is this horrible or wonderful?

We've all heard it, "wikipedia is not a source," not that this has stopped any of us from actually using the site and then just omitting it from the bibliography of whatever we are researching.

And yet, today while reading an article blurb on The New York Time's blog "Ideas" http://ideas.blogs.nytimes.com/ I clicked a link to John Rawl's biography onto to find myself on... his Wikipedia page? Is this a vindication of a formally dubious source or reason to discredit a well-established source? In other words, what the fuck?

"but AA shirts are soooo comfy!"

Went to a Mirah show. Walking around Capitol Hill in Seattle was like walking around some outdoor American apparel playground. Also a lot of lesbians and boys who weigh way about as much as my left thigh.

Realizing what a douche bag you must have been at the show/movie/party/family dinner/ large lecture section/ school function/bon dance last night is always a shitty feeling. I stood behind the blackout girls at the Mirah concert. Hipsters are notoriously judgmental and I could just feel the hate from the crowd being magnified by their rimless glasses and boring into these girls like rainbow colored laser guns. Thank god for the blow and 12 corona lights the two girls probably shared before showing up at the club, or else they might have noticed the hatin’. During their freak dance session to the opening act’s ukulele cover of Cher’s “do you believe in life after love?” One fell over and the other walked away into the crowd. no one helped the one on the ground get up, and when she finally managed to stumble to her feet, she had this puppy eyed look of blackout abandonment and squeaked out a confused, “Lauren?” before faltering off to find her friend. People giggled and I got a better view.

The neighborhood that my cousins live in is similar to the hipster scene. their house alone has all the right ingredients to be stunning; high ceilings, marble counters and floors, long mirrors, 20 foot windows, and multiple plasma TVs, but when nuzzled 10 feet on each side by identical looking faux-mansions, it just looks plain tacky. I got lost for 40 minutes today driving through different communities named “the pinnacle”, “the woodlands”, and “china creek” because every house, street, driveway, BMW SUVs looked exactly the same. sure, side bangs compliment nearly every face shape; skinny jeans are hot if you weight under 120 lbs; plaid is cute and Raybans are classic, but Jesus Christ when you get into a room and 1 in 3 people are wearing one of those no one looks cool.

Yes, I have had side bangs and I probably will have them again, so I guess I’m guilty too. Sacrificing live music just to avoid fashion suffocation is too large a price to pay, so I guess I’ll just have to keep on trucking.

don't worry, i won't start wearing mom jeans

out of sitka into seattle

i looked like a meth addicted hobo getting onto the plane. i had mosqueeto bites all over and wet hair. i had 1o0 lbs of crap allocated into two rolling luggage bags, and, thanks to gas price fueled airline restrictions, had to wear everything else. this means that my handbag included 4 books, a scale, my teddybear, a tuxedo shirt, a wool sweater, 4 longs bags full of pictures, a polaroid, my fisheye etc. and that i wore my ipod and bose headphones, digital camera, a scarf, an ukelele with two eagle feathers and another book inside the case, and my muscratt hunting hat. people stared.

for some reason, i've been thinking a lot about visage and attractiveness. in sitka, anything with legs is considered sexy. i blame this on the long woman-less weeks of hard labor in the middle of the ocean. cool in sitka doesn't really exist. there simply aren't enough people to have a social heirarchy, at least in my experience.

today i ran errands and waded through the infinte strip malls that comprise the greater seattle area with my aunty and cousin. the vastness and diversity of the people was startling after crunchy, vanilla alaska. i saw so many shapes and colors and faces and proportions that i couldn't tell what was beautiful from what was ugly, what was cool from what was stupid, what was desirable from what was repulsive. in my shell shock, i just saw. skinny people were skinny. some people put gell in their hair. what's the difference?

nowhere to sleep

yesterday, with my day really to myself for the first time all summer (is it even still summer?), i walked 20 minutes along the side of the highway to visit the owls at the rapture center. owls are my new and first favorite animals since horses in the fifth grade and cheetas in kindergarden. i love the bright yellow of their retennas and how they hardly ever break eye contact with you, neck rotating 270 degress just to make sure that you aren't fucking with them. they are a mix between wizards and pimps in mean fur coats.

i was supposed to go to the island on sunday to "collect my bellongings", but turns out that phil's rather impetuous and dramatic decission to fire me had an affect on his family. His wife Gwen was in bed all day with high blood pressure caused by stress and her heart condition, and daughter Jess had a severe anxiety attack! does this mean they like me? when i got a boat to the island at 12:30 yesterday (i got to drive!) to get my shit, jessica was there to meet me at the dock because i wasn't allowed anywhere without her supervision. why? "because that's protocal." shit, what did phil think i was gonna do?

post-goodbyes etc. i was stepping with my left leg into the boat, my cell phone slipped out of my genie pants' soft cotton goodness and into the ocean. watching my primary means of communication with anyone i love sink lackadaisically through the verdent water was less than inspirational. an hour later using a 24 foot pole with an empty yogurt container duck taped at the end, tim fished out my very dead cell phone and my (thank god) working SIM card. no t-moblie shop for a good 500 miles so i am offically cellphone-less until i get to seattle, probably within a week

caught a pink and drove to the water reservoir, passing a huge snow bank covered in dirt with josh (who agreed to put me up for up to ten days in exchange for my mad dishwashing skillz) and this ageless wigga named tom who chugged a third a fifth of smirnoff and didn't feel anything. watched josh's wife's softball game with the alaska's answer to mokes and got to drive a car for the first time since jun 14th.

after the game went to watch v for vendetta at spencer's apartment (he's from hilo) and then when opening josh's front door afterwards, realized that josh and alicia were banging in the living room... right in front of where i was supposed to sleep. closed the door, left the keys on the porch, and ran like hell back to spencer's house, where i fell asleep on the floor. oh, sitka.

more like a beginning

Phil,
Thursday you made it clear that you were overstaffed and that my presence at the lodge was not imperative to finish a successful season. Now assured that my leaving would not damage the lodge, I feel that my own personal well being necessitates my resignation from Talon Lodge, my last day being August 28th, 2008.
This resignation has no relation to the issue of my schedule. I made it clear to Jessica during our conversation that I understood I couldn’t have my specified day off. I regret that my emotions and not my head controlled how my conversation with Jessica ended and I apologize for the unprofessional statements that were made.
I am resigning because I am tremendously unhappy here. I feel that I cannot live in an environment where the border between professional and personal life is blurred to the point of being indiscernible. I cannot live in an environment where the independence that constitutes such an enormous part of my identity is persistently repressed, my efforts to act in the most professional and mature manner of my ability are demeaned and disrespected by the comportment of my superiors, and where opposing opinions are granted no validity. I cannot work and act with alacrity under these conditions and therefore cannot fulfill my duties at the lodge.
This experience has been illuminating apropos my own abilities to overcome obstacles as well as to distinguish certain lines in the sand that I will not cross. As you once said, I will take the good from this experience and leave the bad behind. There has been much on both fronts and I am forever grateful of the opportunity you have given me and regretful of my inability to complete the season.



I was planning to give this letter to phil (my ex-boss) tomorrow morning. Last night, though, I left my shift about 20 minutes early and had autumn cover for me. Brooks picked me up and the dock and took me in so that I could see my friend Mason who was in town for the night. Phil didn't want me to do this, but I didn't tell him. I figure that what I do on my free time is my choice. Apparently, he didn't think so, and so he called me and left me a message telling me I don't have a job anymore and that I have to go pick up my belongings from the island sometime today. I asked Josh if I could trade my mad dishwashing skills for a room and his house, and he said the answer was a probable yes but that he had to ask his wife.

I'm at the highliner cafe with a filled out application next to me. On it, I wrote that I was seeking temporary employment until September 18th. Dad's coming to visit on the 26th and we're going to Juno until the 29th. I think that leaving the AK after that wouldn't be too bad of an idea. Maybe hit up Seattle, prolong my stay in Portland thanks to a commune that Kelly Aldinger offered to hook me up with, and live under Alix's bed for a week and a half in L.A. I guess time will tell. I don't think I want to stay in Sitka any longer than I have to. Application is going in the trash in 3..2...1...