Euro-Aussie-Kiwi-Rugby-FauxHawk-RatTail-Mullet Thing.

I got a haircut.

the Danish chick Luna cut it for me. And now, I'm crazy looking. Actually, I look about 6-7 years younger. It's pretty crazy how much a haircut can do. But I look about 15 now, seriously, not just normal young lil' guy Sean looking, but early teens for sure. But, I like it. I look like a punk. Pictures coming.

Lots has happened sort of, but no one's commented or anything so I've been pretty unmotivated to write here. I attempted to get into the habit of writing at least a page every morning when I woke up and instead I got in the habit of doing 20 push-ups every morning. hey at least I got into a habit. Any sign of discipline is a good sign in my opinion at this place. It's been cool but the not working so much has actually been difficult. I've been here a week and it seems like forever. I have very little to do since I can't always leave and go off to the beach because we sort of have to float around the backpackers place in case any of the guests need help or etc etc etc. It's also been overcast today and yesterday which just pisses me off. I was weeding the garden paths this morning and remembered or noticed or what have you, that one thing I honestly haven't gotten tired of or something I can honestly appreciate every day (when it occurs) is waking up to bright sunshine and a blue sky. This happened almost every day in college and thinking, almost every day I would take note of it when I woke up and of course appreciated it greatly. Even when I had it every day I appreciated it. Not like, "you need some clouds and rain to appreciate the sunshine" uh, no that just doesn't make sense. I appreciate the sunshine when it's always sunny. So anyway, it turns out that not only must it be warm, but it must also be sunny, for Sean to be in a good mood. It's not necessarily a bad mood, but waking up to anything but blue sky and sunshine is like an automatic tick against the day. It's not the best way to start the day, let's say.

so , like i said, a lot has happened. i've learned that two of my three hosts are just really passive aggressive, which is just behavior I can't tolerate. "Sean, do you see what I'm doing?" "uh...." "I'm washing other people's dishes." Just freaking tell me, Hey Sean could you help me with these dishes, or how about, hey sean, could you take care of these dishes for me? or even, hey Sean if you see dishes just lying around could you wash em up and put em away. Thanks. Then. no problem. why put me through the exercise of guessing what you want. Anyway. Not that big of a deal. Just annoying behavior.

so, some younger backpackers came through and the five of us workers fraternized with them in the Radio Station, which was awesome. Taught them a bunch of drinking games, had a few laughs. Good Good. It was nice just to, I'm not sure. Do stuff I'm used to? Or do stuff that reminds me of home. I haven't played drinking games in a long time. So yeah. Little slice of home, although instead of PPXC brethren, it was a Canadian, a Dutchman, 2 Englishmen, 2 Germans, a Frenchwoman, a Dane and some Kiwis. So yeah. whatevs.

then what else? I watched this local guy butcher a deer carcass. Sweet. We have two HUGE pots of stew boiling in the kitchen as I type courtesy of our resident chef from Denmark. She's great. (to avoid confusion: this place does not have a 'resident chef' but right not Luna, the Dane is living/working here and she is a gourmet chef)

I also herded some sheep. The crew thought it was funny to lock me in the corral with the sheep and tell me to bring them out a male lamb. They all laughed as this American city boy chased sheep around in a circle bending over to try and assess the sex of these panting sheep. it was funny. Let's all have a good chuckle about it. I had to carry this heaving sheep out and over the fence and put it into the back of the track. It's what I do.

As for everything else. For the first time in a long time I am getting really anxious to go home. I think its because perhaps I'm getting close to going home. It's the same anxiety of wanting to finish a long run when you get to the last 2-3 miles. You pick up the pace, working harder than you really want to and making the final mile tougher than it needs to be. That's kinda what's happening right now. I can feel I'm close and I'm starting to indulge in the thoughts of home that just make the final month and a half I have here harder and harder to deal with. Stupid me.

we had a kick ass Indian curry potluck last night and we all stayed up drinking and dancing and playing crazy music. One of the owner's good long time friends was visiting from Australia and had just arrived. So it was a celebration of sorts and everyone was feeling chipper. So, naturally, i'm tired right now. because i didn't get good sleep and i spent the whole morning weeding weeding weeding. I had vanilla ice cream with freshly chopped mint from the garden for lunch. hee. so. i do what i want.

OK, as a test, here is a rough draft image that I scribbled down after a run a few weeks ago:

Downhill Running:

Turning around and heading back along the track I had just spent laboriously minute after minute trying to climb, a thought feeling memory came into full view directly in front of me. I felt, all of a sudden, lonely. Now, I’ve been traveling by myself for more than 2 weeks now and haven’t once felt lonely. But here, on this trail, along the beautiful Marlborough Sounds, the Queen Charlotte Track, certainly not empty. I felt lonely. Because here I was, in a Wilderness Park, running downhill after a hard climb. And doing it alone. Will wasn’t here. Crosby wasn’t here. Not McDavid or Swanny. Nate wasn’t here. Nor the little freshmen, like Brian, John, or Andrew. Nobody was here, with me. Doing what I’ve done so many times with all of them around me. Beside me, in front of me, behind me. I had relaxed, the downhill direction being much easier, but as I let out a large breath, I almost caught myself looking around, looking around no doubt, for those I am accustomed to sharing this with. I wanted to share the relief that followed a hard climb. Now that I was cruising, I wanted someone to talk to, banter with, to slap on the back and speculate about what the dining hall may have in store today.
I had always treated the Ridge as a race. No matter who I was with, no matter how I felt, When that first incline really got going, I turned mean, if only for myself. And cruising or dragging my ass up that climb, punishing visible or invisible demons, I focused on the Task. But the downhill, the inevitable consequence of running up, was a time to enjoy my company. Justifying to myself that the uphill was where the benefit of the workout lay, and the downhill, simply useless, in fact, only good for my seething knees to plot for their ruthless revenge 20 years down the line. No, the downhill saw me as a different beast. Chatty, flippant, practically carefree. Running downhill, as if I hadn’t suffered a bit in the preceding minutes. Basking in the glow of a job completed, a UV filled SoCal morning, and the positive energy of my teammates.


Cheers guys. Hope the weekend comes soon for you. I'm practically there, considering I'm day ahead of y'all.