Friday, April 3, 2009

Springtime for Juneau

Spring is in the air. It is apparent because we (1) see the sun, (2) are not drenched in rain, (3) are wearing our light winter jackets rather than our heavy winter jackets - at least during the daylight hours, and (4) the daylight hours are stretching earlier into the morning hours and later into the evening hours.



What does Spring mean to Juneau?



Mr. JF will be returning to town one day, Miss L will be returning the next day, and as the month of April progresses, new people will show up. I feel like it hasn't been all that long since last summer. I guess that's not bad.



Tourists will begin to crowd our downtown streets and shops and watering holes - this year will be a slow year for tourism. Some of us count this among our blessings, others consider this a curse.



More trails will thaw and become easier hikes and we will hopefully have a nice enough summer that a hike needn't involve head to toe rain gear.



The bears will come out of hibernation. I guess that's already started in some places. I've never had any near death bear encounters, but I must say that running into a bear too close can be a little frightening.



Beerball will resume. I think it generally begins in late April or early May. Last year I didn't play in a single pickup game, but this year I plan to spend a little more time having fun.



Spring may also mean twitterpation. I think I was pretty wrapped up in my drama with Mr. A this time last year, but later in the actual Summer months, I managed to fall into that sweet little Summer fling with Mr. Mountain Man. Perhaps the general thaw will include some hearts this Spring.



I am stuck on Spring because last night I went to dinner with Miss J. From our table at the Hangar, we admired the view of the Gastineau Channel and Douglas Island. I found myself prompting Miss J once again, "Look how beautiful Juneau is!" We opted out of seeing I Love You, Man in favor of going for a walk along the waterfront and sitting on a dock, throwing a wrinkled kiwi, shockingly discovered in Miss J's purse, into the channel. Miss V joined us for the adventure as well, though she did not partake in the spiked juice we passed around.



It seems that whenever I go out with Miss J, even when she has to work the next morning, I find myself drinking more than I ought for longer than I ought. Including the pint of Deschutes Black Butte Porter (from where I grew up in Oregon) I had with dinner, I probably consumed enough alcohol to, at the very least, tranquilize a Shetland Pony. Oops. In my defense, I did turn down a number of drinks and I did consume a number of glasses of water along with my copious amounts of alcohol. I probably could have made it through the night without feeling quite so intoxicated had I not had drinks ordered for me or had one of the drinks not been a Red-headed Slut - a dangerous concoction of J├Ągermeister, Peach Schnapps, and cranberry juice. Ick. Still, I managed to survive the evening of trivia, karaoke, and consoling a friend who is dealing with some tough times. All without vomiting, blacking out, or making out in public.



Once home, Miss J put in Twilight, forcing me to watch much of it twice in as many days. She kicked me each time I made a sarcastic comment. We were trying to wait up for Miss P and Mr. G, but they were taking longer than anticipated. By the time they finally arrived I let them in, ushered them to the couch, then went to bed myself. I thought it would be worth it to note how often former flings have slept on my couch - post fling. I think the tally is at three. I guess it is a good sign that I'm not a crazy bitch, being friends with ex lovers and all. Mr. G and I have known each other for over a year now. It's fun that we are now at a point where we can hang out and watch cartoons, enjoying the good company. Not like that month when he ignored me completely, or the months when he tried to pretend like he hadn't ignored me completely and wanted to invite himself to my bed.


Last night I fell asleep with ease but didn't sleep very soundly. I kept waking up and at some point just stayed up reading pop lit. I've determined that the closest I can ever come to writing pop lit is this - my blog - because pop lit isn't timeless. A pop lit novel is out of style as soon as the references are worn. In 20 years or in 50 years or in 100 years or more, will people really get a reference to pop stars and fleeting trends? Now and then, I indulge myself with a little pop lit, it goes down easy and doesn't keep you up at night, but in the end I must admit my preference for real literature that is as relevant today as it was when it was written and will remain relevant for years and years to come. Centuries perhaps.

Tonight I have some big plans. First: Primping at home. I'm thinking cute dress and green boots. Yes? Yes. Post-primping there will be some gallery walking - I imagine this gallery walk will be much more effective than the last gallery walk since I am fully capable of walking like a normal person. No more hobbling. At 6:45 I arrive to cocktail for Mr. JB's birthday party. After that fiasco is over, I'll head down the hill with some bills in my pockets (if I have pockets) to dance the night away to some Deering and Down, and perhaps if they take a break I can mosey on over to the Red Dog Saloon, which has upped it's street cred incredibly by having Honky Tonk habit play. After all this running around, I am hoping for a good night's sleep and a good morning's sleep in tomorrow.

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