It’s like the portal to Crayola’s secret lair
That’s the prettiest freaking thing I’ve ever seen. And it’s in Yellowstone, too. I was FREAKING THERE when I was a kid; why wasn’t I shown this natural wonder of spectacular gaudiness?!
When I die, please chuck my ashes in there. If it’s not illegal. Actually, throw half of me in there, the other half around Leibniz’ grave.
Incidentally, at my funeral, no one is allowed to wear black. Neon that place up, I want it looking like a rave party.
Deal? Deal.
I want spaghetti.
500 miles this year!
Graph (might have to click to enlarge):
Note: some of those actually occurred on the same day, so the daily totals are actually usually higher than 9 miles on the weekends.
I know it’s not a LOT of miles, but it’s pretty good considering that I spend about 14 of my waking hours on campus doing schoolwork.
So my realistic goal for the year is a total of 1,500 miles; my (probably) unattainable goal is 2,000.
We’ll see how it goes down this summer.
And I’ve been putting my walking-related posts under the “health” category, but I think I’ll start putting them under “travel.” Because really.
Oh, also: I’m addicted to Minecraft now. Or at least I’m getting there. I’ll have more time to be addicted once the semester’s over (NOTHING COMES BETWEEN ME AND MY SCHOOLWORK, NOTHING!).
Shenanigans at 30,000 feet
I am SO sick of flying. Still not sick of airports, though.
On the flight up from Tucson to Seattle I sat next to this 60-something-year-old lady who kept pulling those little mini vodkas out of her purse and kept getting progressively more drunk the closer we got to Seattle.
Some of the highlights included:
- When she took a paper Burger King crown out of her purse, put it on and shouted, “I’m the co-pilot!”
- When she looked down the front of her own shirt and whispered, “I’ve found me Lucky Charms!”
- Her telling me all about her three sons for about fifteen minutes, then laughing hysterically and saying, “I’m just kidding! They’re daughters.”
- When she finally fell dead asleep about 30 minutes out from Seattle and slumped down so far in her seat that she would have slid out onto the floor had there been more leg room.
Exciting times. I also got to sit in Sea-Tac for like five hours. As usual.
Travellin’
If I were to rank the places I’ve been in terms of how much time I’ve spent there, it would go as follows:
- Moscow, ID
- Vancouver, BC
- London, ON
- SeaTac International Airport
Seriously. 99% of the time I fly, I have to fly through Seattle. 99% of those times, my layover is 3+ hours. Today, it was about 4 ½. It’s cool, though. I like that airport. They’ve got these awesome rocking chairs in the main food court thingy and they face a huge window looking out at all the runways/planes. They also rotate the artwork exhibits that are in the terminal hallways quite often, and they’re always pretty great.
ANYWAY.
I’m headed to Moscow! I’m actually in SeaTac right now; I’ll be home in three hours or so. Our old gang needs to get together and “party” in the basement.
And now I’m going to work on some stats stuff. I slacked off majorly and didn’t start my Stats Weekly posts at the beginning of the year (for various reasons); I’ll try to get it up for the midpoint of the year.
Vroom!
In This Blog: I finally take some pictures off my camera
A picture from high up on Mount Lemmon.
The car accident damage and our beautiful duct tape job.
A picture from inside the Ag Sci building at UI.
A beautiful cat at a cat show in London.
DEATH STARE!
Yay!
Isn’t it crazy…
How certain images of where we’ve been just appear super vividly in our heads every once in a while?
Walking down East Hastings in Vancouver
The highway out to Coquitlam.
Granville St. bridge
My old apartment complex
Fraser St. heading down to the Canadian Superstore
2011, you need to end
I swear the plane from Seattle to Tucson took a detour to Miami, ‘cause that was the longest flight EVER.
But now I’m here. It’s like 60 degrees. It’s really, really nice to see my mom again.
I’ll take some pics; they’ll be up soon.
Edit: PICS!
HEY FOOLS!
I’m in Lewiston right now, waiting (hoping) to fly out at 6 tomorrow morning to go to Tucson. I say “hoping” because as we drove down Lewiston was invisible under a thick cloud (pictures later, camera cord is packed away). Underneath the cloud was pretty surreal and awesome, but it doesn’t bode well for aircraft travel, unfortunately.
My dad’s going to call Alaska Air tonight at 11:30 to see if the Pullman-Seattle plane even landed; if not, I guess I won’t be flying out tomorrow.
I Coulda Been a Container
I’ve been up since 4 AM Eastern Time yesterday (Saturday). It is now 1:30 AM Pacific Time on Sunday. London to Chicago to Las Vegas to Seattle to Pullman to Moscow. Six hours in Las Vegas.
Party in the USA.
In other news, the Chicago O’Hare Airport has some pretty badass lighting going down in Terminal 2. Evidence:
If I ever end up with tons and tons of money? This. On every ceiling in my house. 24/7.
30-Day Meme – Day 23: What your last dream you can remember was about.
I had this really weird H. G. Wells-esque dream about a scientist who is somehow able to go into the future like 10,000 years. He finds out that a disease had destroyed a whole generation’s worth of humans’ eyesight and, for some reason, all subsequent generations’ eyesight as well. Therefore, everyone he meets is “blind” (and their eyes are bound over by these weird webs of skin and eyelashes explained loosely by crazy awesome dream science) and they become fascinated with him when he describes to them this thing called “sight.”
Not unlike the “in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king” adage, the scientist soon realizes that these individuals (who are living in a land that has once again become rich in resources that are scarce in the time of the scientist) can be taken advantage of because they cannot see him. He begins to pilfer from them, lightly at first, and then begins to eventually shape and alter parts of their routines and culture in order to get them to procure for him all these valuable resources. Little does the scientist know, however, these people have developed this sort of “extra sense” that allows them to “see” what the scientist is doing to them. They wait and play along with him for awhile to get him comfortable in the environment, then a bunch of them eventually capture the scientist and he is subject to quite a graphic and disturbing bit of torture involving the people injecting all these weird chemicals into the scientist’s eyes. It was…odd.
That’s all.
We’re in ON!
WOOHOO, we finally made it!
My mom and I got to London this afternoon (no trouble at the border, though my student visa is going to be a pain), drove around, found my dorm, unloaded all my crap in seemingly record time, experienced the wonder that is the Real Canadian Superstore yet again, got a desk at WalMart, and are now hanging out in my dorm room. Which, by the way, seems nothing like a dorm room and more like my old apartment.
I like it here so far.
Pictures to come whenever I get everything organized and find my camera cable.
