Suburban Adventure

I woke up in time to pack and meet Chris.  I put my necessities bag which could have contained a baby rhino next to his which could have barely fit two squirrels.  Our first stop was to Panera bread to make a map.  This was a process of using, of all things, Bing Maps, over mediocre Wifi to plot out destinations.  Our draft route hadn’t changed much from the one we threw together some number of months ago.  Next we went to REI to realize that they held almost nothing for us.  Walmart was the motherlode.  We exited with a propane stove, a pan that somehow cost $4, tuna fish cans, oatmeal, trail mix, and a styrofoam container that seemed as resilient as a soap bubble.  Our final stop was a Radioshack so I could buy a microusb cable and I paid $15.00 for it through gritted teeth.  That was literally 1000% percent the price of something similar on Monoprice and briefly wondered if I could have something overnighted to a National Park.

We drove north towards Zion and I promptly nodded off.  Chris and I went to Panda Express, I for the first time, and we drove again towards Zion.  Once again, I nodded off waking while in the line of vehicles to get to Zion.  Zion is cut through by Utah State Route 9.  We traveled it from entrance to exit and this is what it looked like.

Every aspect of the park said “time”. The stratification of the rocks, the plants growing between millenium-old cracks, sheep that seemed to view us as just a blip on the radar. I was fine with a sense of elsewhere.

We returned to visitor center and learned that no campsites were available at the main camping area but that Lava Point, some 45 minutes away, held six unmonitored campsites that may or may not have space. We shrugged our shoulders and headed to lava point.

The ride to Lava Point reminded me of how little I know. I didn’t know the names of the microclimes we went through each with their unique mixture of tree, shrub, and grasses. I didn’t know what the rocks were, or how to name or identify the strata. I didn’t know what the types of erosion were nor what caused them and even the massive chasms in the ground were a mystery to me. Physicists may see their science everywhere, and as a trained chemist I feel I get extra context to the supermarket, but geologists are the closest to an extra sense. They can see time and here I was envious of their second sight. What stories did they know that I didn’t and how could I learn them?

We reached Lava Point and there was a single open campsite. We set up, talked, and prepared our first meal of good night sausage. Considering the thermodynamics of the pan and the thickness of the sausage, I may have trichinella but the sausage was good.

I tried to take pictures of the stars with no luck and settled into the tent where my air mattress took up probably 75% of the available floor space. Chris hadn’t tried to kill me and was graceful in the size of my footprint. It was nice to see him again and I hoped soon I’d remember how to talk to him. We had many days for that though. In the meantime, sleep.

Return

I’ve not posted since before my birthday. I am sorry. Suburbanadventure.com was conceived as a test of the statement “something interesting, notable, or funny happens to me everyday.” I think this claim applies to most with a little inspection. Then again, I seem to have some traits that incline my life toward oddity. I argue with people in the public square, talk to customer service representatives, ask personal questions of my coworkers and friends of friends, and generally treat people with trust rather than suspicion. This last characteristic sets me up for disappointment but rarely harm and has opened me to meeting nice people in strange places.

So why no posts? A few things.

Recovery

In May of this year I was diagnosed with a brain injury. The side effects of this have been considerable and have upturned much of my life due to its side effects. I’d love to write something to the tune of “thanks guys, I’m better now” but that doesn’t appear to be in the cards. I have what seems to be a competent team providing me with medical support as well as a network of friends who proved supportive.

Alec – For letting a strange man hug you.
Janine – For being anti-fragile.
Suzie – For dealing with a room mate whose personality seemed chosen daily by a roulette wheel.
Ashley – For asking “how’s your brain?”
Paul – For sharing your struggle.
Pat – For being my personal physician.
Clara – For being an actual physician.
Ben – For never being talked out.
Chris – For getting it.
Dad, Mom, Ryan – I have no evidence that you’re even aware of the existence of this blog, but we seem to be closest when things are worst. Some families are torn apart by strife while we seem galvinized by it.

The above are understatements quite simply but they are starts. I hope I can show reciprocity should any of my friends find themselves in a similar place of need. Only recently have I started to get my feet under me and I feel like I’m functioning between 60-70% capacity of what I could be doing. This feels wildly frustrating to me after a streak of successes in becoming closer to who I wished to be. Now I’m in the curious place of wishing to be who I once was.

Relocation

On June 1st I moved from Feasterville to West Philadelphia. It’s a lovely apartment I now share with two other people. My commute takes about 10 minutes yet I still find ways to be late to work. “Suburban Adventure” seems to no longer fit. City Life doesn’t yet make sense to me. I miss the smell of petrichor when it rains, I miss running my car at high speeds for uninterrupted stretches, I miss the near perfect quietude of having my house in Feasterville to myself, and I miss coming home to a place whose nooks and crannies hold no secrets to me. On the flip side, I like having something to do every evening, access to the cumulative cultural power of 2.2 million people, and the beauty of the unfolded urban landscape is its own type of breathtaking on a fine day. The kinesis of an urban center is hard to match.

Maybe once I understand the cadence of this place I’ll have something to say.

Realignment

This site has also functioned as a repository of happiness. I may be jolly but I am rarely happy. Blog posts and photos prevent me from ignoring the roaring good life I’m having by most people’s standards but there has been a change of tenor recently. Many of my recent happinesses are private as they depend on interactions with people I may not wish to share. I live with few personal secrets but I don’t wish to presume that of others.

So, what next? I’m not entirely sure.

The cumulative length of all my posts combined is some 425k words. This is signficantly longer than most novels and clocks in at about 80% the length of Infinite Jest. The posts I have enjoyed the most are travelogues and the ridiculous. The former has proven to be satisfying and I hope to continue this practice in some form. The latter have largely moved to Facebook and face-to-face conversations. The interaction from Facebook is hard to beat although I missed having total ownership of my own words. Maybe I’ll start cross-posting.

Reflection

Nothing has ever happened to me until I told someone about it. I’m an extrovert and I feel that most of friends tend to be introverts. When many are outgoing, I feel few require people to recharge in the same way I do. Text, Skype, etc don’t seem to scratch this itch which has proven troublesome as not being able to talk at the end of my workday has proven problematic.

I tend to lose weight when I’m traveling by myself and gain it when I’m traveling with other people.

Exercise in no way helps me blow off steam. In fact, if I’m bothered or am having a bad day, exercise is the last thing I want to do as it’ll only let me stew.

Whenever I’m not sure where I should eat, I should just find the nearest Subway.

Sleep seems to almost always be the best way to spend my time.

400 calories of carbohydrates in 2 hours or less will generally make me nappy.

The people in my life have a much higher turnover rate than I thought they did. The three people closest to me hasn’t been consistent for any stretch of time greater than four or five months. I’m not sure if this indicates something but I know of seek a certain permanence from those around me. This is utterly futile. Around this core is a ring of friends that seems to be much more stable. Maybe I should spend more time here.

Farce is a type of fuel. The ridiculous makes me feel alive.

Recession

My train is approaching 30th street and I’ll be on my way to Atlanta for Dragon*con in under two hours. TTFN as all the kids say.