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February 29, 2008

growing older, colder, and bolder

-65.7 Fwith a -97.8 F windchill.

That ought make Minnesota weather feel downright warm at the moment. A long night of work (monthly server maintenance) followed by an early morning video conference to arrange for a medical consultation. Tomorrow will be a tired one in the ceaseless daze of my IT world.

The world is feeling mellow tonight, steeped in nostalgia and memory. They are vibrant forces here, strong and clear, beautiful and dangerous. It’s a fine line remembering distant friends, family, and former lovers - not allowing the past and the distance to steal from life here. It’s a fine line enjoying this current space and not losing track of the world outside.

Tonight, work is distracting me in a pleasant way. I’m mellow, but in such a manner as to fall toward the nostalgia of worlds away. Funny that I find it work focusing my mind here, at my current home. Time to go out in search of a conversation, then sleep, then dream.

February 23, 2008

additional thoughts

We’re not a close community, by the standards that I know Youth Conservation Corps, anyway, but there is a nice balance to the group thus far. We all seem to move our own way as we adjust to winter, social to a point, but primarily acting solo or in small groups. There is no “include everybody” focus to our activities, just an easy meander about our days. This summer season felt very similar.

So the question, then - is the community different, or am I? Likely bits of both, to ponder as I fall to sleep.

We all adjust in our own way, but (save that it feels much longer) this week has been anti-climactic. Few folk seem publicly troubled by way of what they’ve committed to, and our transition to winter has gone smooth in regard to the pragmatic aspects (i.e. we have all of the fuel we need, we have enough experienced winterovers that station close was not a giant reinvention of previous wheels, nothing broke or blew up, etc.). While summer was fun (and had some wild dancing), the goodbyes were not terribly difficult. The folks I care to see again, I will, and there is rare exception to those not here whom I wish were.

I hesitate (and fear) when I think what a winter would have been like two years ago upon first planning to commit to one. What unfolds in this winter remains to be seen, but I am more confident with every day that I made the right choice to be here now as opposed to then.

And it’s a two-day weekend, so I get to sleep in tomorrow. I have to treasure these - we only get one a month. Projects on tap include making a couple of bean bags with feather pillows (so I guess not bean bags), patching up pants that didn’t survive the dancing season, some pictures (to be posted of our winter home), some cooking (the galley is ours on our days off, the cooks join us in leisure), and some board games (World War II strategy). It should be very, very laid back.

As an added bonus, it was -20F today. That may sound cold, but its thirty degrees warmer than two weeks ago. Summer attempting to make a brief resurgence…

that old familiar twinge

yup. love.

that small grip of nostalgia to share moments with someone that no one else bears witness to. there’s a want for it back and growing.

must be the moon or something. tough being a hopeless romantic at the bottom of the world.

funny to encounter the twinge after an evening of testosterone-driven movies in the gym (Gladiator and 300) but sitting in my room, with a moment to ponder thought and miss old friends and old lovers… my friend anna was right - i fall fast and hard because i spend most of my life looking for it.

the lyrics from the postal service song, clark gable, keep tumbling through my head.

a woman from minneapolis (friend of a friend) writes about this far better than i. www.zosiablue.com

February 21, 2008

a preponderance of pondering

It’s hard to believe that it was one week ago when I watched the final flight of the summer season bank over our heads toward the coast and the North. Time has stretched itself out and it feels as if I’ve been here for many more weeks of the winter season. This is not a bad thing, just one of note.

I’ve spent little time doing work in the IT department this week, falling behind in my tasking as the System Administrator. This is not for lack of ambition or responsibility, however. Preparing the station for the close of the season is an activity that takes everyone we have. The first two days of my week were spent with my department brining in all of our electronic equipment from buildings that are slated to go cold this week. Yesterday I joined a large group to tear down the fuel line and fuel pit at the skiway apron. And today, I spent ten hours hanging out in the dishpit.

Because of the limited size of our population, some positions are considered unnecessary to staff. They are not, however, unnecessary. As a result, the community must step up to fill the needed roles. Our emergency response teams are one example of this, dishpit duty is another. Today was my day.

Though my tasking is falling behind, it was a good change of pace. Working in the galley holds nostalgia for my first season down here as a prep cook. It also gives me a space to turn my music up, sing along like a smiling idiot, and work that let’s my mind wander.

And wander it did. I meandered thoughts from home, to future, about the friends I have left back stateside and those nearby, about the transition of friendships, about relationships and love, self-worth and self-control, good mixed cds yet to be made, writing to be done, and a few art projects. Found myself the surprise recipient of a chocolate banana milkshake, a frappuccino (we suffer so, down here), and was occasionally spotted in the moment of the aforementioned singing.

Walking through the B1 lounge on the way back to my room (our game room area, with a couple of couches, a pool table, ping pong table, and such) I ran across a good crowd. I looked around at those who I consider friends, those who I might build friendship with, and those distance holds sway. I laughed at the permanence of my perspective, realizing the futility of trying to guess what friendships will be strong, new, or faded when there are eight months of intense community to go.

I thought something solid on relationships today as well, in general as well as regarding my own self. A few thoughts on love, wondering when I’ll find it again (and laughing at my friends who made me swear off falling for anyone for six months, it’s now been a year and a half), smiling at the opportunity to focus on friendship here (the ratio being decidedly not in my favor), and marveling (again) at the intensity and speed of relationships here at the Pole.

Like any closed or isolated community (summer camps being an excellent comparison) relationships and dating here traverses in days what may take weeks or months in a stateside community. Entire sagas from beginning to end can take place in a month, let alone over the course of a summer season. And the thing is, there is little choice or option to avoid that intensity. You see each other everyday, find every meal in the same location at nigh the same time, deal with the same friends, the same context, the same community… Effort is not required to see each other, but to take the time to avoid doing so, to right ones own self. It’s a change of pace that works well for some (I enjoy it immensely) and can be destructive for others. To complicate matters, nearly everyone down here is intelligent, competent, and adventuresome - well-steeped in the criteria wanderlust-filled folk search for.

So, thoughts. A good deal many, provided here in abbreviated form, perhaps to be expounded upon later. Time now to settle in for sleep and see, of the mess of ideas, what travels with me to dream.

February 14, 2008

and so it goes...

With a flourish, a sharp bank in our direction, and the aid of a full circle rainbow, the last flight of the summer season flew off into the sun.

The station has closed for the season, leaving a grand total of sixty individuals to learn to navigate through the next eight months and the return of the outside world.

The closing came one day early (along with an associated amount of confused and unexpected hubbub as departing folk were caught by surprise) due to weather. The Air National Guard decided that it was against their best interest to wait out the potential weather and pulled the remaining fifty or so summer employees by two this afternoon. We spent the rest of the day in an easy sort of manner, moving into the new station (for those of us out in summer camp) and letting the commitment of the next eight months sink in.

We finished the eve with the traditional showing of John Carpenter’s The Thing - a horror movie about an alien in an isolated Antarctic station creating mayhem, paranoia, distrust, and murder. We’re nothing if not morbid!

Tomorrow I begin my role as the IT Systems Administrator full time, with a lovely backlog of work and a heap of good education from the previous tenants. So goes the switch from day to day, from summer camp to the new station, from Cargo to IT, and from summer season to winter.

February 13, 2008

almost there...

Just two and a half more days until sixty-odd winterovers are snowed-in at the world’s most expensive treehouse for the next eight months. The station is a hustle of activity as the population drops from roughly 220 down to our estimated winter crew of 65. People are running around packing, celebrating, panicking, rethinking, laughing, wondering, wandering, dancing, and eventually flying out of here. You’d think I’d know by now exactly who I’m spending the next eight months of winter with, but that’s in flux to, as always until the last minute.

When the final flight is in the air Friday afternoon, then we’ll be able to look around and know just who is staying. Then it all begins.

February 12, 2008

the working guts

My computer’s hard drive (a new one, replaced less than a month ago) took a dive, again. This time it was a complete loss - no backup earlier than one month past. So, it will be a few days before a longer update, and if you’ve emailed me in the past month, there is a good chance your email has gone to the ether.

More soon…

February 05, 2008

holding up the mantle

I enjoy, when given a chance to see them, perspectives that come with time - hints of a growing wisdom, age with knowledge instead of just age.

For instance, thoughts on trust and the manifestations thereof in past relationships. A view that our trust in others, if not clearly communicated, dictates our actions toward them, but not theirs toward us.

In English (sort of): if I trust someone implicitly, my actions (my faithfulness, in terms of relationships) follow in accordance. If my trust is not complete and questions or jealously exists in the airwaves, then my actions will be based on that ambivilance or paranoia. If my trust is implicit, and I am not careful, I will view my partner in that same manner, as trusting me completely. If my partner does not trust me completely, then there can be no faith in the implicit manner of trust that I offer.

In story: My heart was broken solidly, several years past. Though the healing has long since taken place, the understanding of how and why the end happened occasionally grows. It’s nice to know I’ll be able to take better care next time.

As a side note, with winter coming up at the Pole, a repeat of a brief manifesto:

I will die an idealist, even if it kills me.