One Year

[Yeah, so, I started this post 31 July 2008 and never finished it... so now, nearly a year later (5 may 2009), I'm publishing it as-is.)

So it's been over a year since I finally left the part of the country I called home for most of my life. It's been a damned great year. I've learned so much--and to me, learning is what life's about. As of tomorrow, it's a year ago since I arrived in Hawaii. That's where I learned the most vital lesson so far on this journey.

As I mentioned in the previous blog, I was pretty much living a life of luxury* with a job paying $14/hr, and splitting already-low rent and utilities three-ways with the coolest roommates in the world. I knew I had to leave these comforts behind (since 2001, my primary motivation in life was a dream that told me to 'go to the monastery'), but I really didn't know just how far that would have to go.

I told myself I'd save up "enough" money. Problem is, what is enough money? Enough for what? Well, for anything. Anything could happen, so I would have liked an inexhaustible backing (as I mentioned, I became obsessed with winning the lottery). But I was also realistic enough to know that a couple thousand dollars would probably suffice. If I was going to be in the monastery, I could sell my car when I got there--not because I'd need the money, but because I wouldn't need the car. Do you see the problem with the way I was thinking? If you do, you're better off than I was. I wasn't thinking about how much I needed the money, or how it might be useful; it just never entered my mind to have no money at all.

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*A couple of weeks ago, James Funderburk called for a chat. I told him about all the things I'd done in Seattle so far, and he told me he didn't get to do much while he lived here, because he had to work so much, living on "the verge of homelessness." I reflected that for me, the "verge of homelessness" is a step away from that condition, rather than the last step before it. To me, now, the verge of homelessness seems like a leisurely, decadent lifestyle.

[general]

I post MySpace bulletins from time to time (i.e., that's pretty much how you can tell on which days I have access to the internet) with a "Song of the Day." I basically take the lyrics to a song I've heard within the past 24 hours, which stuck with me or made me feel something, and I rework those lyrics as prose. Today I did two Saul Williams songs ("1987" and "Tao of Now"), but this is the real song of the day. It's so catchy, I just might get circumcised.

I'm going to eventually get around to revising the tags on my previous posts, and using only very general and common tags. There's just no use for so many. I think I'll narrow it down to things like "revolution" for my rants, "adventure" for my, well, adventures, and "piracy" for my Big Idea. And even though I already have sixteen blogs, I just might start up one for book reviews (actually, there is one among those sixteen; I suppose I'll just update it--I last posted there almost six years ago) and another for song-of-the-days... I have it in my head that now I'm actually living an interesting life, I might just start up a website rather than make use of MySpace for all my publishing needs.

Oh yeah, and I'll definitely keep the "wx" tag, because weather in Seattle is worth mentioning. It's July--the end of July, even--and it's not going to get over 70°F today. Here's some perspective:
Murfreesboro, TN: currently 91° (feels like 100°), with 57% humidity
Tucson, AZ: 103° (98°) 14%
Killeen, TX: 100° (109°... good Lord, dad, leave) 38%
Seattle, WA: 69° (68°) 42%

Let's see... what else is up? Josh (Jenn's boyfriend) moved in with us, so now we're three people living in a one-bedroom apartment. We're planning to relocate next month, hopefully to another, equally affordable place in the area. Also, I'm squirelling money away in the hopes of being able to afford rent & deposits for the new place and still make it to Burning Man. As long as I limit myself to the supermarket (i.e., cut out Red Robin and the Joker--but Jolly Roger's still cool 'cause it's cheap), I should be able to save up weird amounts of money.

I remember working full-time for T-Mobile, making something like $14/hour... what a life of luxury! But the thing is, I always lived up to my means... I have just as much spare cash as I did then, it seems, even though here I pay nearly double the rent, and over double in gas (even though it's a 30% shorter drive to work).
And I was obsessed with winning the lottery, then. I was spending $50/month on lottery tickets and thinking about what I'd do with the winnings.
And do you know what I was going to do? I was going to live more simply, and travel more. With the excess dough, I was going to do things that would help people. I actually thought to myself, "if I had more money, I could help people."
And then I thought to myself, "what are you doing to help people with the money you have now?" I stopped playing the lottery, then.
And then I did an even crazier thing: I quit my job. So not only did I have less income... I had no income.
And do you know what I did then? I lived more simply, and I traveled more.

This is treatening to turn into a much longer post that what I've resigned myself to (I'm about to head to the library to pick up a book that's being held for me), and so I'm going to change tack (but note to self, add "money" to the list of blogs-to-come) and just mention that me:income / water:pitcher. Whatever size container my employer grants me, I conform to its shape. I see no reason to do that, when I could live even more simply, and have even more money... and then I could actually use that money to help people--for now. Ultimately, I intend to help people with no money at all. But until I work up that much nerve...

Oh, yes, and other things I've been up to:
last Monday, Jenn, Josh and I met up with coworkers+ at Golden Garden (the beach not far from our home; have I mentioned we hope to find a new place in the same general area?). It was a good time, although I managed to get embarrassingly drunk, and Jenny (one of my coworkers) told me it's going to be a weekly event now. Perhaps with a bit less alcohol, though. So anybody coming to visit Seattle, be sure you're here on a Monday.

The day before that, Anna and I went to the Center for Wooden Boats to take part in the free sailing they make available on Sundays. Most of the voyages were booked full by the time we arrived, but there was room left on the last one--which was on John Wayne's yacht! So we got to go out for a 45min trip around Lake Union. Very nice. When visiting, also plan to be here on a Sunday.

Yesterday, I saw the new X-Files movie. I was very pleased. Katie said it wasn't like the X-Files. It wasn't like an episode of the show (it was, in fact, like a movie), but I thought it had everything that the X-Files had ever had going for it. Katie complained there wasn't enoug Skinner, but that's because she's a perv.
Top it off with a good (abeit short) conversation with Nathan, and making Jenn watch V for Vendetta, and yesterday was just another good day in a good week in a great city.

FAIL: Adventure on the high seas! (& Jenny FTW)

I woke up yesterday to the sound of a text message

That up there, thanks to my internet "connection," is all Blogger was able to autosave of a blog I spent oven an hour writing on Monday. Since that crushing blow, I have not had the patience to blog. So Almost There... is missing out on my great story of sailing and picnicking and philosophizing with an engineer, an architect and a cellist.

In newer news, I once again proved my theory, "Put a Bottle In Front Of Me, and I Will Drink It Empty," by draining a cheap bottle of Merlot as I talked to Age, and then Dawna, on the phone until 2:30AM. Meanwhile I finally worked out a draft of my next tattoo that looks like something I'd be willing to get inked. Then I slept, and still managed to get to work at about 6:40AM. I don't understand why I wake up easier after a night of drinking. Anyway, I blame Katie, because I can.

But this is what I came to do today: brag about my sister. Here I am doing all I can to keep life interesting, she goes and tops me by living in the Biosphere-2 this summer. (Yes, the Biosphere-2 does still exist.) During our first trip to the Bs2 last year, Scott and Jenny and I were obsessed with the library--practically the only place we weren't able to get into. Now she's been sending me pictures from inside the library. And she's been living in the same dorm that we snuck into back then. Needless to say, I'm wicked jealous.
Not all of her time, though, was spent in the Great Indoors. She and the other three students who were selected have been hiking and camping, as I understand it. It's all connected to a water conservation project (or as we're saying these days, "initiative") lead by Arizona Rivers. Here is a news story on there-local station KUAT, discussing the project, and even interviewing my kiddo.

adventure, excitement... and retail

Saturday found me waking up after only four hours of sleep and packing (since I only ever do things at the last minute). I met Anna about thirty seconds before climbing into her car and setting out for... adventure!
Actually, the first part involved finding our way to her horseback riding lesson, and me reading Walden Two, and talking to my Aunt BeaJo (as opposed to the sleeping I'd hoped to do). But then... adventure!
Actually, before adventure came excitement: 1) good conversation, 2) awesome new music, and 3) Aberdeen. I was ridiculously giddy to exprience this small town. I was too excited to see it subjectively--this is where Kurt Cobain grew up, so I couldn't imagine it being as small and lame as it was. It was pretty, because all of Washington is, as far as I've seen. There were highschool students outside the supermarket offering free car washes, free bottled water, and free flowers. When we asked why they were doing it, they told us they were just doing something nice. Awesome. But otherwise, it really did appear to be a Logging Town. (But the best part: the sign, "Welcome to Aberdeen, Come As You Are.")
I stood on the muddy bank and took a picture of the Wishkah for Kim, and then we got back on the road... to adventure!

Of course, when I had made the decision to go on a camping trip, I also made the decision to go relatively unprepared. I had enough to survive--peanut butter, honey, trail mix, clothes. But the comforts and conveniences? Not so much. That just wouldn't be "me." Anna was kind enough to lend a spare sleeping bag and pad, and we purchased all kinds of food in Aberdeen (roasting mushrooms over a fire along with hot dogs and garlic bread? awesome). So really all I lacked would be the boots (which I left in Tucson). Waterproof? Ankle support? Screw that, I decided to abuse my red Chucks instead.
So that's the set up; now here's the setting: We hiked several miles of trail (well maintained, not very physically taxing) into the Hoh Rain Forest. It was amazing, but the description does no justice: very large trees, very green everything, the wonderful sound of the Hoh River, small waterfalls and streams to navigate around (or most often, through).
Three miles in, we set up camp. The exciting part here: we had to put our food up, out of the reach of bears. At this particular camping site, they had a line set up on a pulley, so we could clip our food to the line and raise it like a flag. We were told that the bears wouldn't bother us, but if a bear got into someone's food, they would learn to follow future campers and bother them. So if a bear gets into someone's food, then the park is shut down and they kill that bear. So we kept to food up.
Then we enjoyed further hiking without our weighty packs, which left us more free and comfortable to enjoy some of what we'd been walking past. There was one fallen tree in oarticular in which I could have parked my car. There were trees that had grown together in interesting ways. And, my favorite, there were trees that gave the impression of dancing.
There was also an interesting spot that grabbed my interest without explanation. It was like that spot in Mammoth Cave that grabbed me last year, where it had been closed for decades after a tunnel collapsed. Haunting. Intriguing.
We also met a fellow named Andy from Wisconsin who looked like Pestilence from Good Omens, but seemed like my friend Kyle. He asked if we were married, hah.
We met up with him again at the five-mile point--it was beautiful there, but he was moving on to a less populated spot, and we turned back to get to camp by dark.
We failed to figure out the cooking contraption she'd brought, and we spent the next three hours building and maintaining a fire.

It was remarkably nice to wake up in a rain forest. Our camp was right by the water, so once we convinced ourselves to leave the tent (for me, this meant I had to put on my cold, wet shoes), we started up another fire and had lunch. Looking at the river, Anna spotted a tree in the river which would be awesome for sitting on & reading. So I set about for a way to cross the river (meanwhile, she satisfied herself to crash in the sand and read instead).
This was fun, because it involved walking out on one fallen tree, and turning onto another fallen tree... this section of the river had collected probably hundreds of trees, and there were enough big ones connecting at odd angles to form an entire road system, resulting in a maze of huge dead trees. Eventually I found a way to cross, which at the end involved dangling from a tree and dropping--not far, but enough that I would have to find another way back.
At this point, though, I was just on a small island, still only halfway across the river, and there were no more trees to find my way to the tree I was looking for. But there were elk tracks on my little island. Weird.
Anyway, to get back was an adventure. I found myself walking to the very end of one branch and jumping to the next, or to the ground... I would normally be terrified, and maybe it was a result of being so far removed from my usual habitat, but I was pretty okay with it. A little nervous, but all it took to keep moving was to remember that the worst case scenario was I'd fall a few feet into a river. And I can swim.

I found Anna crashed in the sand, and went back to the tent and crashed as well. Considering we each had to be at work in the morning, we should have left much earlier, but too good a time was had to give it up. We did eventually pack up, though, and set out towards the car, and stopping to contemplate one of the streams before resigning to walk though it, and also to admire a gathering of elk in the trail. It was practically dark when we made it back to the car. Driving out of the park, we almost hit an elk and a cougar, and we did hit a rabbit and an owl. How does a bird get hit by a car? Wtf?
The drive back was highlighted by a conversation about heroes--who are they, and what makes them so? This is a subject that occupies my mind much of the time. Socrates tops my list of heroes: when faced with death, he was given options to avoid it. He could leave Athens. He could say he was sorry, and promise to not go about corrupting the youth any more. But instead he remained committed to his personal view: He had done nothing wrong. Not only that, but his accusers were doing themselves and their country a disservice by bringing this about.
So for me, it's a matter of conviction--living by the words you claim are worth living by. But not only conviction... one figure who commonly finds himself in my conversations of heroism is Adolf Hitler. I don't consider him a hero of mine, however he seems to possess any number of attributes I use in identifying the people who I do. So I still haven't figured exactly what it is that makes someone my hero...
This subject actually grew out of a conversation about lying--when is it better to lie? I contend that it never is. It's a gun I sometimes fail to stick by, but that does not mean I think I've ever made the better choice when I've done it...
Anyway, our five-hour drive went on like this until I finally got home at 2:00AM.

8:45 found me at the Barnes & Noble in Issaquah. I love the fact that, when hard-up for a job, I can count on walking out of a B&N with one. Ideally I'd prefer to work in a cool independent store, but really, I won't complain if I'm working with books at all.
The store's a bit of a drive (25-30 minutes each way), but that drive is a beautiful one. I cross the Puget Sound twice each direction, as I approach and leave Mercer Island. And Issaquah has a bit of a snobby feel, but it's real nice. Our store has a huge duck pond behind it, and across that pond is a rad sitting area, and a Red Robin. And our side of the pond has a movie theatre and a Trader Joes.
And the store is quite small--if you took the music section out of Tucson's store, the Issaquah store is half the size of what would be left. The receiving room, where I'll be working mostly, is a third of Tucson's. That means it's cramped. And it's a completely different vibe--all the employees are wicked different from those I've worked with before. It's a very political feel, but not at all uncomfortable. I guess it's really just about people who place importance on very different things from what I'm used to. We listen to NPR. We recycle the packing stuffs.
And it's a retail job, so I won't talk too much about it.

Anyway, I'm going to get moving... it's 1:00PM, and I haven't done anything today (except watch The Discovery Channel, and this). I've got to get into town and do some laundry, and buy the new Dresden Dolls CD (and talk myself out of seeing Indiana Jones, and buying the new Roots CD...)