like Jim and Katie to bring me back.
The fact that I'm listening to "The Wall" as I write this may make it a little disjointed, disconnected, and I'm fairly certain it all comes together in my head a little tighter than it actually does on your computer screen.
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