This was a great weekend.
In my last weekend home before I sail this summer, I went up to see my best friends at the state college about forty five minuets away. Needless to say, it was a very "college experience and I had more fun that weekend than the three before it. Nothing beats hangout out with your true friends and seeing the people make make home so great.
You see, I've been reading a lot lately. The last two book I read, Paper Towns by John Green and Into the Wild by John Krakauer, deal extensively with the themes of adventure and leaving. These two things are very prevalent in my life, especially now that I am on the precipice of a salty summer. My adventure will not be akin of Margo Roth Spiegleman or Chris McCandless; a lot of people will know where I am going and I'll have a phone.
These books have made me think about what I am undertaking though. This adventure will afford me experiences that I couldn't get any other way. Some people may make jokes about how 'crunchy' this picture is I am painting, and I honestly don't care. I'm not doing this for anyone else, I don't really need to defend my choices to people (or this choice at least). I want urgently the freedom of choice and the responsibility to be beholden to myself, meanwhile I value the dear friendships I've made.
I guess this is where the selfish part of the whole adventurism-lifestyle come into play. In order to feel the freedom of the Alaskan countryside or miles of open blacktop with nothing but a backpack and a crosshatch notebook, I need to (simply put) leave. Now, this may sound simple, but when you have great friends and family at home, some of whom you haven't laid eyes on in more than ten months, it's hard to put it on hiatus for even longer and not feel like an ass.This is the price of adventure; I am exchanging a summer for an experience that few people get to have. I committed to this trip long ago, and I will honor my word to myself. I owe it to all those that aided me in wandering into this place, and now that I am here I need to do what it right.
Now, to all my friends I will not see until August third, have a great freakin' summer. You guys have made my first year of college so great and I really owe it to you for helping me get through some pretty crappy times (the month of yelling/the ten days of poop). Just the thought of those late night Smash/Mario Cart sessions made me smile. I'm sure I will be thinking of those nights during some of those really shitty stormy nights that I spend heaving the whatever-the-hell-is-in-my-stomach into a seawater toilet bowl that smells like stale pee and testosterone.
Just to clarify, I typed that last sentence with a smile on my face, because Chris McCandless would say that's a needed experience of the shipboard life, and Margo Roth Spiegleman would say that I would need to clean myself up and take a damn shower (right?).
I can't wait!
AF
P.S. Canada is still a wicked interesting Country. I dig talking to her.
Monday, April 25, 2016
Friday, April 15, 2016
Flour and Honey Mustard
On Thursday, I had a near miss.
The morning maintenance session was underway as usual, but instead of a usually-petty-boring engine assignment, I was assigned to help take on stores for the cruise that I will be going on this summer. Today, it was bulk dry goods and non-perishables. It a mini-cargo operation; I've never seen the ship so busy.
The first hour was pretty brutal. I have never before carried so much mountain dew. Each load was stacked six cases high in the familiar fire wood fashion. Walking was the easy part, but I think I managed to drop (most) of the cases pretty roughly on the deck. I apologize in advance for those who like the stuff... You're probably going to get a face full of electric green as soon as crack one open.
Soon there after, some hand trucks were given out and the process was expedited even further. The trucks were fully loaded with even more soda and I've never been so sick of damn cans in my life. Eventually the soda ran out, only to replaced by Gatorade syrup and juice concentrate. After that came, pasta, mustard, ketchup, olives, more bulk goods.
Then came flour and honey mustard.
I wasn't on the weather deck at the time, but the main deck standing away from the cargo square like I had been told to do. I was busy loading my truck and thinking about something else to say to my old-OIC. Two contractors were walking down the passage way and were about to go under the cargo hatch, but an upperclassmen put her arm out to stop them. She was doing exactly what she was told to do, and stopped them right in their tracks. I heard one of them swear under his breath and turn around to go the long way to get to the stair well.
A moment later a bridle on the cargo net parted, spilling a pallet's worth of flour nearly fifteen feet through the cargo hatch onto the main deck. It sounded like a gunshot, and I could feel the shock wave through the steel plating. After a few moments, the flour settled and everyone remaind quiets.I think we collectively realized that the two contractors were a few step from being crushed beneath what at one time be pancakes, and simultaneously let out one big "holy f****** shit f***.
To make a long story short, the mates on the ship made sure everyone was okay, check for damage, assigned people to clean up the mess (which was actually kind of fun, have you even had flour up to your shins and cleaned mustard off a bulkhead?) and the operation continued. The cadet that stopped the contractors was given as close to a fist bump as the crew give, and an extra emphasis was placed on the importance of following procedure. A good thing came out of something that could have been very bad; ship rules save lives.
I think this is my first ship story, and I know there are more to come soon. As I prepare to cruise this summer, I decided to hold it upon myself to keep a journal over each of the ninety days. I have no idea what I will do with the work, but I promised myself I would do it.
Here's to a good weekend.
AF
The first hour was pretty brutal. I have never before carried so much mountain dew. Each load was stacked six cases high in the familiar fire wood fashion. Walking was the easy part, but I think I managed to drop (most) of the cases pretty roughly on the deck. I apologize in advance for those who like the stuff... You're probably going to get a face full of electric green as soon as crack one open.
Soon there after, some hand trucks were given out and the process was expedited even further. The trucks were fully loaded with even more soda and I've never been so sick of damn cans in my life. Eventually the soda ran out, only to replaced by Gatorade syrup and juice concentrate. After that came, pasta, mustard, ketchup, olives, more bulk goods.
Then came flour and honey mustard.
I wasn't on the weather deck at the time, but the main deck standing away from the cargo square like I had been told to do. I was busy loading my truck and thinking about something else to say to my old-OIC. Two contractors were walking down the passage way and were about to go under the cargo hatch, but an upperclassmen put her arm out to stop them. She was doing exactly what she was told to do, and stopped them right in their tracks. I heard one of them swear under his breath and turn around to go the long way to get to the stair well.
A moment later a bridle on the cargo net parted, spilling a pallet's worth of flour nearly fifteen feet through the cargo hatch onto the main deck. It sounded like a gunshot, and I could feel the shock wave through the steel plating. After a few moments, the flour settled and everyone remaind quiets.I think we collectively realized that the two contractors were a few step from being crushed beneath what at one time be pancakes, and simultaneously let out one big "holy f****** shit f***.
To make a long story short, the mates on the ship made sure everyone was okay, check for damage, assigned people to clean up the mess (which was actually kind of fun, have you even had flour up to your shins and cleaned mustard off a bulkhead?) and the operation continued. The cadet that stopped the contractors was given as close to a fist bump as the crew give, and an extra emphasis was placed on the importance of following procedure. A good thing came out of something that could have been very bad; ship rules save lives.
I think this is my first ship story, and I know there are more to come soon. As I prepare to cruise this summer, I decided to hold it upon myself to keep a journal over each of the ninety days. I have no idea what I will do with the work, but I promised myself I would do it.
Here's to a good weekend.
AF
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Life is Strange (part II)
I have a big test tomorrow in Humanities II, a class that challenges the way I think. Lately, we have been talking about quantum entanglement, and all things that make my head hurt. One way that I have been able to better understand some of the things we have talked about is the game (I'd rather call it a narrative, because it has really made an impact on my life) Life is Strange.
I just completed the third of five episodes, and the volume is picking up. Max, the protagonist, is now capable of altering events even deeper into the past. One of the main points of the story is that Max's friend blames the way her life turned out because of her father's death when she was just a young child. The friend is the definition of a teenage burnout; drugs, ill-fated relationships, and the occasional police run-in are the ordinary. The death altered the friend's path in life drastically, but what if it didn't happen?
The player is presented with a choice at the climax of episode three; to hide the father's keys to prevent him from driving, or let the man die in a car crash that sparked the downward spiral of her friend? After weighing the pros and lack of cons I decided to save the dad, but the repercussions of that decision couldn't have been any larger. When the payer comes back to the 'current" time, Max's friend no longer has the blue punk rock hair, tattoos, or attitude she once has; instead, she has a wheelchair and a hole in her throat.
This is where the episode ends, but why? I thought saving the father would set the friend's life on track to something more productive, no make her an quadriplegic. I haven't played beyond this point, most due to the test tomorrow, but I think I can already see the conclusion on the horizon. Everything happens for a reason, even if it is truly awful and there are no benefits at all. Sometimes, things just need to be the way they are. I can see this in my own life in two big events; a death and a sickness. One before I was on this planet, and one when I was still a young child.
My brother (whom I have written about before) passed away in 1989, which set in motion a series of events that led to a divorce, another marriage, and my birth. I have always wondered if my brother was alive today, would things have happened like they did? Is my life directly tied to the death of my brother? Its a weird notion to have, but I have talked about it with my Mother before. She gave me some insight into the issue, but she really couldn't say that things would be the same.
She did say, however, that she put her faith in God during this whole event. Regardless of what happened, my Mom's faith in God's plan for herself and her family would never have changed, and that the way her life has played out simply is. She truly is one of the strongest people I know, and has always been a role model to me. My Mother has been tested in more ways than I will ever know, but her resilience is what gives me hope and drives me to succeed in my life.
The next big experience that I will talk about was my pretty serious illness in the eight grade. Long story short, I was extremely sick and had long road to recovery, but I did it. The experience of being in an intensive care unit and getting a glimpse of what my brother went though some twenty years prior weighed on me and especially on my Mother. Oddly enough, I feel like having this shared experience is what gave me insight into who he was. I felt like I got to know him without ever hearing his voice or seeing him in person.
Now if I were to go back in time and change all of this, would my life today be anything similar to where I am currently? Honestly, I don't couldn't say one way or another, and I don't really think that is up to me to even contemplate. Things happened, and they are irreversible. My Mother has told me that life is weird, and that these things happen for reasons we may never know. It's our faith in God and the people around us that help us cope with these terrible events; with their help we can push though and do great things.
My Mom is right. I've been givne a great opportunity on this earth and it is up to me to make the most of it. It's up to me to not get caught up in the could-have-beens and memories, but to see the world for what it is worth.
Life truly is strange.
I hope at least understand some of it (and get a good enough grade on yet another test).
AF
I just completed the third of five episodes, and the volume is picking up. Max, the protagonist, is now capable of altering events even deeper into the past. One of the main points of the story is that Max's friend blames the way her life turned out because of her father's death when she was just a young child. The friend is the definition of a teenage burnout; drugs, ill-fated relationships, and the occasional police run-in are the ordinary. The death altered the friend's path in life drastically, but what if it didn't happen?
The player is presented with a choice at the climax of episode three; to hide the father's keys to prevent him from driving, or let the man die in a car crash that sparked the downward spiral of her friend? After weighing the pros and lack of cons I decided to save the dad, but the repercussions of that decision couldn't have been any larger. When the payer comes back to the 'current" time, Max's friend no longer has the blue punk rock hair, tattoos, or attitude she once has; instead, she has a wheelchair and a hole in her throat.
This is where the episode ends, but why? I thought saving the father would set the friend's life on track to something more productive, no make her an quadriplegic. I haven't played beyond this point, most due to the test tomorrow, but I think I can already see the conclusion on the horizon. Everything happens for a reason, even if it is truly awful and there are no benefits at all. Sometimes, things just need to be the way they are. I can see this in my own life in two big events; a death and a sickness. One before I was on this planet, and one when I was still a young child.
My brother (whom I have written about before) passed away in 1989, which set in motion a series of events that led to a divorce, another marriage, and my birth. I have always wondered if my brother was alive today, would things have happened like they did? Is my life directly tied to the death of my brother? Its a weird notion to have, but I have talked about it with my Mother before. She gave me some insight into the issue, but she really couldn't say that things would be the same.
She did say, however, that she put her faith in God during this whole event. Regardless of what happened, my Mom's faith in God's plan for herself and her family would never have changed, and that the way her life has played out simply is. She truly is one of the strongest people I know, and has always been a role model to me. My Mother has been tested in more ways than I will ever know, but her resilience is what gives me hope and drives me to succeed in my life.
The next big experience that I will talk about was my pretty serious illness in the eight grade. Long story short, I was extremely sick and had long road to recovery, but I did it. The experience of being in an intensive care unit and getting a glimpse of what my brother went though some twenty years prior weighed on me and especially on my Mother. Oddly enough, I feel like having this shared experience is what gave me insight into who he was. I felt like I got to know him without ever hearing his voice or seeing him in person.
Now if I were to go back in time and change all of this, would my life today be anything similar to where I am currently? Honestly, I don't couldn't say one way or another, and I don't really think that is up to me to even contemplate. Things happened, and they are irreversible. My Mother has told me that life is weird, and that these things happen for reasons we may never know. It's our faith in God and the people around us that help us cope with these terrible events; with their help we can push though and do great things.
My Mom is right. I've been givne a great opportunity on this earth and it is up to me to make the most of it. It's up to me to not get caught up in the could-have-beens and memories, but to see the world for what it is worth.
Life truly is strange.
I hope at least understand some of it (and get a good enough grade on yet another test).
AF
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)