25 in 1st at 5000

a few things I am, as an otherwise vaguely functional adult, tragically incapable of handling: 

-claustrophobic situations

-waiting 

-repetition 

please read my self-absorbed soliloquys, and pay special attention to the photographs, with this insight in mind. 

*

the anchorage. I selected a dank filter on purpose. this was a sloppy-ass day. my adductors are tired of trying to be upright on this fucking goddamn ice. 

I am the WALggfbmytrf. 

this is where my family once rented "Overboard", "The Secret of My Success", and "Outrageous Fortune." 

this actually makes me very happy. 

the western-facing window. 

the shadowing was a happy accident. 

I fucking love these guys! here they are atop the dumpster at the Bear Tooth. 

not terribly good for the morale, this. not terribly good at all. 

entropy making out with the kaladi cup. 

sexy, mysterious Turnagain. 

the exotic antics of when you live alone. 

"...about that saudade, we don't even have a word for it, it's like longing, and homesickness and sadness and, shit." -nani power 

the checking of one's bad self

moving back to Alaska was a decision years in the making.... but I didn't move back for Alaska. I grew up here: shivering and miserable, hiding inside with a book, restless and disgusted. I left the state on my 18th birthday. there's a photo of me at the airport. I was sitting on the lap of my then-fiancé (!), wearing a dumb hat with a pastel yin-yang on it because I'd just chopped off all my hair. and an eyebrow ring, and a fresh finger tattoo that matched his, and red Doc Martens. and a maniacal fucking smile... I couldn't wait to get out into the real world, get dirty, get hurt. I thought fucking up sounded almost glamorous, because it meant that at least I was finally figuring out my own destiny. 

I moved back to Alaska for the people. my favorite humans in the world lived here. I considered them family. I felt safe in my weirdness...

over the past 10 months, I have finally fallen in love with Alaska, the place. that has been the only aspect of being back that has really been a pleasant surprise. everything else, for lack of a more articulate term, has not really gone the way I hoped or wished it to. a lot of it was my fault and a lot of it wasn't. I have had my fucking heart broken, my ego decimated, and my idealism turned sideways. I've spent way too much time and effort beating myself up over what I've done wrong and what I could have done differently. and for the last few months, I've been doing it in one of the darker places in the world. 

a few things I've finally started to realize, really realize:

1. if I do the same shit over and over and it still sucks, I probably shouldn't continue to do it. 

2. I am a fucking lonely person no matter where I am. my isolation wasn't Seattle's fault, or Anchorage's fault... the place is irrelevant. I'm always going to be getting in my own fucking way until I eventually decide not to. 

3. it is an inherently kind and awesome world. 

decisions are pending. 

-the bombastic sunrise the other morning. 930am. 

-Denali the African grey. he was carrying on until I walked over and was silent until I left. I love birds... they're such assholes. 

-nyuk-nyuk, Anchortown. 

-corn doesn't really grow here. 

-two of my favorite houses ever! I remember being about 7 when I first saw the pink one. "oooh!" I murmured from the backseat of the Cherokee. when I was 7 I wanted a pink house, long straight blonde hair, a horse named Silver, and for my name to be "Traci-with-an-i."

a prow front and a badass chimney! not pictured: the mailbox painted with sailing ships. 

-anchorage facing north from the 17th floor. 

-4th Avenue Theater. I like this angle. 

-the municipal building they're fucking with on 4th Ave. 

-this textural nightmare has contributed to my decision-making process. thank FUCK for cleats. I walked 8 miles today on this fucking bullshit and didn't fall once. and then I saw a woman get off a bus with crutches, onto a icy berm right next to a huge puddle and 45mph traffic, and I thought "fuck this place for not taking proper care of its people at a basic level." god forbid, if you're carless and you break your leg or otherwise cannot walk in Alaska in the winter? just fucking move. because this place will make it fucking dangerous, if not impossible, for you and your sanity. 

-but then I saw this. 

I am shocked by how so many things I used to think were so important are completely fucking not. it's rather freeing, really. 

able to vs should vs will

about an inch of standing water atop ice, earlier today. viva la cleats! the street's mostly bare pavement now. I'd forgotten how fucking beautiful bare pavement is. I know that contributed to my wistfulness today. I thought the term "homesick" and I wasn't referring to Anchorage....

also, "speed hump" and requisite Butt-Head laugh for all you non-locals.

Entropy the Useless.  

snow on the overpass, 2 nights ago. no one else was out, as usual. MY town! 

sexy, mysterious Minnesota Carrs' flooded parking lot this afternoon. 

this was imbedded in the ice by the Alaska Club. 

FOG! fog is how you make out with the universe. 

feigning functionality. 

Q: where do pirates get their groceries? 

A: ARRS! 

This was taken from my catbird seat on the 3. there was a man in front of me with very visible dandruff and an inert, scrawny man wearing a surgical mask sitting in the back. oh buses. 

"she tore herself away, and went out. and I went away. I cannot describe the emotion with which I went away. I should not wish it ever to come again; but I should think myself unfortunate had I never experienced such an emotion." 

-Turgenev, "First Love" 

bend me, shape me

damn, sunrise. you so sexy. 

this is the humble street on which I live. 

having a crappy day? thinkin' 'bout bullshit? try walking into a sleety headwind and feel the ice actually smack against your corneas. suddenly there will be only one thought in your mind, and it will be: gosh, this is unpleasant weather. all other laments fade away! 

how purifying! 

note the ice-clumps on my eyelashes. 

sexy, mysterious Benson Blvd. I love the truck bed filled with snow. 

soundtrack: Spiritualized. 

torch-singing "T.B. Sheets"

the dynamic of ravens makes me wonder if that's what having a sibling would be like. 

strange vertical snow-thing. I liked the angles. and its weird solitude! it was all by itself in an empty parking lot. it didn't come from the ground surrounding it. perhaps it was from Heaven. 

I couldn't get this not-blurry, so I decided I fucking liked it this way. 

this house in my neighborhood, it pleases me. 

the purse-ridin' shit-cat. 

yeah... FUCK Devon. jeez, man, why you gotta be that way? DEVON. 

I was disheveled and unshowered and thought trying to capture the shadows from the capiz shell windchime-thing in my window would be a glorious project. 

pure sex. 

anchorage is naturally just a very sexy place, you see. 

I am background noise.

Ship Creek snow-stroll. 

inside the husk of the former Anchor Bar. this was a blind shot. I brightened it by 400% but otherwise enhanced nothing. I like the contrasts. this is probably the only crane in Anchorage right now.  

looking out. 

it's currently warmer here than this would indicate. 

the above window is attached to this most beatific of Quonset huts.  

last night: I was writing with a sharpie and I dropped the cap. I reached down to pick it up. it was just out of my reach and rolling away; I was grabbing blindly with dulled fingers. and I realized I was asleep. something about being aware of my lesser consciousness made me panic. I wondered if this is what dying feels like. I could have channeled this awareness into an awesome flying dream, but instead I forced myself awake and mumbled my name and address out loud to convince myself I was still alive. and then I slept for real.