Only girl Kayaker to Finish AWS Paddlesport, Twice!

Potomac River, June 20-25_As Trynn Diesel descended into her sea-kayak from Anacostia Park, a herd of reporters and cameramen rushed to have a quick interview with her. "Will you finish the expedition?", "Are you nuts?", "What the hell?", "Who are you trying to prove?" "Why!?" She broke out a Shit towne song, "the weavers live up the street from me. the crackheads, they live down the street from me the tall grass makes it hard to see beyond my property hey man, this is criminal...". Hooray for randomness.

No seriously, so I'm back from my sea-kayaking expedition, and I got to thinking--WHY!? why did I put myself through the torture? Besides my monthly curse of a woman on this trip, I thought I was very fortunate that the Potomac R was quite gentle this year. Not much action; except when I damned near killed myself by paddling behind the 2-ton life buoy that was moored to the bottom -- during a tropical t-storm! The floater looked like it was torpedoing straight at me. Gabriel afterwards said I must've had a death wish. It was more like a stupid act really. At the Aqualand Marina, we landed to refill our water bladder bags. I witnessed an execution in the nicest way possible. Just like the reality show, Survivor John M. was voted off on the count that he was lagging far behind from the flock. I figured he was disrespecting Bubba's authority; thus, he must be executed. I felt so bad that we made a 68-year-old man cried. The decision was prudent though. There was no telling if we had hit three to four feet waves the next day or run into another tropical summer storm (like last summer), that we would lose someone. At any rate, the guilt is still lingering on to me cuz from that archaic point, the river was silky smooth and quiet, and John M. would've made it. Then again, we never knew that the water was so forgiving.

My favorite camp site was Chapman's Forest. I must say, I was spoiled at nature's wealth. Thank you Governor Glendening for saving Chapman's beautiful wonders. At Douglas's Point, Jon and I cooked spagetti with tofu sausages (from MOM's organic food store) for eight hunger paddlers. I spent half an hour looking for shark teeth, and I found seven fossilized bony appendages. I'm making necklaces out of them now. Lower Cedar Point had an unwelcoming giant dumpster, but Bubba insisted that we stay there for the night. At that time, I was in a shitty mood. The dinner made by the so-call ex-food critic trained from France was the worse piece of crap that entered my mouth. I put so much salt in my bowl of tasteless lentels and beans as I had ever put before. To hell with health, I had to eat the lentels full of salt grains. Then, out of the setting sun came a hot dude on a jetski. Thank heavens for fine-abbed men! His Kawasaki jet-ski needed maintenance, so he used Jim's cell to call base for assistance. Help never came, so he chatted with us for awhile and decided to fix the motor himself. The engine roared a bit, but it was moving very slowly. He waved goodbye, and that's the end of that. I almost had tears in my eyes (ha! yeah right). They destroyed my tower at St. Clement's Island. I'm no longer queen of the island like last year. I had to set my tent with the hypocritical beings on the low grounds. Captain Jack Russel's old skipjack was such a welcoming view. I had crab cakes and three Bud Lites. I found my favorite hidden spot among the boulders reading my book, Atlas Shrugged, and enjoying the view of the nesting ospreys. I found myself watching the stars with another can of beer. I don't recall when I fell asleep on the deck of the ship, but I remembered that I had identified several constellations and counted a dozen shooting stars. Then I got to thinking. Gosh, I am lonely and pathetic. I knew that thinking never leads to any good, so I drank my last sip of beer and passed out. That was the last night of our expedition.

There were no ticks drilling my bottocks, thank goodness. There were no big storms in our way. Though, I kinda missed the action. This trip overall was a spiritual journey for me. I exorcised a demon or two within me. I have to remind myself that shits happen. Mistakes are made and we learn from them. We can't make others love and understand us until we learn to love ourselves. (Geesh! those bazooka gum messages are catching on to me) Anyhow, catch me on the next stride of life.

Oh yeah, if you have furnitures for me. Drop me an e-message, and I'll evaluate and take the give-aways from ya. Tootles.

Paddle to the Bay

I am crazy. Tomorrow at 5:00am I'm paddling to the edge of the earth. I had a couple of beers just to feel numb about it all. Anyhow, I'll keep you posted when (or if) I get back. The number one rule we have to follow is following the tidal flow. Do not go against the tide, it's verboten! Ok, I need to get some rest. But here is the schedule that we'll follow:

Monday: leave Anacostia, DC
Tuesday: Indian Head
Wednesday: Clifton Beach
Thursday: Lower Cedar Point
Friday: St. Clements Island
Saturday: St. George Island, to Point Lookout State Park and the Chesapeake Bay.

In the mean time, visit The Anacostia Watershed Society who hosted the 120 mile paddling trip. Wish me luck and try to talk me out of it (opps, too late). Last year, I wanted to prove someone wrong. I don't know why the hell I'm coming back to suffer again.

Blogging While Drunk

No seriously. I'm a little buzzed, but I have to get this out of my chest: After four years of college (at a five year plan), I'm working at a nail salon! Haha. Only until I find a job though, and even then, I'll still be working at the shop to make ends meet. Shhhh! Some moola under the table. Don't tell my "friends" at the IRS. It's not much since I've decided to demote myself from a nail technician to a meesly receptionist at $30/day in a 12hr shift. Long story. Let's just say that I made my customers fainted (strike 1). Not by dehydration from the heat outdoors. Not by the kids screaming. Not by the buff and the bluff and I'll blow your house off with my chilly chin chin. But by the sight of blood I made on myself. Way to collect client-tel! My mother is so pissed off at me for working at the salon, and she's gonna have dad kick my ass with the silent treatment (strike 2). Eh! It's better to be pissed off than to be pissed on.

Anyhow, I had a great time with Steph, Hong, Will and Jason last night. I played moose for the first time. All we need was a bowl, a quarter and an ice tray. The left side of the tray be "give" (you give out drinks), the right side for "take" (you take the drinks or is it the other way around). If the quarter goes in the moose bowl, you must look like a moose. Last person to make their respective Moose part drinks. It gets very funny. I had three community bowls! ech! Watch out for the quarter in the beer if it lands in the bowl and you have to drink it! its a doosie if you forget! We Gettysburgians are gonna raise the roof, baby (in DC/Maryland)! I miss G'burg already.

I have no interesting links tonight. I read a Washington Post article while at work (strike 3). I'm glad that the Senate is passing an apology for the anti-lynching laws that was too late for what had happened in the last century. I almost cried at how people could made a social event out of such atrocities to African Americans. At any rate, there are so many flaws in our system, past and present. We just need to face the reality and mend our mistakes. Peak oil is still in the back of my mind, but that's gonna be another thorough blog when I'm not so tipsy. Take care ya'll.

Graduation pics

Graduation pics are in. The commencement speaker said the future is mine. Perhaps now is the time to launch my plan to TOTAL WORLD DOMINAION! Bwah hah ha ha!

I can't believe they actually let me pass with a 3.0 GPA. I remembered way back in freshman year, Patrick Hall 203 was a great place. My (four year) roommate Shmeedog would watch the SAE boys climb the pole from our room or yell to people on the sidewalk from our window only to hide when they look up. Oh the memories, the Red Sox games, the walks of shame (or the stides of pride?) the forbidden beirut table and Jack Bauer Power hour. Then it all has to end. My Bio and ES majors are nothing but four years of wasted stress. But the memories of friends and dramas live on. Ghettosburg rocks. Enjoy the photos.

Frightening. I'll be on my own in just a few months.

Up-to-date (6/6/06):

Sorry folks, I just realized I had posted my pictures on this post, which defied my pseudonymy and compromised my "identity" and my friends. You'll see the photos when you come to my house. Come at your own risk. I have a ferocious K-9 with terrible mandibles of bone crushing death.

Hello World!

This is my first weblog. I dunno why I'm publishing this log. No one will read my rants and nonsense, but if you must know, I'm keeping this journal strictly to let my friends read/view/criticize what life is like after G'burg. I have been busy lately, but no major police business, just a couple of traffic tickets. I drove Katy Le and her cargo van full of stuff to NYC the other day. Did you read what I just typed? New York City! I despise the traffic in Manhattan. Don't get me wrong, NYC is a great model for sustainable living with energy efficient way of life, but the people, the PEOPLE! they're everywhere!! they don't seem to phase anything, not even my V8 Enterprise Cargo van, which I found that the price was reasonable for long distant moving. Anyhow, we went to a sushi bar for dinner with New Yorker friend
Osamu. I had quite a bit of sake and Japanese beer. I wanted to try them all. Why not? The bar was having a promotion at 50% off on everything. The night was young, and I was a bit tipsy already. I insisted that we run to the train station so that I could sober up and talk loudly so that I could sweat off the rice wine. It worked! I could drink myself sober, but it's probably not a good idea in the long run.

In other news, I'm looking to move out of my family's 2-room apartment. I feel bad that my dad has moved to the couch so that I could take the bed. I'm feeling pretty awful because choosing a place to live is tough. Landlords and landladys turning me down. I have $2,000 in the bank. Oh wait, after that NYC trip, it's down to $1k. I love traveling broke. There are so many creative and most memorial things your mind can do. I have no real job, just helping Tammy 3 days a week at the Nails Salon. I'm waiting for an interview with the DC Fisheries and Wildlife division. Keeping my fingers crossed. Ok, enough of my ranting. Back to more Japanese anime.

Later ya'll.