er...did i mention?

i've dropped anchor.

after a brief stint in yakima at essencia bakery, i've settled back down in good old seattle town. considering my graduation aspirations it might be a while before my wandering stretches much further than the streets between campus and my apartment. how do i still have 2+ years of getting educated when it seems like i have been going to school forever you might ask? believe me, i've been asking myself the same question.

but no worries, i kind of like it here. as long as i have the cash flow keep my nose out of the real world and in the books, i'm happy to take full advantage. if you come and visit i promise to show you pictures of my travels, take you to my favorite coffee shop, and excite (or bore) you with all i'm learning about old-growth forests and international forest management.

on that note i am signing off. after twenty-four cities, six countries, and two continents, my wandering feet are officially kickin' it in washington state.

which is still, by the way, one of my favorite places in the world.

the lima airport is an unholy place

i recently spent 5 hours in the aeropuerto internacional jorge chavez in lima, peru.

FIVE HOURS OF HELL

and i will explain to you why...

so after a lengthy or not so lengthy flight you gracefully land in lima peru with plenty of time to spare to make your connection. you think, oh great! i´ll find my gate, stretch out and relax for a few hours before my next stuffy plane ride. you enter the airport and at first glance it appears to be like any other: tv monitors displaying departures and arrivals, people rushing or meandering from here and there, tacky shops with overpriced food and knick knacks... you get the gist. but after a few minutes you begin to realize something is wrong. you arrive at your gate and you are hoping that it isn´t true.

but it is my friend. it is very true.

DING DING DING la gente del vuelo LAN 431, por favor vaya a la puerta numero 6. gracias. DING DING DING...

and it doesn´t stop. it´s never ending. aparently the people of AIJC don´t think that it´s passangers are capable of reading the tv monitors and figuring out their gate numbers without a constant barrage of verbal reminders. i try to block it out, but it´s at that perfect volume that can´t be ignored. i drift off to sleep and it invades my world of dreams...

...the family is gathered together for holland´s birthday lunch. there is hassle getting everyone seated. ashley announces, "this year we will be eating airline food because it´s holland´s favorite" DING DING DING "oh are we sitting down to eat?" asks grandma potter "because holland and i just finished removing all of the cushions from the chairs." DING DING DING mom says, "will the passangers of flight 529 please make their way to gate number 14"....

AHHHHH!!!!!!!

i wake up in a cold sweat. i search for my ipod in hopes of drowning out the noise with some death metal. the battery is dead. i look at my watch. one hour to go.

the lima airport is an unholy place.

Antarctica revisited: new year´s polar plunge

fourth from the left. the pain is real.

um...

Don´t worry grandpa, i left ecuador

Really grandpa, i promise i am no longer in ecuador

countdown...

i registered for spring quarter today. countdown to plane ride, the states, unpacking my backpack, work, school, t-minus 6 days

useless fact of the day

llamas are communal shitters

home again home again

well sort of.

alana wanders
past moutains streets fronteras
to a gate marked home