It's a Virus

When the virus of restlessness begins to take possession of a wayward man, and the road away from Here seems broad and straight and sweet, the victim must first find in himself a good and sufficient reason for going. This to the practical bum is not difficult. He has a built-in garden of reasons to choose from. --John Steinbeck

I'm rereading Travels with Charley. What a GREAT BOOK! If you have not read it, go out and buy a copy RIGHT NOW! Do it!

I obviously made it back from the field alive. I learned a lot of great things on this trip...like Margarita is the BEST fish buddy ever I suckered her into agreeing to the trip with this email:

Do you long to feel the wind in your hair, or perhaps to hit the open road with nothing but a pair of sunglasses and a full tank of gas? Or perhaps you love nature, watching sunsets and frolicking through salt marshes...

It's your lucky day! Right now you can sign up to go on an all-expense-paid tour of the Eastern Seaboard! (I hear the trees are absolutely beautiful this time of year).

We'll be stopping in picturesque Maine, Rhode Island and New Jersey.

Write back for more details...

Also, I stopped in Baltimore to see Anna. She's so freeking awesome, and how grown up we are now, 5 years later.

I learned that cheetos keep you awake when you're sleepy and driving and that dead horseshoe crabs smell REALLY bad when you leave them in a hot car.

I learned that South of the Border has a cheap and IMPOSSIBLY CREEPY hotel and that in Virginia they're serious about their speed limits. Like $140 serious.

I did not, however, learn about hurricanes. We missed Hurricane Earl completely.

Stay tuned, I'm going to keep plugging through the Ireland blogs, and this weekend I'm going to post some AWESOME videos from the field.

You run, you slide...

I had a very nice birthday. No Crocodile Mile, but I did find a Bakugan Slip n Slide all balled up behind some sad looking toys at the Ross. The people at target looked at me cross eyed when I asked for a slip n' slide...






In other news, I'm Racing Hurricane Earl to Maine tomorrow! Bet people, bets! Place your bets!

What I'm doing for my birthday

I'm going to try my best to find one of these. Something tells me it won't be quite the same as it was when I was 8. But then again, even when I was 8 it wasn't as magical as the commercial.

We're gonna set it up in the back yard and slide away. Let me be specific, we're gonna put the end of the slide AWAY from the giant cactus...

Ireland, When Animals aggressively-demand-attention edition

Dingle Way, Day 1
2 July 2010

Fred and I got up early, left our hostel in Dublin and hopped on the bus to Limerick at the Busarus. That's the Irish word for Bus Station I guess. I like to say it in my head like this "Bus R Us" but that's not right.

I quickly learned that Irish busses are among the most sinister car-sick-inducing torture devices in the world. The seats are very tall and so it's impossible to see out the front window from any seat besides the very front. Irish roads are narrow and windy. Irish bus drivers seem to enjoy playing Billy Joel at very loud volumes. I knew I wasn't going to make it if I stayed in the back, so I had to move right up to the front. Right up there, next to the chatty old people who cross themselves whenever they pass a church, and there are a lot, so it's more like an episode of Sit-and Be-Fit than a calm, silent, still bus ride.

And I think I might die.

For 6 hours I focused on not puking, or trying to devise a contingency plan if I do. I decided that in the event of an unexpected voiding of my stomach I would try to aim it for the space next to the door, then at least they could hose it out easily.

Luckily, we made it to Limerick and then to Tralee (which is pronounced Truhhh-lee, not TRAY lee) without any vomiting. From Tralee we got on another bus which we thought was going to take us to Camp. But it didn't. Fred told me "doesn't that sign say Camp? Shouldn't we get off? Maybe you should tell the driver we want off." I said "Relax Fred, calm down. The bus will stop and then we'll get off. We'll know when we're there." But I was wrong. The bus did not stop. In Ireland, you must jump up and down or wave or holler to signal your intention to get off the bus, wherever. Stops listed on the schedule are just suggestions. When we realized that we'd driven past Camp we started to get anxious. When the next-town-looking place rolled around we stood up, and sure enough the bus stopped and let us out.

In Annascaul. This not where we planned on being. We meant to walk from Camp counter clockwise around the peninsula. Now we're forced to go Clockwise.

At least we've finally made it to Dingle.

The first thing I noticed about Dingle, is that it is cold and windy. It's also much more mountainous than I expected. From the map, from home, Ireland looked flat-ish. 950 m Mountains are not really mountains, or are they? They are. Especially when they grow directly from sea level.

I know that I have underestimated this place. We stopped in a small park with the statue of some antarctic explorer. Tom Crean. He went with Shackelton and stuff...and he's from Annascaul. Fred and I hadn't eaten since breakfast and now it's 3 pm and we need to hike at least 6 miles, preferably twelve before we sleep. I pulled out a loaf of soda bread, a chunk of cheese and began to chow down, whilst contemplating Fred's "10 pound more awesome" bag.

I wonder if he can really make it 90 miles with all that Stuff. Who brings an iPad backpacking, anyway?

After we finished eating we cinched up our bags and headed off. Over a bridge, across a road and then Up. We walked up for quite a ways, until there was no more Up and then we could see the ocean, and we walked Down for a while. It was warm enough out to walk in just a long sleeved shirt and it wasn't raining.

So Far So Good.

We came across a beautiful bouldery-beach with a castle.




Thanks Ireland, that'll do nicely.

Then, there was more up. We were mainly walking on narrow farm roads, which was not very exciting at all. There were nettles and whoever was in the back was in charge of hollering "Car!" so that we could dive, quickly, into a ditch or press ourselves up against the nearest nettle-infested garden wall. And it was a windy day, so there were lots of false alarms. We did manage to entertain ourselves though, playing with the local fauna--farm dogs--and arguing about whether Cromwell built the castle or knocked over the castle.




The sheep dogs in Ireland are very friendly. They are generally allowed to roam and seem to generally stay where they're supposed to. More than a few times we were followed for quite-a-ways by friendly dogs. This is the first one we encountered. In DunQuin we were followed all the way home from the pub by a dog. On the other side of Mt. Brandon we were followed for about a mile by a dog who liked to play 'fetch' with rocks that we kicked in front of us, until someone drove by in a car and stuck their head out the window "Bella! Come on!" and the dog turned around and trotted after the car.



After about 6 miles, we spied a gas station. Since I refused, on principle, to pay 10 Euros for white gas in Dublin we decided to just fill the fuel bottle with gasoline at the first opportunity. So we stopped at a gas station that backed up to a really nice canyon that was bridged by an old rail-road viaduct. I filled up the fuel bottle and went inside to pay the 45 cent bill. The man behind the counter looked at me funny and said "Very small car?" I held up my fuel bottle and said "Yes" I bought a postcard and a candy bar and went back outside to see what Fred was up to.

He was lounging against his 10-pounds-more-awesome bag with the nastyiest-pus-ridden-flea bag tom cat I've ever seen in his lap.






I loaded up the fuel bottle and looked at the map for a bit. "Fred, how much further do you want to walk?" I was nervous about where we'd stay, and since there was 6 more miles to Dingle Town I didn't think we'd make it before it got dark.

I convinced Fred to go inside and ask the man behind the counter if there was any place we could stay around Lispole (where we were). Fred came back out with a bottle of water and the message that Dingle Town was the closest place with accommodations. "Did you ask about camping, or bed and breakfasts?" He said he didn't know and I shook my head. It was already 7 and I didn't think we were going to make it to Dingle. I went back into the shop myself to ask the man specifically about camping. I was a little embarrassed because by this time we'd been hanging around in his parking lot, petting that nasty-pus-ridden-flea-bag cat for like 15 minutes. "Do you know anywhere we can camp around here? I don't think we can walk all the way to Dingle Town tonight" The man didn't even pause for a second before he said "Sure, camp across the way in my field. There are no animals in there and the electric fence is off". Of course, it took a few iterations to get the message across--so thick was his accent, or my brain.

Awesome! Our first experience with Irish hospitality. It was easy. The man showed us his field and we set up our tents in a flat spot behind a nice church.





We had a quick dinner. Though we were tired we walked a mile down the road to the nearest pub. The man behind the counter was probably about 80 and by the looks of the decor, was named Tom and had been running the place since the 40s, or whenever he stopped playing rugby on his local team (Go Kerry!). We were the only people in the place. We tried to have a conversation with the old man about the vuvuzelas on the TV (world cup was on) but again, the thick Irish accent was hard for us to get through. The man was really lovely though, and we went and played a game of pool on a tiny pool table (or was it a snooker table?) before we headed back out. By this time it was nearing 9:30 and we toddled back to our tents. It was still light.

Turns out, it never gets dark in Ireland.

They Finally Got it Right

I went to the police station this morning to get a copy of the police report from when my car was broken into. I called them first, to see if maybe they'd fax it to me--even though I'm uncomfortable with faxing (that's sooo 1996, who DOES that anymore? Like, use the e-mail), because I'm even more uncomfortable wiht driving down town. I always get lost or stuck waiting for a drawbridge, or I go into the wrong parking garage and end up paying $8,000 to park because no one will validate my parking. Not even if I say "But those garages were so CONFUSING! Someone should really put a sign up." Or maybe, Especially if I say that.

But the records unit only faxes things if you're an official government place. I thought about it for a second but decided to not press my luck by trying to convince the woman on the phone that I was very very official, you know 'cause I go to grad school and I have an extension and an office and I work in a place with Departments. I decided to just drive myself downtown and deal with traffic and stop lights and parking lots. I needed to go to the bank anyway.


I was pleasantly surprised that it was easy to get downtown. I was, however, disappointed to find out that the Police Station doesn't look ANYTHING like it does on Dexter and I didn't see anyone famous there. It was easy to get the report. The lady behind the counter was nice to me and it only cost $4. Easy.

I went back to school and wrote a very nice letter to AT&T along with the police report (that says clearly that the "victim" of the burgulary was unfortunately out of the country in South Africa at the time of the crime). Before I headed down to the fax machine, I checked my email and noticed that AT&T had already resolved my case and reversed the international roaming charges. But I faxed the documents anyway--because I drove DOWNTOWN.

Whoever I talked to on the phone on Saturday must have written a really detailed (and sad sounding) report about the theft of my cell-phone because I thought it was going to take a lot longer, and more evidence, to get them to take all that money off my bill.

Thanks AT&T!

Dear AT&T,

You finally made me proud, thank you. I'm willing to forget about the time that you told me "Sure, your account is all taken care of...you don't owe us anything else" before I moved to Switzerland. Then you turned me into collections for a bill that I didn't know anything about. I'm willing to forget about the time I didn't have internet for a month, because someone forgot to flip the 'switch' on your end, but I paid for service anyway. All of those past abuses I can gladly get over now, because you've removed the $800 of international roaming charges from my account.

Sincerely,

ME.

Out of Africa

Hi Everyone. I'm back. After a really really long plane ride yesterday (20 hours in the air) we landed safely in Miami and even got our luggage back. The best part is that customs didn't inspect the 20 thousand vuvuzelas we brought back with us. I'm pretty sure there's an import limit on those things. Aren't they considered weapons of mass annoyance or something?

First thing I did when I got home was look around for my phone, you know to call my mother and tell her I was alive. No phone. No phone anywhere. Hummm where could it be, I wondered. And then, I knew it. I knew where it was--it was in my car. The car that was broken into the day that I left for Africa. Which meant that my phone was probably stolen. I logged into my account and sure enough, there's an $800 phone bill and my account has been suspended. AWESOME.

What a nice welcome home. If you're waiting for a call from me it's going to be a few days before I get my new phone. Then, Laura went to South Miami for some bike team meeting and on the way back she got a flat tire. She took the car to a tire place and I guess since the nail was in the tread they couldn't repair it.

I dealt with all that nonsense, unpacked my bag and promptly fell asleep on the couch at about 6pm.

Replacement phone: $85.
New tire: $85.
Being home, priceless.

And now for your viewing pleasure:

South African children sing their hearts out.

Leaving Kruger

We're on our way out of Kruger today. We had time for one last early morning game drive. We saw an amazing sunrise from the top of a little granite bald.

We saw a rhino crossing the road. I don't know why the rhino crossed the road but I think it had something to do with the other side.

Rock-opottamus, Rock-a-noceros, and Tree-raffe

PHOTOESSAY!!!!

Yesterday we drove from Shingwedzi to Skukuza. That was a very long drive--you can only go ~30mph in the park--and uncomfortable. A safari truck is really like a pickup with benches in the back, it can be very windy and dusty at even just 30mph. It took us about 8 hours, but because we weren't in a hurry we spent a lot of time spotting game and stopping a lot. Inside the park there are lots of these little villages called Rest Camps. Some are big--Skukuza has an airport and a school and a bunch of restaurants and a cricket and soccer field, it's a little city. Some are small--Shingwedzi had only a little restaurant and gift shop and guest houses. I think the South African candy and snacks are really interesting. One of my hobbies, after all, is sampling foreign candy. I'm doing a pretty good job of it, too! I also tried some wild buffalo jerkey. It was delicious, and free range.

We stopped at a very small elephant museum inside one of the rest camps. This is how big I would be next to an elephant. But, I don't walk up to real elephants because they are dangerous.

This is a big baobab tree. It is not dangerous, but it is very big. Bigger than an elephant even.
This is a bushbok, it is not dangerous and I could walk right up next to it. This is in the same rest camp that has the elephant museum.
These are blue wildebeast. I think they might be my favorite animals here. Every time I see them they're bucking all over and kicking and generally acting ornery. See the one in the middle? He's mid-buck. These wild-lifes are easy to spot, but sometimes when you're looking so hard for hours on end..every rock or stump or tree looks like an animal.

Can you find the animal in this picture?
That's an actual rhinoceros. About halfway through our drive we had a few false alarms when HA kept telling the driver to "stop, backup, I saw something" only to discover that it was a stump or rock masquerading as an animal. So then we had a nice game of naming every stick, rock or tree as a new form of wild game.
Here's a list we came up with:

Rock-opotttamus
Rock-a-nocerous
Tree-raffe
Stick-retary Bird
Elestump
Rock-allo

It was a long day...ok?


Eventually we made it to Skukuza. Here's the view from my back porch. AWESOME! That's a little river down there and so far we've seen a heard of elephants and a hyena there.


When we were relaxing with beers last night a couple of us climbed up to sit with our legs dangling over that wall. I was talking to Low, one of the South African students, about Apartheid. It was really interesting to hear him talk about it. I don't think I'll repeat much here, but my take on it is that the country still has some growing pains. I'm sure that doesn't surprise anyone to hear. Anyway about 20 minutes into this he put his hand out in front of me and said "Do you hear that?" I said "huh? whaaaaaaa?" He said "Shhh! It's a hyena!" Sure enough creeping out from behind that tree there was a baby hyena. He was a lot cuter than I thought he would be--because everything I know about Africa, I learned from the Lion King--he had these cute little round ears and fluffy coat. Still, I was scared. I don't think we could have gotten off that wall faster if we had been pushed. "They don't jump do they? Low, do they JUMP?! because I've seen coyotes jump and this wall isn't high.." He stopped me "no, they don't jump" Ok ok, so the hyena came right up to the base of the wall, tail tucked between his legs, and gave us a good look before he slunk away. Oh, and they really do laugh.

Is there coffee yet?

It's 5:20 in the morning and we're off to the field now. tired, tired. saw lions leopards elephants giraffes bush babies and a very very close hyena yesterday. We saw the whole big 5 (elephant, lion, leopard, buffalo and rhino) in one day which is rare, apparently. They're called the Big 5 because they're very dangerous. "If you don't kill them, they'll kill you" or something. Or, if you don't get too close to them or shoot them with a gun they'll leave you alone.

We went to the golf club at Skukuza and watched a rugby game and enjoyed some drunk-people watching. Now i'm TIRED. Tired Tired.

But now, off to the field to dig up some dirt and label some tubes! Hurrah!

Kruger 1

Greetings from Kruger National Park!

For the past two days we've been enjoying game drives and delicious meals prepared by our camp cook with light field work in between. This is our second night at the Shingwedzi Research Camp and Boy! do I find the accommodations lovely. I just took a nice hot shower, and the water pressure was excellent. It was well deserved too, I had the dust of two days in the back of a safari truck settling in my ear canals. I dug that stuff out with a wash cloth. I think I saw a potato come out too. That's one thing I was not prepared for--the amount of dust. As soon as we turned off the paved road onto the dirt road that took us to our field site it started to sift in and immediately got into our teeth, eyes, and noses. Sherwin rode with his sweatshirt up over his nose to keep the dust out. I think I may have inhaled some parasites. The dust is really fine and infiltrates everything.

I've seen quite a few animals. Elephant, Giraffe, Zebra, Wildebeast, Kudu, Buffalo, Ostrich, Brown Snake Eagle, Saddleback Stork, Lily Breasted Roller, Jackal, Tstssebe *or something like that, Steenbok, Impala, Crocodile, Hippos...and some more. They're Everywhere. This place is really awesome. The best part, though, is that we're allowed to get out of our safari vehicle and walk around in the bush--the Afrikaans word is VELD, pronounced 'felt'--which tourists aren't allowed to do. But it's okay because we have a guy with a gun. One of the U. Pretoria students said that KT and I looked just like lion food when we were sitting down in the brush labeling tubes. But, we didn't get eaten by a lion.

When we finished our field work we took a cooler of beer up to the top of an earthen dam and watched the sunset. There were a bunch of hippos that swam up to the edge of the dam and showed off for us. They thrashed their heads around for a bit and made some piggy noises. There were 5 of them and they even lined up in Hungry Hungry Hippo formation, which we all appreciated. The game ranger (the guy who carried the gun all day to protect us from Buffalo and such--we had a semi-close call with a buffalo in the afternoon) said that the hippos swam from all the way across the river just to investigate us--since we were intruders.

We had a campfire after dinner (the wood here is really HARD, as in dense, so we only managed a small campfire, but there was fire...). While we were sitting there watching the veld-TV (as one of the students called it) we heard lots of lions. They said that the lions were close--and they were pretty loud. I guess right outside the fence. Good thing there are fences here... Lions don't sound at all like I expected them to sound. They're not all like "Roar Roar" but more like "croak, low grunt, croak" Maybe those were their eating sounds. Or just really big frogs. Lion Frogs?

Ok, well, it's late here and I need to sleep since we have a LONG game-drive tomorrow from Shingwedzi to Skukuza--something like 7 hours in the back of the safari truck--7 hours in the dust and wind. Next time I come here I'm bringing my ski goggles. Enjoy the pictures.
Game Ranger.
Lion bait.
Ostriches and baby ostriches.
Elephant crossing.
Sunset. That spec in the middle of the water is a hippo walking towards us to say hello. Hippos don't swim, they just walk on the bottom.
That's a hippo there. Two of them actually.

PICTURES! and trip to LESEDI

Today after we lounged around, I mean worked diligently on our lesson plans, we went to Lesedi, which is like a living cultural museum. We were given a tour through some simulated viliges that represented the way each of the five major South African tribes lived. It was really cool. We had a guide who walked us from "village" to "village" and explained the way the people live there--from their house designs to the way they spend their time or the types of food they eat. In the Predi (I think that's how it's spelled) village they let us sample a common food--Mopani worms. KT and RL and I ate one. They were chewy, crunchy, and salty. Yum.

The best part about the tour is that there were two sets of actors (probably 12 total) who would portray the village inhabitants. We'd leave one village and the half a dozen actors from there would leap-frog ahead of us while we visited the next--where a different set of actors was already waiting for us. So, the Zulu spear makers ended up being the xohsa [sic] villagers who sang for us in their Clicky language (that's Nelson Mandela's tribe!)... Sherwin described it as "A really hilarious high school play" It was definitely entertaining and educational.

After the tour, the actors danced for us and then we were served a really delightful dinner. I tried ostrich, crocodile and lots of different types of vegetables.

Here's some pictures from the last few days::

The SMS crew at Pretoria U before our Mini Symposium.
Pretoria University--the Old Art Building. It was a pretty busy campus.

Sherwin and I working hard on our lesson plans.

Zulu gate-keeper.


Pile of Spit-rocks. Apparently it's Zulu tradition to pick up a rock, spit on it and throw it into a big lucky rock pile before you go on a journey. I did it. I found a small rock and liberally applied some spit and hucked it. Most of the spit flew off the rock way before it hit the pile, but I think it still counts.

Zulu lady making a mat. You can tell she's maried because she's wearing a giant red hat. In the olden days they would sew the hat onto the lady's head. No divorce in the Zulu nation.

The besotho [sic!] tribe. They wear these pointy hats because they're mountain people, the hat and their pointy houses remind them of their mountain--the Mountain of the Night.

South Africa 2

Greetings from the Cornerstone. It's South Africa day 2 and so far I'm pretty sure I haven't actually seen South Africa. We've been sequestered in the lodge. All of our meals are prepared special for us and served in the dining room. Eggs to order for breakfast and elegant three-course affairs for lunch and dinner. I don't even know how best to explain this place. It's like a compound--a gated group of buildings. Each building houses a single room and all the doors are left open all the time. It's nice, but kind of chilly because it's winter here. It smells like winter. The air is crisp and smells like wood smoke, and car exhaust, but mostly wood smoke.

Yesterday we went to the University of Pretoria and met with the students who are going to Kruger with us. KT and I gave research talks at a mini-symposium that they organized just for us. Oh boy. I was so glad that they did that. I don't think anyone fell asleep during my talk but there were definitely a lot of eyes glazed over. C'mon guys! It's important!

The University was pretty exciting. There were a lot of students out, hanging out on the lawn, or hanging out having coffee...normal college things. All the buildings were labeled in both English and Afrikaans--which looks a lot like Dutch. Of course, that makes sense because South Africa was colonized by the Dutch.

After we finished our talks, I had a nice lunch of slimy pasta and oily mushrooms at a campus cafe. Yum. From there we went and met with the teachers we're going to working with when we are in the schools in 2 weeks. Then, straight back to the Compound. There's a gas station across the street that we're "allowed" to walk to. I'm going to go check it out now, it'll be about the most exciting thing I've done all day.

Tomorrow we're headed to Kruger and I'm so excited to actually get out and see the country.

South Africa, 1

We made it to Johannesburg with no major incidents. I think this day has lasted like 36 hours and we've seen at least 6 sunrises/sets. Crazy.

The flight to London went well. I sat next to KT and because Cheryl broke her knee we had a whole extra seat to spread out on. I took benedryl and slept through that flight. When we got to London at 6:30 am we had to wait in line for like 40 minutes just to get a bus to travel to a different terminal, then we went through passport check and took a train to our gate--all in all it took us over two hours to get from gate to gate, that was EXHAUSTING. We got to our gate just in time to board for our flight to Africa.

I ended up sitting in an aisle seat next to these two German guys. I fell asleep right when we got on the plane. Two badly behaved German guys. They woke me up less than an hour into the flight to get up, I was pretty cranky but then I decided that I'd better just stay up for the flight so that I could sleep when I got to SA. Good thing I decided to do that because these guys probably drank a whole case of beer (that's 24) between them and at least a half bottle of whiskey. They weren't stupid drunk or rowdy or anything but the were up and down and they talked the WHOLE way. At least it was in German so I didn't have to really know all the stupid stuff they were saying.

They fed us two meals and even though the guy who ordered our tickets didn't ask if anyone needed vegetarian meals--and so they didn't order special meals for me--I was able to ask them on the plane if I could get a special meal and they accommodated me, which was nice. The food was pretty good.

We did have a bit of drama on the plane--besides the antsy Germans--this old lady sitting in the aisle across from me--I say weird because she had this fanny pack and about 4 bags full of stuff and she was wearing leggings under a skirt and hippy sandals and as soon as she sat down she tucked her legs up under her and perched on the seat like a little bird. Then she started taking a bunch of pills from an unmarked bottle. I didn't think it was THAT unusual, they all looked like vitamins to me. But, I did notice that it seemed to take her a long time to get just the right combo out.

Before breakfast they served us drinks and the boys next to me started in right away on the Heinekin, and I did too--because they were and it's FREE. But I felt a bit guilty drinking a beer with my english breakfast so I only had about 1/3 of the can. Anyway, we had our drinks for a good 1/2 hour before they served my breakfast, which was early because I'm special. When I was chowing down I took a second to look up from my grub and noticed that the weird lady across the aisle was finishing off a mini bottle of wine, which seemed like an odd morning choice and it also seemed like she finished it pretty quick.

I was done with my breakfast when they started coming around with the regular breakfasts and the steward was really annoyed when weird-lady dropped the empty wine bottle on her foot. She served the people in the row in front of me and then I think we all noticed at once that weird-lady seemed to be having some sort of seizure. For the next 20 min or so there were 3 flight attendants in the aisle trying to get her to wake up and finding her travel partner (who was elsewhere in the plane). It was really scary and I was thinking "I hope she's okay" and "what if they have to make an emergency stop, we're in BFE". (literally, Egypt or something) Luckily, she came around. They filled out some special paperwork and let her go back to sleep. She slept for like 8 hours. She didn't remember any of it. Turns out she had taken an ambien and that doesn't go well with wine. oops

ok Ive written enough, I'm beat. The hotel we're in is really nice. I'm wearing a bathrobe right now.

Woah! Time Warp!

Here's a quick guide to the past 3 weeks.

1. I returned from Ireland.
2. I worked like crazy for a week.
3. I went to Portland/Newport OR for a week and stayed in the most delightful vacation home in the WORLD. We saw WHALES out of the living room window. Thanks Mom and Dad!
4. I came back to Miami. Worked (am working) until tomorrow--when I leave for South Africa until Aug. 21st.
5. Right now I'm trying to make sense of my desk and check the slides in my talk to make sure they're correct/not offensive(since I have to give 2 talks in SA)

Ahh, and somehow I started a feud with an old-lady-neighbor about the strip of grass I like to walk my dogs on. It's just a three foot wide piece of grass between the sidewalk and the 8 foot black iron fence, a fence which protects a large complex of buildings. This strip of grass and fence and ridiculously large lawn and nice group of buildings happens to be where this old-lady-neighbor lives with HER DOG. Quick story: The past few days on the morning walk, this old lady has been showing up out of no where and yelling at me in spanish. I recognize the word perro, so I know she's talking about my dogs. Also, her body language is very frightening/unfriendly so I know she's telling me to "take my perros and scram" or something.

On Monday she hollered at me all the way from across the fenced-in courtyard, so I couldn't really understand her. I thought that if I stood and looked at her with my signiture "foreign language deer in the headlights" look she would understand that she was not understood and explain it to me better in english. But she didn't so I just kept walking. On Tuesday, she caught me in front of MY fence as I was taking out my recycling. She was standing in the street there talking to some public-works-type-city-type-employee guy who was blocking my car with his big ol' pickup truck. When she saw me she started waving her arms and pointing at me and saying that word again--perro. So I stood, looking dumb and silent, waiting for the public-works-type-city-type-employee guy to explain to me what was going on. But he didn't say anything and he didn't look to concerned about my perros, so I just kept walking.

This morning the old-lady-neighbor blocked my path as Scott and Grant and I were attempting to VIOLATE HER 3 FOOT STRIP OF GRASS with perro caca (which, to all you concerned readers out there I always always always pick up). She started in with her perros and her arm windmills and I started with my "deer in headlights stupid look". She picked up on my facial expressions this time and switched to english. She told me that I was not allowed to "go this way" that I was to "go that way". I said "but I go this way" she said "no you go that way" I said "why? there's no sign that says I can't" she said "It is impossible, the manager doesn't like it" I said "Well, I go this way, you walk your dog on other people's lawns" At which point she told me again that it was impossible and I just walked around her. I think we're fighting now.

I'm pretty sure I'm not doing anything wrong.

30,000 feet

Welcome to the Delta return flight liveblog!


Dear Delta,

So far the conditions have been acceptable. We were served chewy pasta and dry rolls for lunch, ice-cream and soggy cold pizza. My seat back entertainment system keeps crashing. But all is forgiven, Delta, because you have so graciously provided us with free wifi and beer. I will even try to never think about how you said " Didnt i just serve you a childs meal" and looked at me suspiciously when i asked for That beer.

We love you.

Kisses,
Us.

King Johns castle, Limerick

FRED!!!!!!!! IN A CASTLE!!!!!!!!

To camp, by the hard way

We are 3miles out of Camp, Ireland right now.

Three miles to the bus and the end of dingle...all I have to say right now is:

OW OWOW OW OW OW my FEEEEEEET

OMG VK makes the best comics

starring me and lady gaga.

Dingle Way, LIVE!

Let's just say I underestimated Ireland. I had always thought of Ireland as a gentle country, like a warm hug...or a wool sweater on a cold day. Maybe it's the brogue and the Guiness.

We didn't get off the bus in Camp like we planned on Friday. The bus didn't stop and so we ended up getting off in Annascual, so we're doing the peninsula clockwise instead of counter-clockwise like we planned. Day 1 was Annascual to Lispole where we stayed in a field behind a church. Day 2 was Lispole to Rahdeen (I think) where we stayed in someone's backyard. Day 3 was Rahdeen to Dunquin--stayed in a hostel. Day 4 was Dunquin to the foot of Mount Brandon and today we crossed over the shoulder of mount Brandon through a horrific pass and down into Cloghane.

I'm REALLY tired right now so I can't elaborate...more on all that later.

Anyway, Ireland is both kind and cruel. I was right about the Guiness at least--it's awesome over here. I can drain a pint like no one's business for lunch and it helps keep me going.

This hike has been brutal. Today Fred and I were nearly killed crossing over Brandon Mountain. Gale force winds and horizontal rain had us diving for cover in any ditch we saw. It was insane. We came up over the pass and had to cross along a ridge for about a quarter mile. There was cliff on either side and the wind was blowing us towards the ocean. Scariest thing I've ever done. My feet were wet for 10 miles after that and right now, besides smelling like a barn animal, I'm having a very difficult time with the whole walking thing. Need more Guiness.

We're at 54 miles and about 30 more to go, but doing great.

Off to Castlegregory tomorrow.

Found my new home in Dublin

Ireland, live!!!

Greetings from the Citi hostel, Dublin. By hosteling standards the place is not the nicest I've stayed i, but not the worst. I haven't seen any live rats and they even painted over the black mold in the bathroom between the time we arrived yesterday and this afternoon.

Feed and I flew into Dublin on wednesday morning and Ruthie met up with us at the arrivals gate. From there we headed straight to Dublin center and after a quick caffeine infusion (seriously, you can get it intravenously here...no, not really) we headed towards the guiness brewery in. More or less straight line.

The guiness museum was pretty interesting, though I'm not sure if it was really worth the 15 euro admission. But they gave us a pint at the end in their 360degree glass bar upstairs.

Stay tuned for updates from dingle if we can get the wireless working on Fred's iPad


Sent from Fred's iPad

Things that make you go OW! YOU DUMB...*^$&#

I have two things to share today:

1. Yesterday when I was driving home from work I was passed on my left by a crummy old burgundy/rust/primer colored Toyota. I looked over to look at the driver---to see what they might be in such a hurry for. I've seen a lot of crazy things in Miami, once I saw a guy getting his eyebrows plucked by his passenger while he drove through rush hour traffic on US1, but this takes the cake. The girl in the car next to me was tokin' up. Driving up the Rickenbacker Causeway bridge lighting up a big old glass pipe. Insane.

2. Last night I was hanging out watching 48 Hours Mystery. Minding my own business. Drinking a nice cold Modelo. "And they never found her body..." when all of a sudden "OWWWWWW" There was a sharp prick in my elbow and I looked over to see a monsterous giant homicidal bee crawling around on the arm of my chair. I stood up and started hollering and whooping and screeching something like "Oh! A bee, a BEE! I don't know what to do! I don't know what to do!!!" I'd never been stung by a bee before. Laura got up and yanked the stinger out of my elbow. Scott even helped out by finishing that damn bee off in one gulp. Turns out bee stings aren't so bad, they hurt for a few minutes and then it's okay.

But seriously, bees? Get out of my living room and go back into the bedroom wall where you made your beehive.

no, wait...three.

3. Yesterday Laura and I went to La Moon (it's a Colombian resturant down the street) and I had the most delicious thing ever. A Perro Colombiano. That's right, a Colombian Dog. Yum. It had crispy potato sticks and 5 different sauces on it--including sweet pineapple relish. OMG. I'm hooked.

Packing for Dingle and Day by Day

SMS summer institute is over, I have time to think/work in the lab.

And, I've finally started packing.

I set my Backcountry 1 up last night for the first time--in the living room, which proved somewhat challenging. It's skinnier and longer than I thought, and I love it. It's extremely roomy inside--unlike the Spitfire. I can sit up and stretch out inside it without feeling claustrophobic at all. The Spitfire got really low down towards the foot area and so it was really just an oversized bivy. The Backcountry is just like a small version of a regular tent.

Since it's supposed to be rainy and windy on the Dingle Peninsula I think it's going to be nice to have a free standing tent that I can set up quickly.

The only drawback--and the price that I must pay for its roomyness and free-standing-ness is that it is a full pound heavier than the Spitfire.

Here's my packing list:

Tent
Sleeping bag
Sleeping bag liner (it's supposed to get down into the 40s and I don't wanna freeze my butt off)
NeoAir (it doesn't take up any room in my pack, but it blows up to 2.5 inches thick and weighs only 9 oz!!!)
Granite Gear Vapor Ki pack (I'm hoping that it's small/light enough that I can carry it on so I don't have to check it--the fabric isn't terribly thick/strong and I'm worried that it could get torn. Also: I don't want my stove, fuel bottle, or water filter to get banged up in cargo.)

1L Pot+ Bowl + Spoon
Dragon Fly + empty 10oz fuel bottle [I packed the fuel pump inside my pot to protect it during the journey]
Katadyn Hiker Pro water filter
Backup water treatment tabs
compass + Cards + Notepad + extra batteries + camera
Headlamp
First Aid Kit (has stuff for cuts and scrapes and some medicine for pain, etc)
2 T-shirts
underwear
3 pairs of socks + polypro liners
Rain Coat
Rain Pants
Rain cover for pack
Gaiters
Food, like soup and hot chocolate and oatmeal and coffee/tea--I'm planning on buying most of my food on the road
Stocking cap
Fleece Jacket
Long Johns
Bandanna
Pocket Knife
Kindle (this will be necessary for plane trips, bus trips, and general sanity)
Dinge Way Rucksack Reader (waterproof guide book to the trail)
Packtowel




I packed all that up and weighed my bag--it still doesn't have water or fuel in it--and I'm at 20 pounds. Not bad. I can handle this. I'm thinking of throwing in my light-weight lunaracers too so that I don't have to tromp around in boots for a week and a half.

Yaaaaaay Dingle!


June 29: meet up at JFK, fly to DUB
June 30: arrive DUB, meet up with RUTHIE take bus to busaras and check in at hostel, blah blah blah
July 1: see stuff in dublin: book of kells, dublin castle, drink guiness, visit guiness brewery
July 2: take bus at 7:30 am from busaras to limerick. Limerick to Tralee. Tralee to camp, Hike to castlegregory ~6miles
July 3: Castlegregory to cloghane there's a hostel there. 8.5 miles
July 4: cloghane to ballycurrane.ish
July 5: feohanagh...
July 6: make dunquin. (this is 27 miles from cloghane). There's a hostel here
July 7: dunquin to dingle, 14 miles. hostel in dingle
July 8: make it to annascaul or close
July 9: take bus from annascaul to shannon:
annascaul depart
connect in tralee
arrive limerick
July 10: depart shannon

How I walk into the classroom. Always

Dingle

OMG

Just looked at the forecast for Dingle next week. OMG. Good thing I didn't skimp on my rain gear. This will be one of those adventures that tests my tolerance for comfortableness I think.

And Again Today

but with more help

Starring:

The Newtoneers
VK
KT
SB

Find more videos like this on Science Made Sensible

The Electron Transport Chain

Sound effects by VK

What I did...alllllll day

Note: I don't know what's wrong with the audio. I don't actually have marbles in my mouth.

Day 5, by VK

Fetch

Devo Notes

Once upon a time, Laura asked me for notes. I think she was just looking for an excuse to hang out with me, but she was too shy. I tried to ask her out and she ran away.

SMS day 4

More Comics

A comic that VK and I made during the SMS workshop.

Comics

I just learned about this cool online program called Pixon which lets you make awesome comics.

Check out my first comic:

Review: Monsters Inside Me

My mom has been watching a lot of Animal Planet lately and has developed a serious/unhealthy fixation on a show called Monsters Inside Me. In fact, just through our conversations of late I've learned all I care to know about parasites that may infect humans. Since I'd already heard so much about the show I thought I'd give it a shot. Laura and I watched an episode that included sushi parasites, pork tapeworms in brains and river blindness.

My mom told me "70 percent of all sushi has parasites in it" she really meant "70 percent of wild fish have a certain parasite that can be killed by freezing or cooking properly." Now, I'm not sure if this is true but I think a lot of sushi-grade fish is actually frozen, per FDA rules, before it is served. I saw a figure somewhere that said between 50 and 60 percent of all sushi-grade fish is actually frozen before use. Therefore, while 70% is a sensational number, the actual risk of ingesting a parasite with your sashimi is probably pretty low.

Ok, now that we've gotten my personal parasite risk out of the way I'll actually talk about the show.

Wow. This show is sensational. It's kind of like watching a train wreck. I know it's soooo wrong, but yet I can't take my eyes off it. It's got the perfect mix of CSI style close up computer animations of gross things, like a parasite chewing through someone's intestinal wall, and X-Files music.
The website is full of "Oh My God It's Gonna Kill Us All" type articles and lots and lots of exclamation points and fear inducing terms.
I even got to "adopt" my own drooling, sharp toothed, monster-ific pork tapeworm.Normally I love popular science stuff. I care about science education after all, but I the fear-mongering and scare tactics employed by this show are a bit too over the top. Being informed is great, being scared out of your wits is not great.

That being said, the website is pretty fun and worth a cruise, just take it with a grain of salt.

Swim Bike Run

The pictures from the photographers were posted today. Not a bad set.

I gave plasma today. It went better than last time (in case you don't remember: Last time I had some problem with my blood returning to my body correctly. Instead of going into my vein which I think is how it's supposed to work: it went all up under my skin and made it impossible--or difficult--for me to move my arm for a week and then I had a nasty nasty bruise for a month). But there was a problem with the blood-tube. I guess the blood clotted or something so they weren't able to give my last tub of blood back to me. I feel a little tired/pukey right now.

Team

This was taken as we lined up on the beach to start the Nice.

Near Death Experience

I was swimming yesterday--that's how ALL of these stories start out--did you see me out there? I was the one in the red hat. I was going really fast and keeping up with Mr. Ironman in his powder blue hat when all of a sudden I started doing some splashy synchronized swimming. Or maybe to you I just looked like I was about to drown. Actually all that arm flailing and scissor kicking and erratic backstroking were just evasive maneuvers.

Swimming in the ocean always makes me a little nervous. I've got these little plastic cups on my eyes that only allow me to see well under water and only things that are directly in front of my eyeballs. The water is sometimes murky and I'm swimming over and through seagrass with god-knows-what in it. To add to all that I'm putting my hands in places that I can't see--in front of me. It's the perfect storm of spook-inducing situations. Sometimes, I swim through little clumps of sargassum or floating sea grass and I'm convinced that they're jellyfish. I have to pull my head out to check. Sometimes, I get knocked on the foot from a passing swimmer and I'm sure it's a ray/shark/giant sturgeon out to chomp on me. I have to pull my head out and check. All this stopping to make sure I'm not in life-threatening-danger really slows me down, so I try to quell the nervous voice in my head and keep swimming. So when I started feeling something weird on my leg yesterday I told myself, "Self, don't be weird that's just the bubbles from your powerful stroke tickling your leg." or "Self, that's just a little piece of sea grass you swam over, don't be a baby" And so on for about 10 minutes. Finally I looked down to see this monster trying desperately to attach himself, via a modified dorsal fin-sucker apparatus, to my body:


Ahhh!! Remora!!!


Now, I knew exactly what the fish was, and I knew logically that it posed no threat to me. It was just something about the way it was sinisterly swimming next to my thigh when I dropped my head down to look that really got me panicky. I began kicking furiously and even turned over on my back and pulled out my best backstroke. After a few seconds of this I decided to calm down and start swimming like a normal person again. Stroke...stroke. nibble..nibble.

Ahhh! Remora!!! It was there again.

This time I pulled out every spastic stop and began really flailing about in the water. Splashing, kicking my legs in directions they don't normally go. After I lost the remora, finally, I was breathing a bit hard so I swam into shore and walked for a bit. Then I realized that Mr. Ironman had already reached the turn around point and I was way behind everyone else. I got back in the water and started swimming again. Every clump of sea grass that tickled my shoulders or knees was terrifying.

I got into the clot of other swimmers waiting in the shallow water for everyone to come in before we started back. I said "I was viciously mauled by a remora!" Their response: "Oh, how lucky! I love it when that happens", "Isn't that neat?" or "Now you have a facebook story" No one was concerned that I was suffering from post-remora traumatic stress disorder or PRTSD. It's a real thing guys, look it up.

I swam back really fast.

Miami Nice

I know that out there in reader-land you're all waiting with bated-breath to find out how the Nice-Tri went. Let's start at the beginning. I was born. No, too far back.... I woke up. There we go.

I woke up at 4:30. I hadn't slept well the night before because Laura was out of town at some bike race, or whatever, so in a fit of stubbornness I decided to sleep with the air conditioning Off. It's so loud. I was sweaty all night and tossed around and had typical pre-race nightmares about forgetting my helmet or sinking to the bottom of the bay. I wasn't particularly well rested but it was easy to get up, because I was pretty excited. I took a shower to cool off. This is not a good sign. It's 4:30 in the morning and I need to take a shower because it's already sticky hot.

I got to the race, Ms. McKlunk's wheels were full of air and everything was fine. I had my number written on my arms with magic marker and then I put sunscreen on, which was a good idea but also a bad idea. I was protected from the sun but my numbers got all smeary, so I looked like an amateur. Whatever, I wasn't gonna get burnt. Next time, I'll put that stuff on at home.

I emptied my gym bag underneath my bike and tried my best to make a thoughtful arrangement of shoes and helmet and energy gels so that I could access everything I needed when I was disoriented or exhausted during transitions. I put my shoes in a line under the front wheel of my bike and tossed a towel over the top tube and artfully propped my helmet up, with the straps splayed and my sunglasses, socks, and gloves inside on the handlebars of my bike. It looked pretty much like every one elses' bike--and that's how I know I'm doing something close enough to right. After I set up my transition area I had plenty of time before the race. I went for a short jog. After about 6 minutes I was already sweating buckets and my numbers were even more smeary. The one on my thigh was completely gone. Oh well, that's what race numbers are for I guess. I went back to the transition area and adjusted my things one more time. "No, maybe my running shoes should be 3mm behind this blade of grass..." eventually I gave up trying to perfect my transition mechanics and took my shoes off, grabbed my swimhat, goggles and a powerbar and headed down toward the bay. I stood in the water while the sun came up and ate. Other racers were doing short swims so I decided that that's what I should do too. The water was HOT, but I had to pee too so it was a perfect for a quick swim warmup...

I ended up hanging out in the water for about 20 minutes before the race started. I saw a lot of people I know from our morning swim group--but most of them were doing the sprint distance race. At 7 we lined up in the corral and watched the pros swim off. Every wave has their own hat color. At 7:03 they blew the airhorn and we raced/minced our way across the rocky coral beach and dove into the water/lukewarm-broth and were on our way. I kept up with the pack okay around the first buoy but after that I noticed that there were orange and pink and purple hats around me. Damn. Oh well, I decided at that point that I was going to swim/bike/run my own swim/bike/run and forget everyone else. Which sort of works to make me feel better about my performance, but not really.

I came out of the water after 34 minutes, not bad for a 1500 m swim. A little slower than I wanted--or predicted--but I had to deal with a nearly side-lining injury half way through the swim when some *&%^%$ guy who was BREASTSTROKING (who does that?!) kicked me in the leg and gave me a nasty dead-leg for a few minutes. That sounds like a good 4-minute excuse to me anyway. So, I came out of the water and ran to the transition area--barefoot through a parking lot. I grabbed my towel and promptly threw it in a mud puddle, damn, and then had to put my socks on my feet still wet. I strapped my shoes and helmet on and was off to the bike.

The bike was fine, I tried to go a little faster than I normally do, I think I did. But who knows, really? I hadn't been on my bike for at least 2 months. The bad headset didn't bother me too much except that Ms. McKlunk was a bit wobbly around the turns. The ride was nice though, because it wasn't windy at all, and I wasn't too hot because I was still soaking from the swim and the little puddles in my shoes were keeping my feet pretty cool. I got passed by EVERY one though, which is sort of hard on my ego. I got really excited on my second lap around the island when I passed someone on the bridge. "Yeah! Take that lady! I OWN the bridge" until I realized that she wasn't even part of the race. The last time over the bridge I did pass some old-fat-lady, but she passed me on the bottom again. Probably the only thing that kept me going, besides half heartedly telling myself that it "doesn't matter, I'm biking my own bike here", was the out-and-back nature of the course. On every turn around I could see that I was actually beating some people. Not many, but a handful, and some of them were even in pointy helmets with $10,000 bikes. Ha! Take that!

The transition area was pretty deserted by the time Ms. McKlunk and I made it back. I got off my bike and started running towards my stall when I realized "Umm, if I take another 30 seconds to transition here it's not really going to be the difference between winning and losing" so I walked and took my time getting my shoes on for the run. When I packed for the race I had planned on having some electrolyte capsules and some Powerbar chewies at this point, but I totally forgot. I grabbed my race belt--with only one gu on it--and ran out towards the run course. I was woefully unprepared--in terms of nutrition. Because I was sweating so much I was losing a lot of salt and I was replacing it with mostly straight-up water. I had had some energy drink but the race people were mixing it weakly so I don't think it was enough to replace all the salt that was pouring off me. I was getting leg cramps and feeling pretty woozy on the run. BUT! I was passing more people than were passing me on the run. That felt good. And, maybe I'm a little better at running than I am at biking, but probably it's just because all the fast people--who had passed me on their bikes--had already finished running by the time I got out there and we were left with the dregs so to speak. Still, passing people rocks--even if you're running your own run.

I finished in 3:18, which was before the cutoff and under my "man, if I can't do it in 3:30..." deadline. Turns out it was also good enough for a 3rd place trophy. Ha! First trophy EVER that wasn't a joke.
After the race I went home and laid on the couch and tried to replenish my salt the best I could while my muscles twitched uncontrollably for several hours. I felt fine the next day.

And thus concludes the LONGEST POST EVER, in America, about the Miami Nice.

Alice McKlunk and Surprise! Bonus!

Check it out! I'm getting all ready for my race tomorrow. My SeaLice have subsided and I can now sit still without the overwhelming urge to claw at my chest/back. However, I'm still somewhat nervous. I haven't been on my bike in 2 months (I'm so embarassed to admit this but it's true) Someone did tell me that riding a bike is well, like riding a bike, so I should be fine. Should be fine. Should. My bike--Alice McKlunk--has been through a few rounds of modifications in the past few months. Laura bought a new frame and was playing with adding parts from her old bike to my bike and then taking them off again. This morning, when I was wheeling Ms. McKlunk to her corral in the transition area I noticed that her headset--the thing that allows the handle bars to turn freely within the fork or whatever--was difficult to turn and had a tendency to 'snap' into a straight forward position. Great. So I showed it to Luis who is one of my favorite swim-buddies and he told me that I had a bad bearing. That sounds bad. A few other team-mates very enthusiastically told me that I needed "to move my seat back, put on a longer stem and fix the headset" but "It's such a pretty bike! Is that aluminum? Classic." and "Oh, that's okay, my bike is 12 years old!" Poor old Ms. McKlunk, she can't catch a break. She has an appointment next week with a nice man who gave me a card that says "custom aluminum shelving" and said he'd pick her up and fix her... Sounds legit.

In other triathlon news: I finally got a uniform! I bought a race suit, which is like onesie, and I took it home and tried it on. I ordered a small because I was feeling optomistic about my size and it didn't fit. It was baggy. I drove myself in the sweltering heat all the way back over the bridge to the race expo and waited really patiently while the club president helped a thousand other people buy uniforms only to be told "I didn't order any extra smalls" Ahhh man. But! She was thinking on her feet and said "Oh but I have a few tri tops from last year" She dug around in a box under the table and managed to find the very last left over top from last year. And it fit. There you have it, now I'm official. Good thing too, because I'm signed up to start in the Team Only wave ( a wave is a group of people who get in the water all at once ) instead of my normal age group wave, but I have to have an official team uniform in order to get in the water with the team. I was a bit worried but it all worked out. Now I just have to survive the 24 mile bike ride :< Should have trained for that, but Alice McKlunk is so uncomfortable! And step aerobics is so much fun! Perhaps the tri should be Swim, Step, Run. I'll write a letter.


I got all my gear!


And now, for your bonus surprise! Here are field pictures. Like I said, I didn't take many because Misery does not make me inspired to photograph things.