Arctic Journal

So, I ended up needing an extra bag to fit all my stuff, which brings the total to 3 plus my laptop. Sigh. However, my boss had a few of the guys bring all my stuff up from my room, which was pretty sweet.

Oh, I almost forgot the caper! So yesterday I was talking to Lee and Newfie Ed and they were talking about putting together a work permit for building a still to see if they can get it signed off. (Of course they’d word it so it sounds like something other than a still.) I was like, what if it passes? Then they build a still, put it and the work permit in the OIM’s office with a note that says, “Read the work permits!”

I had a couple extra items I don’t need and didn’t want to take with me (a new bottle of lotion, a few odds and ends), so I told one of the stewards to tell the girls to take whatever they want. I came back to my room maybe half an hour later and everything was gone. (They are good.)

Right now I’m just waiting for chopper to come. I’m not sure how internet connections will be during my travels (for some reason I can never post while in Inuvik), and I’m still trying to decide just when to finally end this damn thing.

The other day Lee was kind of bragging about all the knots and whatever stuff seaman can do, and also mentioned that he was good at French braiding hair. Of course I was like, French braid, eh? and requested a demonstration, which I cashed in on this morning. It was a bit loose (he kept complaining that he hadn’t done it in a long time), but it was WAY more consistent than anything I’ve ever done.

When I walked into the galley this morning, the gay Eskimo was singing “Don'tcha.” Heh.

So, this morning PB greeted Pat with a tummy-pat. It was awesome. I told him that that’s how we should all greet each other. We agreed that it was definitely an intimate sort of thing.

Otherwise, I think we’re all near the breaking-point. My patience is so thin it’s threadbare.

Ah, boredom – the impetus for so, so many things. I don’t remember what exactly we were talking about, but I somehow got it into my head that I could fit into one of our big company bags. The guys were like, “yeah? Let’s see.” So this is how I find myself attempting to fit into a bag (I made sure it was a new one – not one that had had dirty socks in it for three months or anything). I actually did come pretty close, but ultimately, the opening wasn’t quite big enough and my shoulders couldn’t quite fit. (What? Apparently I’m brawny.) Don’t worry; there are pictures. Of me. Half in the bag... literally.

The days are getting shorter and shorter still. The good news is that you could sleep until noon and still get to see the sunrise… not that I ever sleep past 6. On the plus side, the sunrises have been spectacular. I’ve gotten pictures, but it doesn’t even begin to do it justice. For the past few days the sun has been this intense orange color, brighter than I’ve ever seen it before, and since it’s just ice all around, there’s nothing to compete with it.

So this morning, Pat had just been in the office and we look down and see a butt-print of white paint on the chair in which he’d been sitting. Heh. Three months ago, Woody, one of the seamen, mixed some paint… and it still hasn’t dried. In three months. (Something tells me it’s not going to.) In some ways Pat is kind of like Pigpen. Like, if anyone would sit in wet paint (or however it got on his bum), it would be him.

Since the project is finally winding down, of course my boss has to go and make things more difficult. To address this, PB and I went to talk with ABP to see if maybe he could talk some sense into him. After discussing “the plan,” we ended up talking for a bit and it was actually pretty fun. Almost like having friends… (sigh). Unfortunately, even though we had logic on our side, we underestimated my boss's sheer stubbornness. Thus, I had a very upsetting afternoon.

No Thanksgiving-type items for lunch, and I was ready to be pissed, especially considering that they celebrated the CANADIAN (i.e. fake) Thanksgiving in October. Not to worry, though, there was turkey to be had at supper. With mashed potatoes, and sweet potatoes, and yams, and cranberry sauce, and peas, and corn. And, of course, pumpkin pie. I will say that the sweet potatoes were way tastier than the pie. But at least there was pie.

I can never see the number “227” and not think of Marla Gibbs.

Anyway, a few days ago one of the guys O/B gave me his resume, which is a pretty normal occurrence (being here has definitely been a giant boon for business). However, this guy… well, this guy is half-retarded and I’m amazed that he managed to get as cushy of a job as he’s got. When I told my boss about the resume, even he was like, “I don’t think I want to work with that guy,” and when asked what should be done with said resume, he implied that I could toss it. So, I’m going through a stack of papers today and I show it to PB saying, “Guess I won’t be needing this,” and chuck it in the bin. He calls me mean. I explain to him that nothing, nothing I have seen leads me to believe there’s an ounce of intelligence anywhere in this guy. On top of that, dude is annoying. I explained that sometimes you get cornered talking to him; you try to escape and the whole time you’re talking to him, you’re thinking and trying to figure out how to NOT be talking to him. At the end of my diatribe he busts out with, “I’m so happy!” Of course I then bust out laughing, because that was truly an awesome (and hilarious) response. Proving, of course, that we’re both a little bit mean. Hey, the truth isn’t always nice; in fact, it usually isn’t.

So, today was a vegetarian day, with the exception of a sneaky bite of bacon. (Seriously, who puts bacon in cream of mushroom soup??!!) For lunch it was a choice of meat pie or hot dogs; dinner was fried cod or weird beef with gravy. I chose to make a carrot inuksuk (with a mashed potato base). Pic coming soon.