Saturday, December 24, 2011

Mistaken Identity

As usual, just as I was saying to myself that I didn't have anything to write about (nothing fit for public consumption that is...) I had the oddest conversation last night with a stranger, over text.

It was 12:24am when my phone rang. Caller ID said it was a Tampa, FL number. I don't know anyone in Florida so I didn't answer. Next, my phone beeped telling me I had a new voice mail. Some guy named Alex was looking for Jess. I ignored it. He sounded all of 19. A drunk dial for sure.

Immediately after the voice mail he texted me saying, "it's Alex". The following text conversation ensued:

Tuesday, December 13, 2011


For those of you envisioning me as the glamorous jet-setter of Alaska, let me set you straight. I'm not. The job is not. Take for example my current abode in Galena.

This is my bed. Notice the mismatch in size between the mattress and box spring. How's that for glamor?!  


I'm in Galena for five days and groceries here are about 5x the price (at least) of those in Fairbanks. Thinking ahead, I brought my own wine. 

I seem to be the only person in the adult dorm this week. No one will notice. Right?

Monday, December 12, 2011

Christmas? What happened to Thanksgiving?

I don't know how it got to be Christmas already. The last few weeks have been a blur. But to recap briefly, let's revisit Thanksgiving.

Lovely dinner with the ladies. For the first time in, I don't know how many years, I did not play Nertz on Thanksgiving. Just as well, I'm sure, as it is referred to as a blood sport by some folks.

I volunteered to make pies before realizing that I didn't have a rolling pin. This is why, one should always have wine in the house!

Monday, December 5, 2011

Adak Revisited

Further west than Hawaii and as far south as Vancouver British Columbia. Yet, at times Adak feels like a parallel universe. It's a place where you walk your dogs by having them run behind the truck for a few blocks, you park on the front lawn,

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Clean Meat

So I'm at the Anchorage airport, enjoying a glass of wine. A couple is seated across from me. The woman's seafood salad arrives. "The meat isn't clean," she says. "I asked for clean meat. The crab is mixed with everything else."