something to brag about

two years ago, when i was a fresh-faced VISTA newly appointed to juneau, my agency had me and a couple coworkers discuss our school program on a regional talk show called "capital chat". then, i was a nervous novice, and my only contribution may have been saying that the cold weather didn't bother me as much as the low-hanging clouds did. i don't even know if i meant it so much as i read it somewhere and regurgitated the opinion because if you ask me that now, i'd say yeah, it all bugs me. the cold, the clouds, the rain, the outrageous price gouging and alaska airline's exploitation of our lack of roads. this year, i presented again as a seasoned veteran with my supervisor, and we were lobbing heartfelt stories, impressive statistics and impassioned pitches with the ease of a guy on steroids whacking a whiffle ball. our CEO told me i made him tear up. now that's the kind of tear shedding i can be proud about, rather than my usual ways of making people cry.

our discussion was aided by the new release of a national study on our school based program. matched students, in comparison with non-matched youth, showed significant improvements in certain academic areas such as science, oral and written language; school efficacy; and classroom behavior. with this research backing, we can confidently say for just a little time, you make a big difference. and the fun part is that these improvements occurred not from being specifically tutored but by focusing on social interactions. you don't have to be a math expert or a literary genius to help a kid; you just have to be a friend.

okay, this post looks like an advertisement, but i am really proud of the agency's work. i don't think i could ever have a job just for a paycheck.

back on the horse

thank really great naps for me not writing in awhile. i dragged two down comforters and 5 pillows to the living room and have been vegging out watching dvds ever since last weekend. sinking into this heavenly feather bedding has been more satisfying than my carb overload after a failed two day atkins diet attempt. i don't even know why i told my sister i'd endure the voluntary food torture with her. i took an anthropology of food class in college that lambasted the atkins, south beach, and zone diets. my sis wanted to do it in preparation for jamaica. as if getting in bikini body shape isn't hard enough - she wants to check out the nude beach too.

i keep telling myself i deserve all this slothfulness after working really hard last week in the final lap to yakutat's first ever bowl for kids sake, which i coordinated. it exceeded our revenue goal by $1000, and the community really enjoyed the event and even started talking about purchasing bowling lanes and equipment for themselves. i also organized an end-of-school year party for our School Program, which turned semi-mutinous when the pinata suffered enthusiastic beatings but refused to break. eventually, a kid just pulled it off the rope and absconded with it while the other children chased him around the gym; all the while, chocolate bars were dropping all over the place. it was pretty funny, and the parents got to snag some candy too.

another fun thing last week was our agency volunteering at project playground for an afternoon. the project is this huge endeavor to build a playground at twin lakes with donated materials, labor, and food. the guy who started it was the same person who brought big brothers big sisters to southeast alaska in 1979. for 3 hours, my coworker and i just shlepped 2x4s and 2x6s to piles while the safety coordinator with the anger problem yelled and watched suspiciously, but in the last hour, i got to work with power tools!

food news (what else?): i tried my oaxacan hot chocolate with a bit of ancho chile powder, mmm. i made lumpia shanghai (filipino egg rolls) for our donor/sponsor thank-you event this week, and despite competing with taquitos donated from a mexican place and pulled pork rolls from wild spice, mine was the only one in the fried rolls department that was all gone, yay. for dinner tonight, homemade wild salmon cakes cajun style served on a bed of greens with red onion, corn, and cilantro; roasted potatoes & garlic; and green chile cheddar soup.

so here i am in the Yakutat Lodge bar waiting for my delayed flight to Juneau, and i'm sandwiched between the Yakutat city public works one-man show and a longliner fisherman from Tacoma talking about the VA Tech killer, gambling, and Bowl For Kids Sake. no matter where i am, i am constantly plugging. i wonder if i can claim this beer as a business expense.

oh! hey, while i've been typing this i recruited the public works dude to be a team captain, woohoo!!

i'm one to talk

flying to another city and back within 8 hours reminds me of a crazy fun gambling binge in seattle except today it was to hoonah and it was for work. i helped our coordinator there at her bowl for kids sake by doing all the accounting & registration in addition to emceeing the last session. what's kind of nuts is that this is our first year ever doing bowl for kids sake in yakutat, i'm in charge of finding sponsors and recruiting some team captains, and on the actual day of the event, no one else is flying with me to help. ack. i'm flying there next week for 3 days to do some prep. the week after that should have been vegas, but if i know juneau, then i'm pretty sure we all know what happened with that.

jack has it easy. all work and no play just makes him a dull boy. all work and no play makes val a sad girl who thinks about things buried and gone.

sometimes your hand is held in a way that is so perfect that even if you don't believe in soulmates, you can concede that at the very least maybe hands have them. sometimes your heart is a taut cord stetched thin and tight like a tripwire. there are moments when you just want to lay bereft on the carpet and wonder why they had to say the words so soon. sometimes you don't say anything because it will reveal too much or not enough of the things exploding inside of you and then that silence drifts into the world of things that could have been different. sometimes you feel like an atom splitting apart right there in the middle of your living room and perhaps pangea was only a nice idea.

sometimes you just have to make the right decisions, even when they hurt and are difficult. especially when they are difficult.

“You never give away your heart; you lend it from time to time. If it were not so, how could we take it back without asking?” -j.w.

fiction drives me

“…in everybody’s life there’s a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can’t go forward any more. And when we reach that point all we can do is quietly accept the fact. That’s how we survive.” ~kafka on the shore, haruki murakami

in yakutat for the week, making matches, making magic.

subscribed to writer magazine. maybe i'll get that short story published. or maybe i'll just end up with a bunch of rejection letters and be blackballed from literary circles because i sent my manuscript with a funny note that says, "I know where you live, haha."*

my new reading goal is to read something from each nobel laureate for literature. working on "penguin island" by anatole france and "narcissus and goldmund" by herman hesse. by working on, i mean they've been haphazardly flung somewhere in my room, and i'll find them 2 months later covered in mold and hair.

*Arrested Development Season 3. Let's get this awesome show renewed people!

I'm so money

i've mentioned this weird phenomenon before, but extended residence in juneau lends itself to tunnel vision. it's not even as if it's a rural community like yakutat with a population of 600 on a good season. but juneau has basically 3 areas: downtown/douglas, the valley, and out the road. only about 10% of the population live in downtown/douglas. i live, work, socialize and drink all in downtown, and the average area i probably cover in a day encompasses 5 blocks. that's it. it's easy to forget there's a world existing outside of that, with flashy entertainment and millions of people and just as many distractions. well duh, val, welcome to the strip.

not that i was freaking out - that came later, when we got to dinner at margaritaville: a jimmy buffet-themed restaurant replete with costumed men on stilts creating animal balloon hats, cocktail waitresses doubling as mermaids who spontaneously dive into a pool of tequila then contort on hooks hanging from the ceiling, and the requisite constant whistling, clapping, and hollering that must occur in any garrishly designed fun-nery. but these people didn't just invite you to have fun. they wanted to shove it in your face and then take a picture so you'd never, ever forget it.

after the most overstimulated dinner i've ever had, i went with some coworkers to gamble at the venetian. we all had different desires - roullette, slots, pai gao. i headed for the poker room to find me a game of texas hold 'em.

i have played poker a number of times but never in vegas although my friends and i used to drive there when i lived in los angeles. i love the game, and i play with friends sometimes; i even tried it online recently. but poker in vegas for me is like sitting at the adults table on thanksgiving. oh you might have told fart jokes with your pals at the kiddy table and thrown some mashed potatoes around and that's all fun and good, but after awhile you look at the grownups and you want to be there. you want to graduate. you want to arrive.

so there i am, vegas poker novice, intimidated as all get-out. hardened players are staring at me, sizing me up, i am the only female, and i am the only one under 30. for the first 10 rounds my hands were visibly shaking; i broke every damn table etiquette rule. i got yelled at for picking up my cards to look at them, i didn't know how to bet or raise properly on a limit game, i forgot to tip the dealer after my first (lucky) win. but i was resolved to show myself i could do it. i could hang with the big boys.

in less than an hour, i tripled my money. my coworkers were telling me to walk away. but gambling can't be just about the money; it would mean too much. you'd get too conservative and you can't win if you don't play, or you'd get emotional and start making poor decisions left and right. you might as well not play at all or start throwing your chips at people like confetti. i just like card games, so i said no, i'm having a blast, i'll play a couple more.

*game show error buzzer noise here*

on my first hand back, i almost halved my stack. this dude and i got in a raising war, and i could feel my pride chemicals blocking my smart cells from folding. i had a two pair damnit: queens and 7s. but he also had two pair - with fucking kings. that loss got my goat so badly i almost went to an atm to withdraw $100 just so i could raise him more next time. see what i mean about playing with your emotions?? if it weren't for my coworker coming to get me 15 minutes later, i'd be at that table still.

(end of story: i left with double my startup and the giddy feeling that i held my own with poker regulars. back to my rainy bubble, i.e. home, tomorrow night.)

you're so money

vegas baby, vegas. the hotel is downtown, but it still rocks. i, unfortunately, do not. it's a little past 7pm, and i'm in my room ready to crash while other, much more fun conference-goers are dancing at pirahna nightclub or ogling strippers at...well, the strip. i thought i might go for a night dip at the pool outside, but i'm so tired i'm afraid i would just slink to the bottom in unguarded exhaustion and drown.

emily (coworker): there are so many wedding chapels here! isn't that wild??
me: i'm gonna ply you with nighttime sudafed and marry you later.
emily: hahahaha. wait, what?
me: nothing, nothing.

gourmet alaska?

tomorrow we have a major donor and partner organization recognition event. the board decided us lowly employees would provide the fare, and they made it an international theme to boot so no cincinnati skyline chili from a can. (speaking of which, any ohioans out there want to mail me some?? i will pay good money.) i decided i'd cook lumpia shanghai, or filipino egg rolls. now, it's not very fancy, and i don't want it look lackluster around the raspberry tarts and sushi and bruschetta. so i think i will make it more colorful and put shredded carrots and maybe zucchini inside with the meat and serve it with two sauces: soy sauce + lemon juice and a fiery sweet + sour sauce (simple syrup, garlic, habanero juice, red pepper flakes, and orange zest or peels). i could probably dress up the presentation with some orange slices or leaves or artsy sprigs and voila, instant gourmet filipino, which we are NOT known for. this is what it typically looks like:

Bowl for Kids Sake

I'm smiling so big because I just drank 3 Red Bulls and 2 coffees (I worked over a 12 hour shift.)


Our team was called The "Big" Wigs because all of us are Bigs (or pending), and we were supposed to be wearing wigs too, but obviously, I am the only one who wanted to bring it back to 1966.

this month is one long day

the days are better, the nights are still so lonely
-Train

I facilitated my second high school retreat last Thurs-Fri, and its theme was Diversity and Conflict Resolution. It was surprisingly more subdued than the first one about healthy relationships, despite a number of them who make regular racist or sexist remarks, so it was a pleasant and less stressful experience than expected. My biggest problem actually came from my co-facilitator who was questionably appropriate for the job, considering he taught the kids that it was okay to make discriminatory comments/jokes as long as they were told to friends who understood that intent wasn't serious. And he dropped the "n" word on occasion because he assumed a) if it ends with -a instead of -er, it's cool and b) as a white frat boy in Juneau, he felt himself an exception to white frat boys down south who would get their asses kicked for using that lingo in the wrong place with the wrong crowd. I also presented on Filipino heritage and discrimination in Juneau and made sure to highlight that Asians don't belong to one homogenous culture, typically viewed as having Chinese and Japanese traits. In the Philippines alone, there are 156 languages spoken--not counting English or Spanish.

..I'm still struggling with my grandmother's illness and precarious situation. I don't talk much about it to people because I keep the dearest things silent, and I tend to withdraw from "whining". I don't think anyone really understands how miserable I've been about it, even my own family. I practically slept from 7pm Friday to Sunday noon. I skipped out on going tubing and a CPR training. I missed my roommate's opera and seeing the Northern Lights. I worry that people think I'm being lazy or purposefully anti-social. But I should stop worrying about what other people think; there are enough, larger concerns.

...I used to count the days, but I don't anymore. They feel less and less disparate. I wake up and two days have passed. I wake up and only 2 hours have. I wake up, and I'm still here and not where I should be, and the ache from this stretches indiscriminately from one moment to the next. He asks me every other morning if I'm feeling any better, and my answer has been, "It comes and goes." But that's not really true. It's always there; it's just my ability to mask it that fluctuates.

why i don't want to be responsible for teaching kids about life

Kid #1: My classmate, Sam, said a curse word today.
Me: Why?
Kid #1: He said it to someone else in the class.
Teen: What was the word? (Which I instantly realized was not very smart of her to encourage a child to repeat profanity, but at that point, it’d been asked, and sometimes taking your hands off the handlebars is funny.)
Kid #2: She can’t SAY it!
Me: Alright, what letter does it start with? (Okay, I too easily fall into my role of provocateur)
Kid #1: “F”
Me & Teen: What?!?
Kid #2: No, no! He didn’t say THAT word!

Everyone older than 10 years old is looking confused because we could not think of another bad word that started with F besides the f-bomb.
Kid #1: It’s another word for “fat”.
Now we are super perplexed and look at each other for reassurance that we are a solidarity in ignorance.
Kid #2: F-A…. G.

The kids start laughing uproariously, and the teen and I are dead staring at each other in mirthful surprise because we don’t know what to make of these kids who think the synonym for fat is a derogatory term for gays. We’re sending telepathic morse codes. Should we tell them what fag means?

Hypothetical Scenario:
Me: F-A-G doesn't mean fat. It's a bad word for someone who likes someone else of the same gender.
Kid #1: What's gender?
Me: The sex you identify with. Like male or female.
Kids: (pieces of the complicated world falling more into place) Ohhh.
The next day... my phone rings at work.
Enraged parent: Why were you discussing sex with my 5th grade child??!
Me: Fuck.

So should we let them keep assuming? But what if they want to be mean one day and call someone fat and use the wrong word like Sam did? It would be a whole class of confused kids. Then the 16 year old girl and I start laughing because we don't know what to think or do in this bizarre situation and neither of us are parents and want to have to deal with explaining this, and the kids laugh some more because they’re just pleased we finally got it.

So much for miles of untouched sandy beaches or surfing or enjoying breathtaking ocean sunsets. The Yakutat trip was a whirlwind of activity; I barely had time to breathe let alone enjoy the environment. But it was really successful, and the matches are about as perfect as we could get them. My favorite part was asking this kid what type of Big he wanted, and he replied: “Unannoying, cool, has a good 4 wheeler, is good at stuff…. Believes in vampires, protects me from nightmares… and… is… 14 years old.” Can’t say the boy doesn’t know what he wants.


People are still trickling out of Juneau. Jo left yesterday, as did Laura. R-E departed today. And Seamus flew out Tuesday night when I arrived. At the airport, I was this close to leaving with him, but the ticket agent laughed at me and said it would cost $300. With another job I would have done it, but the one I got pays me in stickers and leftover bagels.

Got Big?

Today I was reminded of how much I love my position here. Interviewing all the potential volunteers and hearing their sincere motivations, their visions of youth services, their desire to truly make a much-needed impact in these communities, energizes and encourages me. I just feel so uplifted to match kids with these great people who will let them know, yes, I acknowledge you as a person and will listen to you and no matter what the rest of your life looks like, you can count on me to be here, just for you, every week. Come to think of it, I think that sounds like a good idea to have for everyone, not just children.

It's 8:00, and I have a headache. Why? Because I'm still at work. I suppose I could go home already, but that's the thing about not having a house-sit anymore with its cable TV, equally heated rooms, cozy couches, and cute little Pomeranians to terrorize for fun. Now, I'd go home, still have a headache, and be cold and bored witless. Maybe I'd peruse People magazine listlessly or eat some chocolate and wait for people to come home or drop by, which usually doesn't happen until past 9 anyway and then there's always the good chance they're throwing rocks at our windows scaring the living bejeezus out of us.

Anyway, I have a lot of things to do for the Yakutat trip this Sunday. Everyone's busy so I've gotten the bulk of the workload, which is great really, I love work, and I deal best under pressure. I get stressed when I have nothing to do except pick my butt and catch up on Homestar Runner emails or play Yahoo euchre. Today, I looked at my to-do list which involved a plethora of important errands in different locations but under the same time slots, and instead of panicking, I grinned broadly and set to what I do best--multitasking. I even wrote a press release on some Post-It notes while I was waiting for my Little Sister's class to return from recess. Anyone who says they're too busy to volunteer isn't that resourceful. Even the Lt. Governor of Juneau is a Big Brother.

So I'm also spearheading the planning of a reception in Yakutat. My sister says I sound like the Daughters of the American Revolution because I'm organizing this little soirée. But with me at the helm, it's more like 7-layer dip and cheese curls than canapes and cucumber finger sandwiches.

"It is impossible to walk rapidly and be unhappy."

my title's a quote from Howard Murray. New friends often comment on the speed of my walk, and Seamus says he has to gallop just to keep up with me. The past two days, I facilitated at a retreat for a high school class I'm familiar with, and I slowed my step. I walked with my group of kids--to the cabins, to the bathrooms, in the dark, in freezing weather. I kept stride with their carefree leaps or despondent shuffling but wherever they needed me to go with them, I went, and I went on whatever pace they set.

There was a sharing circle at the end of the first evening, and we gathered around in sleeping bags and pajamas, and the lights were off and 4 candles burned in the middle of the lodge. Everyone was invited to take turns and speak of anything on their mind, and on my first turn, I told them: "I know a few of you a little bit and most of you not at all. But that's okay because as we learned earlier, it takes trust to build emotional intimacy. And many of you have gone through a lot of pain and horrible things, and I'm no exception. I used to be a completely different person from the one sitting here with you today. So I just want to say that I extend a sincere, open invitation for anyone to come talk to me anytime, and I promise to listen, at the very least, and we can both work on trusting together." I meant every word of it but I was unsure if it came across too cheesy or if people had already fallen asleep or were too busy making out but then it was this kid's turn, and he acts tough and often teases me and hadn't participated much in the retreat so far, and with a shaky voice he began, "I just want to start out by saying thank you... to Valorie, for helping me with some of my problems. I know we haven't known each other that long but I've told her... some things and she's listened and helped me a lot." He continued to share a very personal, touching story, and around the circle were many more tellings of suffering and broken trust and being made to feel so, so low that everything seems so big and unreachable. I know this story by heart. I could have finished their sentences. On my second turn, I could have tried telling them what to do or how to ache less, to see the forest from the trees. But many times, what we really need more than answers are people who truly care about our problems, who are dependable, so that even when you're at that low with everything pressing down upon you, there is someone out there that makes you feel you could still stand up. My knowledge is limited, but my empathy embraced the entire room.

my after-school special...buddy

I really need to stop baiting people for my own amusement. They enter the conversation innocently, and I start asking weirder and weirder questions, probing and seeing where their limits are. Today, I was speaking with the school janitor, and we were discussing Sodom and Gomorrah. Because that’s the kind of icebreaker I like to start with when getting to know complete strangers.

Him: They were doing bad things with animals. And to each other, like brother and sister, stuff that’s supposed to be taboo.
Me: Really, what sort of bad things?
Him: You know what.
Me: No, I don’t.
Him: Well that's where they got the word sodomy from you know. (I did.)
Me: Is that also where they got gonorrhea?
(Pause. My officemate is giving me shut-up looks, and I ignore her.)Him: Well, I think people are just people. There are bad people and good people.
Me: What makes a bad person?
Him: Hurting other people.
Me: Like… killing someone?
Him: (laughing) Yes, that constitutes being bad.
Me: What about killing in self defense? Does that make someone bad?
Him: … The Bible says you should protect your family.
Me: Oh okay. So what if someone told a “Yo Mama” joke?
Him: (not laughing) I’ve heard those jokes. They’re not very nice. But you shouldn’t take someone’s life over it. You just tell them that’s wrong.
Me: I see… So, you’re Christian?
Him: I trust Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior, yes. But I don’t try to ram it down anybody’s throat. Some people don’t realize that doesn’t work. Same thing with those Moslems (he says it mos-lems) blowing us up and putting airplanes in buildings. They’re not going to turn is into Moslems; it’s just gonna make us mad! I know what Rome did to those Moslems, way back in those Crusades, weren’t very nice. Rome wanted to set up their church in Jerusalem, and it didn’t happen. People make mistakes and hopefully we just learn from them. Some people are really mean.
…
Him: In China, they throw kids away a lot.
Me: (looking up from keyboard hoping he doesn’t realize I’m typing exactly what he’s saying) Wait, what do they do in China???
Him: They throw their kids away. And the missionaries would take care of the kids that were thrown away, and they started doing things the way that Jesus did it. Not like ‘do things my way or I’m gonna blow you up’. The Spirit’s gonna go where it’s gonna go, and you can’t do nothing about it.

At this point, I sort of wanted to ask him what he thought about other things like hell and who goes there and if he thinks the shroud of Turin was really Da Vinci. But it was past 5 so I just told him my Spirit was heading to the bar to get some Sodom if you know what I mean, and what’re ya gonna do?

the edges of your vision are rimmed in gold

Now the fall is here again
You can't begin to give in
It's all over
When the snows come rolling through
You're rolling too with some new lover
Will you think of times you've told me
That you knew the reason
Why we had to each be lonely
It was just the season

My boss is awesome. He knows when I’ve been too lazy to pack lunch and too broke to buy it because I stay at my computer through lunch break playing Minesweeper without enthusiasm. Today I was munching on my second bag of potato chips from the office variety pack. I am a sucker for the Cheetos and cheese Doritos. My coworkers can tell when I’ve used their desk because when they return, there’s my evidence piled in the trash bin. So today--a reprieve from the fatty snack that will lead to my trans-fat demise! He throws me a Silverbow bag, and I catch it as if it were manna from the heavens. Inside are a bagel swirled orange and black and a raspberry crumble cake. Yay for holiday-inspired nourishment!

He’s also just arrived from a business trip to Yakutat, where he did a community assessment in preparation for a new school program launching. This morning, he walks by my office door and says, “I got something for you.” He chucks a maroon t-shirt at me. It’s from Icy Waves, a surf shop there. He is so thoughtful! I just hope he doesn’t want to ever surprise me with an Alaskan ulu seeing as he likes to give his gifts by winging them at people.

… The thought of a secret leaves me smiling today. Some coincidences simply render me speechless ...

Capital Chat

This morning, 3 other staff members and I spoke about our school-based program on KINY's "Capital Chat", hosted by Chris Burns. The show was from around 8:30 to 9am. I've never been in a radio station before, so it was really exciting for me, but one of my coworkers, Betsy, was just a pro. She's a real mover and shaker. I didn't expect to pipe in much, if at all, but Chris pointedly asked me questions a number of times so I talked about being a new Alaskan transplant (go Bearcats!) and how I love Juneau now and no, the rain doesn't quite bother me, but the low-hanging clouds sometimes do. Afterward, I took some pictures with him, and another radio employee passed by and remarked, "Well, you don't have to ask her to smile, do you? She's got a movie star smile." I told him, "It's not so pretty when I'm laughing; I look like I'm about to eat someone." Which is true.

I don't think I helped my reputation today

Today's slightly embarrassing moment: I left my house this morning headed for the high school to attend the teachers' breakfast. Wanting to make a good impression, and being a bit rushed, I quickly donned black boots--my closest pair of nice work shoes, but the heels click loudly when I walk in them. So I take a shortcut I know through Cope Park and Juneau's historic cemetery. Imagine this hushed, picturesque graveyard with a small morning memorial service going on, people with their heads bowed in prayer, and here I come around the corner clippityclop, clippityclopping along on the rock pathway. On one hand, I felt like an idiot. On the other, I couldn't be late. Well by the time I reach the school, I've worked up a sweat (which on me, is never a sexy sheen, it is like obviously sweaty and gross), and my boots are covered in grass, dew, and mud. So much for trying to look professional.

Today's photo opportunity: Last weekend, I volunteered for a benefit concert which was donating half of its profit to us and half to Red Cross. Today, the concert organizer came over to take pictures of him handing us the checks. My boss said he's always in the paper so I should stand in instead.

I was going to include a picture of that, but I looked fat so here's a skinnier version of me wearing exactly the same thing I am wearing today except this was taken 2 years and 10 pounds ago. Oh and I'm holding a check for $1100 instead of a rum and coke with a twist. Upgrade!

So whenever that does run in the Juneau Empire and/or Capital Weekly, a) that will be the 2nd time in a month that my mug's graced the local pages and b) I'm going to earn a reputation for being an attention hog. Well...either that or the rude import who has no etiquette for sacred death rituals.

Caterpillars and Missed Flights and Whales, Oh my!

We had a table set up for Mendenmall's Back-to-School Event today from 10-2, and we drew very low interest--mostly (in my opinion) because right across from us was a blow-up giant caterpillar playland for kids. You can fill out boring paperwork... or jump in this!!! We didn't stand a chance.
I was really excited to wake up to today since my sister and her husband are arriving. But then she calls me, and they had missed their flight from Seattle to Juneau so instead of seeing her for dinner, they won't even arrive until 10p.m. Shucks.
That's okay since the 3 of us are booked for a whale-watching tour tomorrow! I've been really excited about it for over a month now, but then I read this crazy "whale of a tale"! Which, besides sorta freaking me out, serves to remind me how very, very far away from Cincinnati I am, where the closest thing to a beach is the polluted Ohio River, and the nearest thing to a killer whale might be the mutated catfish who get angry when you swim in their toxic watering hole.