Well well well. I wish I had a more grandiose excuse or even a passable one. But admittedly I am just lazy! It is the truth. I find myself angry at the end of some days because despite my best intentions I have not achieved what I initially set out to complete that day. This blog post has been one of those things, for a year. I struggled internally with writing anything at all because nothing I wrote was even that funny. Was it worth posting if it was not funny? I can not disappoint all three of my readers, or especially Grace as I wordlessly watch her read this (at gunpoint) moments after I upload it. So what is there to say? Really? I live in Alaska now and have been since May. There are no grand truths to be revealed about living in a mysterious place like this. It is beautiful, and that is why most people like it. Some like it because they are drunk and that is good enough for them. I respect those people. Because if you are going to come into the liquor side of the worlds-smallest-and-most-fluorescent-grocery-store to start today’s handle of Burnett’s. It may as well be in the company of a moose and several free-range dogs. I have written about Alaska on this blog before. It is the last frontier. As the summer sun dips below the horizon and hangs below there until May, the wounds of the state begin to appear more and more against the contrast of its pristine snowfall. It is far from a perfect place. I have met really strange and wonderful people. It puts you closer in touch with your immediate needs more than any other state in the USA ( aside from maybe Delaware, as one of the most fundamental human needs is getting the fuck out of Delaware.) 

Working seasonally in remote Alaska is as everyone expects; dirty, fun and full of semi-hippie millennials. I wish we could dodge the allegations, but we are all the same. It was not a surprise to me that I got along immediately with all my white wanderlusty coworkers who love being outside! Wow, I have the same sandals! There was little to no drama. Days were spent working a lot for a little, eating together, drinking a lot of beer. Paddling to mind-bogglingly beautiful places to eat and drink somewhere else together. I want to throw like one genuine manic bush person or a never-booked EDM DJ or 11 Guatemalan dudes because that’s just what I’m used to. I can work with that. It’s like the episode of Spongebob where Squidward moves to that neighborhood with all the other Squidwards and realizes misery is actually what makes him feel alive. Not to say I won’t be going back, or staying. But if I have to hear about Infinite Jest one more time or have a nostalgic conversation about Twisted Tea I may sink the Kenai Fjords deep into the ocean sooner than scheduled. Is there a solution to this? I don’t really know man. It’s bigger than me, really. There’s not much else to be said about this summer. I lived in a Nat Geo documentary. Salmon ate bears directly out of the water. Seals flew by our heads. Birds calved massive blocks of ice into the water right in front of me. Glaciers dove down from hundreds of feet to reemerge on the surface with three fish in their beaks. I sacrificed a couple of comforts in order to do so but not as many as you’d think; shower a little less, no power in the cabin, internet in one place only and you cannot leave unless you take a long boat ride back. Standing behind the bar and being told nearly every day “I wish I did something like this when I was your age.” did help assuage any second thoughts I had. Granted I had already packed my already few belongings and driven nearly to Russia. Genuinely, it did. If you are reading this and thinking, “Hey that sounds so sweet and rad and I think I wanna do that too.” Then you are white and know all the words to Too Sweet by Hozier. But also, you should! Ask me, and I’ll tell you how. 

I work at THE grocery store in town. The small-town feel is real. Everyone knows each other’s names, the Facebook page is always busy here. This is very new to me. I have never ever known my neighbors before. But I sort of know at least a little bit about everybody now. I had my first real small-town moment the other day; Running into someone I know at the post office and chatting for a little bit about absolutely nothing. Wishing them luck on their vacation and then speaking to the post office worker I also now know. Then walking out and seeing a man I dog sat for. It is strange to lose anonymity in public. I wonder if my world will shrink so much that I can no longer sit alone at bars and order eleven diet cokes silently for two hours without tipping.  There is something cozy and heartwarming knowing there is a community of people here who like to ask me how I or Grace are doing when I run into them. We all go to the same three places so it’s often. They say in Girdwood, if you go somewhere and forget what you were doing just ask someone else. They probably know. The answer is most likely, drinking at 10 am.

THE grocery store has been good to me. It has been a rough ride. I got word that the old manager was fired for the usual. Being a drunk asshole and stealing a lot of stuff. As were many of the old employees. Nowhere else in town was hiring at the time that we moved in and my resort job didn’t start until late November. So in a panic, I took what I could get. It pays $18/hr and is very easy. I began immediately and pay was weekly. It was very funny to me in the beginning. Nobody knew I was starting or even coming in that day. I arrived one day and they were surprised. I was oriented to the most pointless task that could be assigned to a human: Take everything off the shelf so that I can put it back on the shelf again. I did this for 8 hours. My mind nearly melted. But I would make rent and that is all that matters. I worked the next day. Again, my manager was surprised to see a breathing human in the store and told me to follow someone around for a while. So I did. His name is Rob. Rob is a great, Alaska-grown, grocery store middle manager. He has lots to say and will say it all day to you constantly and immediately. I learned that Rob HATES Lesley. Lesley is the middle manager of the middle management. She is passive-aggressive and loves to find pointless tasks for new employees to do, so I did them. Because who cares anyway? Now. It was after the third day that I began to be a little confused. Hardly anyone had asked or remembered my name, knew I was coming, or spoke to me at all. It was clear to me nobody had absolutely any idea of my past experience when Rob spent two hours talking directly at me about the differences in the wines we sell. To this day they still don’t know.  I truly believe there is no job that is below me. Except for this one. I am truly ashamed when people I know see me behind the counter here. I apologize to them directly for having to see me like this. To those who don’t live here, all I can say is, you’d understand if you were here. When I tell my friends where I’m working for the time being they say, “Oh man, there? Are you sure nobody else was hiring?”

“Do you like it there?”

Well, yes. I do. Not the grocery store. But living in Girdwood is in a sense magical. The scenery from my window is something I would have robbed a Subway for at any other time in my life. The access to the backcountry and the resort is incredible. We are still a reasonable drive away from town and can save a little on groceries and essentials by making the trip. We can go to restaurants or the climbing gym. Not to mention when ski season starts I have one of the best jobs at the resort, and a 5 minute walk to the ski lift. So what the HELL am I complaining about!?!???!? Nothing really. It’s great. It’s as great as I expected it to be. This was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Because I am the best. This just doesn’t have the same ring to it. But it is the truth. It is easy to see me wanting to keep a part of myself in Alaska forever. Despite its flaws. Of which I didn’t speak much on (other than the alcoholism) because they’re well covered and by much smarter people. If you’d like to hear stuff about them just listen to them. I mostly wanted to update anyone willing to read on how this has been and to prove to myself that I could shake off these cobwebs and maybe write one worthwhile chuckle.

Sorry if this is short, more to come soon.

– Me