Leaving Entropia

It seems appropriate that I throw one more post into the mix before the year ends. It’s Dec 31, and while I’ve gained a couch and a TV, PXL_20211230_180514496my belongings are still sitting in Seattle due to bad weather. I’ve been wearing the same 10 items of clothing for roughly 2 months now, and I am super tired of eating off of paper plates and drinking wine out of a jar I shoved into my bag before I left my parents’ house. I’m disappointed but not surprised, and my compartmentalization-friendly brain is very sad at the prospect of finishing this move in the new year instead of coming into the new year with the process completed. Since the moving company has not fulfilled their contractual obligation, I’m going to begin processing delay claims on Monday and squeeze them for every penny they’ll reimburse for. All said and done, my stuff is scheduled for delivery on Jan 8. I can only hope these pussies can find some snowflake-free days to get moving. I’m not a materialistic person, but it’d be nice to put my stuff in my house and have the rest of my clothes and real dinner plates ffs.

I could complain about the experience of being here alone for the entire holiday period, but in the grand scheme of things, I only have first-world problems at this point. I’ve spent many holidays alone, and this is just another one; the fact that I’m waiting on someone else is what is the most frustrating part. houseofbreadI wake up every morning and take the dog for a long walk iN tHe SuNsHiNe which blows my mind. After all the hassle of getting her paperwork in order, we walked out of her breed evaluation with a “mixed breed” categorization, which will save me a lot of trouble in the long run (she is not a “mixed breed,” but if they say she is, I’ll take it). I’ve hit Costco twice, which is only a few miles from me, and despite not being an electronics-oriented person, I marveled at the prospect of owning what to me is a giant (58″) TV for under $500. I bought patio furniture, since it’s sit-outside weather 90% of the year. I bought morning glory seeds for the spring, since that will come sooner than I am accustomed to. I spent some time browsing European delis in Aurora, and I made it to House of Bread, where I found some OK Adjarian khachapuri and some meat-stuffed khinkali. I learned a hard lesson in Anchorage: that I am woefully homesick without a deli where I can get the weird shit I grew up eating (primarily golubtsi), and I’ve hit half my list already, with excellent results. One of the girls at the second one I stopped at (Black Sea Market) told me to just call her and ask for what I want: each employee is from a different country and they’ll make whatever I need. I nearly burst into tears.

The flight cancelations forced my former roommate from Anchorage to be stuck here overnight last night, and we spent the afternoon and evening together, and in typical fashion had an amazing — foodtruly amazing — meal right down the street. It also was a good excuse to drive around a bit: for whatever reason, every time I come back down here I feel anxiety about driving, which is absurd after spending the first 28 years of my life in NJ, NY and Boston. It was good to get out on the road, though the 4Runner will mostly stay parked until I can swap my tires.matt

I’m very grateful that he was laid over here, and another long-time friend of mine has been in town for the holidays visiting his family; he’s helped me put some shit together and fix my washing machine and it’s kind of amazing the extent to which a small bit of familiarity can be so comforting. I’m lucky to have had both of these guys here: the latter has been working in a remote area in Alaska for the past few years and I have not seen him nearly as much as I used to (he, my friend who moved to Idaho and I were inseparable when we were all living in the same town). I feel very loved. One thing I noticed about Alaska is especially in the past few years, it takes a trip down here to realize what kind, loving people I have in my life; people who truly make me feel special. Now I am “down here” to stay.

Maybe it’s that aspect of this week — how much just having a small amount of human company is worth — that has forced me to reflect on 2021, which has been the loneliest year of my life. It took me some time to really evaluate that designation as I have come up on some seriously hard times over the years. I think I could draw a parallel between being lonely and being poor (I hate that word, “poor,” so we’ll use “growing up modestly”). We didn’t have much when I was a kid; for whatever reason it was totally fine because that’s all we knew, and everyone else around us was in the same boat. We were happy with what we had. And maybe it’s that when I think back to the other lonely periods of my life, I didn’t know how much better it would get for me: I didn’t know that in my 20s and 30s I’d develop friendships with people who were closer to me than my own family. I didn’t know that I would meet people I would want to call when I was hurt or sad or afraid; I had no idea what it was like to be close to people, to want people around, to ask people for help, to want anyone near me for comfort. I learned that much later than is typical. And I think the lack of comparison took the edge off those hard times.

2021 was a brutal year. The end of 2020 was horrible, too. You can really only find so much silver lining without contending with how horribly depressing life is at times. On paper, everything was fine; I kept myself entertained with projects, I held onto my job, and I channeled all of my grief and suffering into being exemplary at work, which certainly paid off. None of those things lessened the emotional toll of being as isolated as I was; I worked from home, I did not see another human for days and sometimes weeks at a time. Last winter was so cold I could not even walk the dog regularly. I developed horrible insomnia that doubled my waking hours, and every day was the same. That kind of routine, being home all the time, not being able to go anywhere, feeling trapped, being cut off from my close friends (most of whom lived thousands of miles away) was hell for someone like me. My roommate, who became one of my closest friends over the past few years, was in Iraq for months at a time, and only came home for a few weeks before he was recalled. I was afraid for my parents’ health, as well, and felt helpless.

It doesn’t help that I’ve been told many times in my life that I make hard things look easy: I am a pragmatic person, and rarely show much emotion to people I don’t know. This has cursed me with a lack of empathy and consideration from other people, as it’s easy to forget I have feelings when I don’t express them. I think many people — even people who truly care for me — just assumed I was OK and would get through it. I am not sure how to address this or to resolve it in the future. I tried to articulate this issue with my new leadership team peers at my company, and despite expressing this meticulously, they still made the same mistake, and in I went to the meat grinder during this move, with zero concern for my feelings or what emotional toll it takes to conduct this kind of move alone in such a short period of time.

I didn’t start my adulthood as someone who forged strong bonds with other people. In fact, I would say it took a lot of energy and effort to become the kind of person who could be vulnerable enough to let other people in. But given my challenging relationship with my family, it occurred to me that I needed to build some kind of support system of people who truly loved me for who I was. I found that in college and afterwards.

My father told me when I was visiting that he believes the pandemic was the nail in the coffin of my Alaska life. I would say that’s maybe partially true: I could not reconcile the isolation I chose and the additional isolation the pandemic foisted onto me. I will never forget the weeks and months I spent up there last winter wondering if anyone would even realize if I were dead, gone forever, and that wasn’t due to anyone’s dubious intent… I was just too far away. I felt like a ghost. I felt like the bus left and I was still standing at the station. Everyone else was gone.

In some ways the pandemic presented a lot of truth: some people I had maintained faith and trust in completely failed to materialize in any way whatsoever, or even reach back out to me when I reached out to them. Some others who should have shown up to be present in my life found more entertaining, fulfilling ways to pass the time. It reminded me of how resilient I can be, as I had a plan before it even got bad, and I managed to get through that first winter without getting fat or drinking too much or making life choices that would’ve made my suffering worse. I hearkened back to my childhood and drew a lot of comfort from books; I planned out my future. I saved a lot of money.

I realized I have a flaw that has created a whole world of suffering for me: I see people for their potential, not who they are, and as a good friend has said many times, “people will always let you down.” They will let you down a lot more if you see them as better than they are. This one flaw of mine has created so much suffering in my life, and the time I have spent waiting for some people to show up for me could have been invested in good people who already do. I am a pretty skeptical and discerning person, but I take people at their word and am excessively idealistic and it has led to such immense hurt and disappointment, and all of that has been needless. For that reason, one of my top priorities here is to recreate the strong bonds I had in my life prior to Alaska, which is not exactly a hub of the socially inclined.

I took a huge loss when my one friend moved to Idaho as well: moreso than the pandemic, that might’ve been the actual nail in the proverbial coffin for me, especially with all that followed after she had relocated. And most recently, after being so deathly ill (I was so sick, I shared with someone recently, that my fingernails all peeled off… I have not ever encountered such extensive physical degradation in my life, even during prolonged hyperthyroidism, I actually thought I might die and I was so delirious I didn’t even care… I played through the entire Game of Thrones series on my TV 24h a day just to feel like I wasn’t going to die alone in the dark), then accepting this job and doing this entire move alone have made this year so harrowingly, unprecedentedly lonely, I don’t even think I am capable of fully articulating it.

I am also sad to lose all of the PTO I didn’t use in 2021; I barely took any time off. I took a few days when my wonderful friends from New York were visiting for my birthday, and I took a week and change off to go to Myrtle Beach and Mexico… but I should have carved out more time to prioritize myself over my job. Instead I’ve squandered the holiday week waiting, and in lieu of any real vacation, I’ve committed to drive out to Myrtle Beach with the dog in March or April to enjoy my reclaimed privilege of driving to other states. Ironically I did what I hate in 2021: I surrendered personal time for money. If I hadn’t moved and needed that money to make my new situation exceedingly comfortable, I would feel more regret.

In any case, while this move hasn’t been quite as emotional as I might have hoped, and I feel neither triumph nor regret, I think I am moving in the right direction. I already feel I have more of a support network here than I did in Anchorage. As the days and weeks pass and I fully move in and get settled I believe I will be very happy here. I feel little beyond “I made the right choice,” and that’s good enough at this point; I think it’s important to recognize my mistakes as the year ends, and the instances where I’ve dragged things out hoping for better outcomes when I should have let them die. And maybe it’s important to assume some of the blame for my own loneliness: when my friend moved to Idaho, I gave up on forging new bonds, and I devoted too much time to trying to breathe life into things that were hopeless, and I feel I’m ready to excel in 2022 in my life in its entirety, at work, at home, socially, alone, intellectually, emotionally, etc.

Thanks to those of you who read this and have been here for me. The ones who truly care for me, who have gone out of your way to foster our friendship. I think no one will ever know how little I had at the beginning of all of this, but I know. Will & Hannah, I hope your little IGA repairs its roof soon… yikes. Alaska has been getting slammed with bad weather (real, legitimate bad weather), especially the Interior.

This is the post the end of this process deserved. I still wonder at what point I am totally going to break down and sob through the hardship of all of this… maybe when I am unpacking my own shit and it fully hits me that I just moved back across the country, and closed a hugely formative chapter of my life to begin another.

Hallelujah

I think I might finally be, roughly, in the right frame of mind to post something in here. It’s been awhile, and many nerve-wracking weeks have passed, but I’m typing this on a TV tray, from a camping chair, with radioactively bright sunshine streaming in all the windows of my awesome Denver abode.

Today, Dec 23, is the first day I don’t feel stressed out, and I have very little to actually accomplish for the rest of the year. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’m grateful the pavement is too warm for my studded tires, and my dog won’t get her pit bull permit until next week, and I will be doing mostly nothing for the holidays. I finished building the final piece of furniture I had ordered this morning: yesterday I had booze delivered to my doorstep for the first time ever, which was pretty exciting, and had my internet turned on (which costs a fraction of what it costs in Alaska, and is at least 10x faster). I did what I could in advance to make my experience less frustrating, and that was a good call.

Departing Alaska was easy enough, or it seems so in hindsight… I left the same day my furniture was loaded into crates and flew overnight to Denver for a few days in the office, which were surprisingly pleasant. They were long days, but I accomplished a lot. I’m disappointed overall with the lack of support and understanding I’ve received from my employer through this relocation, but I do think I’ll be happy in the office, and will do well in this role. Their handling of my role transition & relocation has made me wonder if I really want to spend many more years working for this company, but we’ll see. The lack of comprehension of how far I was actually moving made the first 6 weeks particularly grueling and stressful. I feel I should have had more time, space and understanding, and in the end there was no room left for any emotion. My departure was anticlimactic. That said, I’ll be back in June, and it’s not a forever goodbye. I suspected that I have completely compartmentalized my feelings about this entire ordeal, and that was confirmed yesterday when a former boss of mine finally asked me how this all felt and there were tears via Zoom.

I actually don’t think anyone can really comprehend what it was like to do this so fast, in the winter, with massive headwinds, as a single person, with a dog who can’t fly, having to work the entire time in a different timezone, but it would’ve helped to feel like someone gave a shit. I haven’t felt much of that: my experience thus far in my life has been that the world protects, shields and empathizes with the weak, and strong people are just assumed bulletproof and often hung out to dry and/or left to fend for themselves. The single advantage I’ve had through this process is that no one has ever cared about my feelings, so I am used to it. I would say this experience also reminded me of my own life choices and what it’s like to do everything entirely alone.

After my office time, I continued back to PA, NY and NJ for a week+, where I worked every weekday I was there, but managed to see some friends and spend some time with my parents. 2021-12-23_11-49-19I flew back here on Monday. Fuji left Anchorage a day late, but showed up on time, and I met her in the 4Runner at the airport. She has been sleeping practically since we got here, and I think this was a pretty rough move for her. Despite the face-melting expense of her transport, I am really grateful she’s with me, and she will eventually benefit enormously from the much more mild weather.

I’ve slowly been settling in and letting derp face acclimate for the past few days, and I will be very happy here when I am fully settled. My cost of living has doubled, at least, as a result of this move, but my neighborhood is quiet (particularly at night) and working from home part-time (possibly more, as omicron could push our return to office plans back) will make the expense worthwhile.

I’ve missed living alone as well, and I am overjoyed to soon be surrounded by my own things again. lrI’ve spent the last few years with very low living expenses, and some of those savings have been invested in slowly acquiring nice things that will stay with me for many years. The smartest thing I did for myself during this move was to stow a huge Caucasian rug in the trunk underneath the cargo liner, and it’s amazing to have it spread out here now in this living room… I’ve been sitting on some of these items for years unable to utilize them. My landlord and a friend I have here from work were super helpful to me, dragging stuff that arrived early into the house or garage. Some other friends of friends have continually checked in on me, and I feel like I will eventually be able to build the kind of social network here I never was able to completely construct in Alaska.

I had expected to get here and have more to say about the nearly ten years I spent up there, and to have more emotions in general, but it’s all just too fresh to really have much to offer. I think I would feel differently (or perhaps would not have done what I did and left) if I didn’t own a house up there, and there is a sense of relief in still being rooted in AK.

For the time being, I’m enjoying how much easier life is down here, the quality of the roads and the friendly weather. I think a vast majority of Americans do not appreciate how much convenience they have built into their lives. I feel no self-pity over being here alone for the holidays… I have a thick biography of Gorbachev to read and plenty of podcasts and audiobooks. It’s been a crazy year, I didn’t take nearly enough time off and it has ended in a chaotic way, but 2022 should be pretty A-OK.

Arranging The Year

Last week was a productive one, and surprisingly I managed to button up final arrangements for this move. Now that I’m working through the packing process, I feel more confident about being able to make all of this happen without any egregious cost overruns. I probably own more things now than I have at any earlier point in time, though it’s not nearly as much as a typical person my age… nonetheless I have been freaking out about how to successfully move everything and stay under the weight limit on my freight quote. Beginning to pack has made me feel a lot better. I think I can actually do this, on this insane timeline, without any nervous breakdowns. Two weeks from today, in fact, my shit will be crated and awaiting a ship; one month from now I’ll already be in Denver to stay.

Unfortunately my end of year/holiday plans have been completely foiled by this process: after thinking about it for a long time and meticulously costing out various options, I decided to use Alaska Pet Movers to transport Fuji and my 4Runner instead of dealing with that task myself. The price tag on this alone consumes almost half of my relocation payout, which is a bit more than I had intended to pay; that said, it’s saving me almost two weeks of time to delegate it to someone else. Her ETA in Denver was the nail in the coffin of my Christmas: there is a mass exodus taking place in Alaska, combined with this supply chain crisis, and there is limited availability logistically, so I will be in Denver for good a few weeks earlier than I had originally anticipated. The dilemma of how-to the dog has been exponentially more stressful than worrying about myself and my own shit… I’m perfectly fine living out of a duffel bag, by the seat of my pants, for as long as I need to, though I realize I’m getting to an age where I prefer to sleep in a bed and eat off of actual plates instead of slumming it like I used to.

I believe I will enjoy this job more when I am not in Alaska working on Mountain Time, waking up well before the crack of dawn, and not having to juggle moving in tandem. My life actually feels nightmarish at times right now, I spent half of yesterday in Wasilla waiting for my truck to be winterized and it was depressing to come back in the dark and realize I blew one whole day off on another slew of administrative tasks.

I caught a lucky break in terms of transporting my belongings, after calling upwards of ten moving companies in Anchorage, all of whom told me it’d take 8-12 weeks for delivery. I found one moving company with space for a small load on a ship departing on the 8th of December, so loading day is December 6th. This date in turn will complicate the week I had planned to be in the office, so I will be flying overnight straight into the office on the 7th, then continuing onto the Northeast for a few days before I head back to meet the dog. I feel my hand is forced by all of these elements, I am definitely not leaving on my own terms, and I am pretty disappointed in my employer for showing such ignorance with regard to how far away I live from my final destination… expecting me to be in the office after a red-eye is pretty extreme for a company that prides itself on work-life balance. I’ve spent a fair amount of time articulating my boundaries but I will probably lose this singular battle and have to suck it up.

The long term gains of being fully settled in by 2022 are worth the short term disappointment: I’m hoping to fully maximize my time at the end of the year, and a part of that is my shit showing up in a timely manner, which is TBD. At the very least, given my early arrival, I’m hoping I can manage to time the delivery of a couch adequately, and acquire other items I need quickly, many of which have been pre-selected: I’ve enjoyed planning out my new living quarters after living with someone whose downstairs looks like a hotel… the only personality in this house I live in is (a) my bedroom and (b) the patio in the summer. I’ve loved my years living with my roommate and I’ll miss him, but I would be lying if I said I am not very much looking forward to living alone again. AND I’m moving back to the land of Overstock.com, Prime 2-day delivery and the unbelievable ability to order whatever you want without having to read fine print on the shipping page. You people have no idea how good you have it… and soon, I will have it too.

RE: my dog, she requires more paperwork for this move than the rest of it combined, and I’m hoping I show up to get her “Breed Restricted Permit” with everything I need so there is no drama there. I’m disappointed in Denver for showing such an absurd amount of prejudice for one breed category: the owner of a Belgian Malinois, a German Shepherd or a Rottweiler needs almost no paperwork, and requires no special permit. Because she’s a rescue, I have to really dig for some of her documents. The sheer cost in terms of time and money to transport a pit bull from Alaska to Colorado is unsightly and it’s given me quite a bit of empathy for people who have no choice but to leave their animals behind… I am pretty grateful I can afford to bring her with me, and not everyone is that fortunate.

I am annoyed by virtually all of these things, but I imagine that as more steps are completed I will feel less disheartened, and I’ll be happy to be there when I get there as long as I can create minimal comfort for myself prior to my belongings showing up. I hustled all summer expecting to have a few weeks with friends and family at the end of the year and that is definitely not going to happen, but I continue to remind myself that in the long run this is for the best. Absolute best case scenario, my belongings show up quickly (in 3 weeks instead of 4) and I am fully settled by the time the new year rolls around.

I expect to write again before I head out, and hopefully I can find some time to collect my thoughts on the last 9.5 years of my life up here. As I told a friend last night, I don’t really feel like this is a goodbye forever kind of thing; it actually feels pretty anticlimactic in many ways. I’m keeping my house, I’ll be back in June, it feels as though I am departing for a period of time that is at this point TBD. Maybe I’ll feel differently when I get there… maybe this will all feel like one enormous mistake.

Probably not, though.

Final Countdown

I rolled back into town around 2:30am on Friday after two weeks of sheer insanity. Two delayed flights, and sitting on the tarmac for nearly 30 minutes in Anchorage (for the first time ever, actually), I was simmering with frustration and fatigue until I opened the back door of my roommate’s truck and my dog popped out to greet me.

I have roughly two weeks to figure out the rest of the logistics of this move. While in Chicago, I signed an 18-month lease on an awesomely perfect place in the northeast-of-downtown Berkeley neighborhood. The exorbitant rent at least includes lawn care, trash, recycling, a sizable fenced yard for the dog, and a garage. It’s a 28 min bus ride to downtown, which will probably be my primary go-to option to spare myself the annoyance of paying for parking and sitting in traffic. Given that the corporate office policy is “work from the office roughly half the time,” I’m committed to creating a really nice space for myself at home as well. While many of my coworkers are bitching and moaning about being recalled to the office a few days a week beginning in mid-January, it’s amusing to me that I’m giving up my remote life to willingly do so. I did decide after a week or two of this new job that living with a roommate should be a backup plan at most; I will need a lot of quiet time to buffer the constant Zoom calls and social interaction required.

I’m still waffling on what to do with Fuji’s transport, though I’ve priced out doing the trip myself via road and road-ferry, and the upcharge for paying someone else to make this journey in my truck with her is not actually much. My moving quotes are coming in under my expectations, and every step of this that I knock out alleviates my anxiety. Arranging for my furniture, vehicle, dog and myself to arrive in Denver in the same 6 day period between two holidays is a pain in the ass, but I’m pretty sure I can (mostly) pull it off.

My first stop of the past two weeks was San Diego, where I got out and about less than I intended. Save the first night there, the trip wasn’t really worth the time or effort: I hate California, especially its cities’ downtown areas, which are full of hobos and crazy people, even in San Diego at this point. sfsickoI can understand the appeal of living in CA if you can live somewhere that allows you to conveniently ignore the gross mismanagement of the homeless, but I think this is one of the most poorly managed places in the country, filled to the brim with hypocrites who will lecture anyone about how to live and yet allow people to shit on sidewalks in broad daylight. California seems to operate on the assumption that homeless people have more rights than people who have housing, jobs and lack drug problems, and I find this both insane and revolting. I admit my perception is heavily influenced by trips to downtown San Francisco and LA. I find myself increasingly disgusted by the entire West Coast in terms of cities, and these downtown plights have spread to Seattle and most notably Portland, OR in recent years. Not going to say much more about the books I’ve been reading, but I started and finished Michael Shellenberger’s San Fransicko: Why Progressives Ruin Cities while there, and it was a great read, albeit probably woefully unpopular with the progressive crowd. After all these years, I don’t see myself as a particularly political person, but I am a person who asks myself if things work, and what these cities are doing and have been doing for many years is not working. It is complete madness to me that this kind of wokeness broadly robs many groups of their agency with its victimology, and yet awards seemingly infinite rights to people who very often have little if any agency whatsoever (namely people with addictions and serious mental illnesses).

I continued to Vegas, which was absolutely overrun with people. You wouldn’t know the world was in the long-tail of a global pandemic. I did not expect it to be as insanely busy as it was, though it was awesome to be there. We stayed at the new Resorts World, which was way too far from the Strip in my opinion, but it was nice to stay in a brand new hotel. innoutI don’t do a whole lot of typical Vegas stuff; I like to wander around and watch people, dabble on the slot machines, eat good food. Unfortunately all of this travel quickly following being as sick as I was has created some annoying challenges over the past two weeks, and I unfortunately had a (somewhat rare at this point) syncope episode and hit the floor on day 2. I seem to be predisposed to passing out, especially from heat, so that was fucking embarrassing. It hasn’t happened for many years, so I am a bit rusty on catching myself; I was horrified at the prospect of people thinking I was drunk, when I was actually just hot and dehydrated, and as soon as I hit the floor I wake back up, so… oops. Unfortunately the consequence of that beyond having to explain to paramedics that no, I don’t need an ambulance, thank you, is that I’m afraid of it happening again, so I’m happy I was with my roommate and my other friend there. I think I still may have a bit of an electrolyte imbalance. It did not happen a second time, and I had a lot of fun regardless.

I had a quick ~24h turnaround in Anchorage, and then left for Chicago, which was awesome. chicagoWhen I started at this company, I had to go to a conference shortly after onboarding, and it was overwhelming (but fun). Virtually every role change is baptism by fire, and after being up here in AK alone for so long I was starting to doubt the breadth of my social skills leading up to a week in one of our giant metro offices. I was shocked by how stoked I was to be there and around other people, though there’s a limit to how much socializing I can take: I left our very large happy hour the last night a bit earlier than my peers after the volume and the sheer amount of people there started to feel exhausting. I’m grateful for my social muscle memory, and I think the week went well considering it was three long, long days of planning meetings and interacting with entirely new people. Especially after this past week (and signing my lease) I’m over the moon to press on with my life and my career. I can definitely do this, and cope with all of these changes. I love my new peer group: they are all extremely competent and, perhaps more importantly, different from each other, and from me. I feel like I am on an equivalent level of competence, and many of the challenges we have to solve together in 2022 are difficult ones. I will learn a lot, and will have to do so quickly.

This time next month, I’ll be in New York, with only tentative plans to return to Alaska after Christmas: I’d prefer to fly straight to Denver. I have in reality less than 3 weeks here, as I plan to also spend 4-5 days in Denver in the beginning of December. I genuinely hope my entire plan is buttoned up by the end of this coming week. The level of excitement I feel to move on is unexpected, but I am sure at times I will feel a lot more melancholy about this decision.

That’s all for now… I’m currently chugging through Steven Pinker’s Rationality, which is long-winded but good, though I’m familiar with most of this material already.

Return to the World

Well, this morning my 7-day course of ciprofloxacin ended without one single hurling episode (thank you, Zofran), and I am happy this experience is now behind me. I will be spending the next however-long-it-takes recolonizing the mausoleum of my digestive system with friendly bacteria: antibiotics are amazing triumphs of science to be used in extreme moderation, and I have not used a broad-spectrum antibiotic since I was in college. Yesterday, feeling a bit nauseous, I decided to chance the gym (I chose the machine with a garbage can within barfing distance); I ate solid food for the first time in 10 days and even had a few cocktails. Today I survived my full hour on the stair mill. It feels good to be healthy again, friends. That was a close one. 

Given I no longer feel as though my days are numbered, I am ecstatic that I am wrapping my life up and transporting myself and my dog (I hope) to Denver in a few short months. It’s only Tuesday and it’s already been a hellacious week; I’ve already been added to my new team’s channels, boards, calendars and meetings, and I still have a few days left with my former team, which is not really how this was supposed to go, but it is what it is, and I appreciate their eagerness to have me on board. 

The next two weeks are filled with travel, and when I get back I expect to start figuring out my timeline for getting my stuff moved out of here. I am grateful for the months I have to find a place to live, though I will probably have to head to Denver for a few days after Thanksgiving regardless. I am anxious about this piece, but I am sure it will work out. 01My dog’s bully breed is a major struggle, as it always has been, which is tragic and ridiculous, and it will cost me thousands of dollars on top of my own costs to situate her. I’m torn, to be honest, on taking her with me, as she has a family she knows well that would happily adopt her here, and she’d have far more frequent company with a family than she’ll have with me working from the office half the week. It is extremely taboo to say things like this, I realized months ago, as people anthropomorphize their pets and think they’re crying themselves to sleep at night when they’re apart, which is not typically the case, and certainly not the case for mine. That said, I’ve had this dog for 6 of her 8 years of life, and she’s bonded to me, so she will probably be coming with me at my expense anyway. I can’t imagine parting with an animal that was my sole companion through the pandemic, and if you can be proud of a dog for what it has become character-wise in the time you’ve owned it, I am proud of her. This dog would not even let people near her when I took her in; she loves everyone now, and everyone loves her.

Regardless of how that transpires, I am fairly sure Fuji will be my last pit bull; my years of trying to do the right thing and taking in behaviorally fucked-up adult shelter dogs to turn their attitudes around and make them normal are probably over and I am tired of the price I’ve had to pay over the years for reforming the lives of these animals. A few months ago I came across a breed that will probably end up being perfect for me in the long run, and asked my sister to find me a breeder in the next 3-5 years so I can get on a wait list: the dogs look like huge muppets but are extremely protective and powerful, and excellent for security training.

Alas, we’ll see how it goes. There’s a lot to do.

Rewinding a bit, my vacation was fantastic. I spent a week in Myrtle Beach with my parents, and a week in Mexico at an all-inclusive resort. dadMy family has been traveling to Myrtle Beach since I was born, though I have only very vague memories of the place. A bunch of years ago my parents purchased a condo in the building we always used to stay in, which was a huge deal for them, and it has pretty much become their Shangri-La. I was skeptical at first, as MB is known as the “Redneck Riviera,” but the area has changed unbelievably since we were kids, and is now one of the fastest growing metro areas in the country. My parents’ building is well operated and maintained, and the ocean is so loud you can hear it inside, which I love.

My relationship with my parents has improved markedly over time, due to various factors, and I actually enjoy spending time with them, which was almost never the case until 2-3 years ago. I also just love their condo, I was over the moon at the prospect of swimming in the ocean every day, and I had an amazing time. (Yes, I blurred out my dad’s nipples. Ya welcome.)

My experience at my first all-inclusive resort in Mexico was also surprisingly good. mexicoSome things could have been better, especially the food, but given their typical audience I think the quality was acceptable, and they had a buffet, which was great. Despite not even being a pool person, the first three days there, we barely made it past the quiet, lazy river-ish pool outside our building. The beach was beautiful; the ocean was warm and amazing and there were huge fish swimming with us. I could’ve stayed for longer… a lot longer. cochinitaI had intended to spend a day or two off-property, so one day we went to Rio Secreto, which was mind-blowingly cool. The second day we went out to Chichen Itza, we swam in a beautiful cenote, which we inexplicably had entirely to ourselves. Dug up some cochinita pibil on the long drive back. I would go back to this resort in a hot second, though the 60% sale I booked with would have to be available… there is no way I’d pay full price for what we got. We got a killer deal at $370 or so a night… I wouldn’t pay $500. All in all total kick ass experience, no regrets. 

Quick rundown of what I’ve read this month, no summaries, just links to Amazon. Most of this stuff was good, nothing was great except for Cultish, which I really enjoyed. Woke, Inc. is worth a read, too. Age of Addiction was not really what I expected, but there was a lot of interesting history, which made it unique.

Dress Codes: How the Laws of Fashion Made History | The Age of Addiction: How Bad Habits Became Big Business | Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism | Saving Normal: An Insider’s Revolt against Out-of-Control Psychiatric Diagnosis, DSM-5, Big Pharma, and the Medicalization of Ordinary Life | Woke, Inc.: Inside America’s Corporate Social Justice Scam

I also watched the HBO remake of Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes From A Marriage, which I decided I didn’t hate as much as I thought initially. I do hate some of the modernizing efforts, particularly the open marriage that is their friends’ relationship in the beginning, but I am skeptical of this trend in society, which isn’t really a sufficient reason to disparage its presence in the remake. I also don’t love that they switched the genders in the original plot, but I could’ve gone either way I suppose. It’s as complex and emotional as the original, though I find the original to be timeless and not in any need of modernizing whatsoever. I still prefer the original, which is one of my favorite films of all time, but I think the remake was a good effort.

That’s all for now, but I imagine I’ll be writing again soon as things continue to develop.

Highs & Lows

I knew before it was October that this would be an eventful month, but I failed to fully plan for the extent to which October 2021 will be etched into my memory for some time. I’m going to skip my travel recap for the time being, and maybe post again next week before I depart for San Diego & Vegas, because this past week has truly been an experience in extremes.

I didn’t feel so hot last Saturday. I’ve always had a bit of a finnicky stomach; it’s better now than it has been in years past, and is typically happier with less food, and fewer meals. I chalked it up to whatever, adjusting back to AK, stress, who knows what. I rallied, and on Saturday night we had a big dinner with another friend. Honestly, after a few glasses of wine, I was feelin’ aight.

I spent Sunday in bed. I managed to have some dinner. I sweat and shook through the night. I spent Monday in bed, getting up only for my final interview. Later on Monday, I was offered a promotion to a position in Denver, finally. I accepted, and went back to bed.

Later on Monday, I told my roommate he might need to take me to the ER in the morning. Lying in bed, again sweating through all of my clothes and sheets, I decided going to the ER was not an option; all of our hospitals are on rationed care, and I couldn’t wait a whole day for help and risk getting COVID on top of whatever else was wrong with me. I’m one of those people who isn’t going to go to the hospital until I’m about to die, so this was pretty bad. I was fading in and out of consciousness. I was sleeping with my heart beating at 120bpm. Not good. I was in horrible, mind bending pain I had never experienced before.

At 8am I called the clinic down the street where I go for primary care and begged them to let me come in immediately. They said yes. I was there for four hours, and they were amazing… they ran all kinds of tests and CT’d my abdomen. Went home, went back to bed. Doctor called a few hours later and told me I saved my own ass bringing myself in for help: I had a severe salmonella infection, and concurrent overgrown e.coli (everyone has e. coli, but some strains are bad, and a malfunctioning biome can cause a harmless strain to overgrow and become harmful, apparently). Seeing as I don’t eat out of dumpsters, or dine on shit sandwiches, I’m kind of stumped as to how this happened. People I’ve shared this with tend to blame Mexico, but I’ve been to Mexico a bazillion times and I’ve never gotten sick, so I doubt it. You know what? I really don’t even care. The level of pain I have been in destroyed any curiosity I might’ve had over where I acquired this. I’ve never been this acutely ill in my life, and I’ve been pretty fucking sick a few times. I leveled up this time around.

My pharmacy’s incompetence caused me to wait a further 6 hours for the antibiotics, antiemetics and other unpleasant medications I needed to turn this ship around. For me, there are two parts to this nightmare, because antibiotics make me hurl, so it’s been a tenuous few days trying to keep them in my stomach and balance that with the rest of the symptoms. I am slowly starting to feel better, and I am surprised by how long any improvement has taken: given that I began a high dose of Cipro on Tuesday evening and it’s Friday, I figured I’d have bounced back by now… I figured wrong. I am still in a lot of pain, I can’t walk fast, and I can’t eat much beyond plain soup and cereal. I think it will take some time (weeks, at least) to fully heal from this.

I’m eternally grateful that for the first time in what feels like forever, timing worked in my favor: my roommate was home this week. I’m not sure what I would have done without him, considering that I spent days unable to even walk down the stairs. He has been wonderful (and is always wonderful).

Now, at the end of the week, and rejoining the work world (I took the entire week off, which makes me sad for my team, which will be informed of my impending departure on Monday morning), I am starting to wrap my head around the many, many moving parts that will comprise my move out of Alaska and into Denver. Thankfully, I have three months, and I don’t plan to show up until January.

The extent to which I will be forcing myself to adjust is difficult to comprehend, but I’ve had all year to consider these things. It came up in my final interview: that I needed to be sure I wanted to give up the level of freedom I have in my life now, and the level of control I have over my own life, to work in an office part-time, manage a team (of mostly brand new people), to live in a city again. It will be interesting for sure. My new boss is convinced I will think Denver is a crowded shit-hole and regret leaving Alaska, which is entirely possible. I told him I’ll figure it out. I’m holding onto my house up here and it’s a direct flight away… I’m not worried. Time for a change.

More on all of this in the weeks to come. Despite this unfortunate salmonella episode, I am so fucking stoked I managed to make this happen for myself, and to secure myself an all expenses paid ticket out of here and a promotion with a hefty raise. Fuck yes.

First & Second Snow

Parts of Anchorage received over a foot of snow yesterday: we tied our 1981 record for earliest accumulation. It’s tough to admit this given my passion for cold weather, but I am pissed.4runner September is too soon for this. I was hoping to get out of here (for vacation) before this happened; I’m grateful I managed to  at least put studded tires on my truck in time (my aesthetic improvements are looking good so far, speaking of, though the only two fun aspects of driving this thing are 1. the feeling that I can run over other vehicles and 2. the dog sticking her head out the back window, which rolls down).

There is no guarantee of an autumn season in Alaska; some years you get a beautiful Indian summer… the yellow leaves stay on the trees, rustling in the wind day after day, and the smell of wood smoke lingers in the air… some years you get a cold, slimy monsoon, and then it snows a shitload and that’s that. Welcome to winter 2021/22.

I spent the final pre-snow beautiful day driving to Girdwood, sewardhwyand each time I’ve been down there in the last month I have seen our Cook Inlet belugas swimming alongside the road.  Regardless of how much I feel that my time here is coming to an end, can you even imagine driving down a highway and seeing whales swimming alongside you? Misfortune, poor choices, bad luck, pandemics nor loneliness have diminished my love for this unbelievable, awesome place, and no part of me is wanting to leave because I’m tired of you, Alaska. It’s just time.

The first snow has always been exciting for me… I have been obsessed with winter my whole life. I feel the years’ tidal waves of nostalgia; I love the cold, clean water smell of snow; the melting drips the next day; the squeak under your feet when it’s below zero; the dead quiet, the bright moonlight reflections. I love everything about winter.  Despite not being much of a holiday person, even the emotional warmth of that time of year is pretty palpable as soon as there’s snow on the ground. I feel all of those things this year… but I also feel deep anxiety. And deja vu.

This time last year, I had crossed back into Alaska after heading up the Alcan, filled with hope for my future, despite the pandemic. A year later, I am so tired and burned out that most of my emotions are severely muted. I am approaching month 4 of interview loop limbo, a level of uncertainty that would drain virtually anyone, though I still have a very good chance of being relocated out of here before the end of the year. I’ve had less time than I expected to enjoy my condo and hike in the slice of time post-Labor Day and before my lease begins due to the dog unexpectedly needing surgery and being on rationed exercise.

Tomorrow I’ll turn my house over one last time before my tenant arrives, which makes me very sad; I wonder if I squandered possibly my last summer up here trying to make up for a shitty financial year. I wonder if I squandered most of this year, or the past two, or five, or ten, if I should have done things differently, if I could’ve somehow made my life better than I have, if I made different choices. That said, if things fall into place in the next few months the way I want/hope/expect them to, this will all have been worth it.

This year has been so grueling for me that I’ve been thinking a lot about myself circa 2003/4, living in Boston, spending my insomniac nights sitting on benches around campus listening to music, ruminating over how I could possibly turn the ship of my life around at that point in time while watching people walk by and leaves rustle along Commonwealth Ave and Bay State Road. It’s been good to think back to that, it provides context; I was so lost and devastated, totally incapable of seeing any good way out of my predicament. I do not feel either of those things at this juncture, and it’s pretty astounding how much confidence grows with age.

I have continued to be productive, despite said fatigue. I picked up vaping a few years back, overjoyed that there was a safer way to enjoy nicotine (I had been a non-smoker for years, and even when I smoked it was never consistent), and I subsequently quit (nicotine) Sept 1, then ditched the vape gear September 15, so that’s done. It was easier than I thought it would be and I’m surprised I haven’t slipped or had any overwhelming moments of weakness. I didn’t actually quit for any reason beyond feeling like I wondered where my vape was too often and the sense of dependency was annoying. The only consequence of quitting I’ve noticed is that my resting heart rate has dropped further to 53bpm. My daily hour on the stair mill is slightly less exhausting. I seem to sleep better, so that’s a plus. I expected to feel more… something about giving this shit up; I feel mostly apathy.

I’ve been pretty focused on maintaining/improving my health over the last year or two (to a more dramatic degree than usual), and no matter how shitty I sometimes feel, I have remained committed to this. Last year I planned to start lifting weights, I decided to wait until January, whether I’m here or elsewhere, particularly to continue to protect my hips: in the past few weeks/months I’ve started using collagen peptides, glucosamine/chondroitin and also visiting a chiropractor as a last-ditch effort to try to square up my right hip, which has been out of alignment for weeks and getting worse. I’m pretty skeptical about this medical profession, but I’ve seen some significant progress, so that’s been interesting. I think I will also ditch this Fitbit Charge 4 sooner than later, since it sucks at tracking high intensity exercise. This is a great device for walkers and hikers and people who aren’t sweating buckets every day… for higher intensity exercise, it’s worthless and incapable of consistently tracking heart rate.

I’m going to skip books for this post, though I may add them once I get to Myrtle Beach and have some down time. I haven’t read a ton, I’ve got 4-5 books down for September, none of which were overwhelmingly interesting (Cultish was pretty good, though). HBO just remade Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage, one of my all-time favorite movies, so I’ll be watching that on my vacation as well… I do not suspect I will love the new one based on my deep affection for the original.

On a final note,carol one of my few remaining friends left this morning to move to Juneau, and I’m proud of him for making a change that will increase his quality of life. I will miss him. My aunt-in-law visited from NJ a few weeks ago, and my roommate got back from Iraq recently, so it’s been really nice to have some company after forever alone. I’ve tried to really assess what my social life situation is up here at this point, and it’s not getting any better (which makes sense, given my zero effort in making new friends); it’s something that will need to improve in the near future. In the meantime, hopefully the next few weeks will net me some ocean & beach time, sun, and sleep.

To be continued in another post, probably later this week. Alaska is a disaster on the COVID front right now on top of everything else, so I will be very happy to be on a plane out of here on Tuesday night.

soon cold rain and frost come in: September

We’re on the last legs of summer up here in Alaska, and I’m grateful. Labor Day is traditionally the end of peak season, though tourism will slowly taper off through the month rather than stopping dramatically. Peak season 2021 has been insane, with huge volumes and not enough operational support. We have no available ICU beds, a pretty low vaccination rate, and no one seems to care up here… they are tired enough to take their chances. The one thing I looked forward to toward the end of this summer — the Denali Road Lottery — was canceled due to part of the road eroding too much to safely traverse, so that’s been disappointing as well.

It’s been a good summer for me on paper, but I’m pretty ambivalent about the overall experience of this year’s season. I made a shitload of extra money, my close friends and parents visited, I got out of Anchorage a bit, but not much. I did very little hiking, I did not travel, I mostly hustled all summer managing my Airbnb rental, Turo and my job. I also spent this entire summer, from late June until this past Friday, in an interview loop for a role in Denver, which I didn’t end up getting (I was informed on Friday, and was not surprised given how long I had been in limbo, which led me to believe I was a backup candidate). I don’t feel particularly bitter about not having been chosen; I knew it was an extremely competitive role with a huge candidate pool. I also knew that in being honest about my personality in the interview, it would be reasonable for someone more submissive to authority to be chosen. I am bitter about how long this process took; I’m now at the end of the season where moving would be the least challenging. I have never been part of such a lengthy interview process in my professional life and I’ve lost some faith in my employer as a result of them taking forever in a time where there is so much attrition in tech already.

That said, I’m considering applying for a second open role in Denver, and also eyeing some other opportunities outside of my existing company. Ultimately I’d like to relocate with my existing employer; I’ve invested nearly 7 years with them and I do enjoy working for them, but I’ve made it a goal to exit Alaska in the next year… on someone else’s dime. My life is such that I can’t really lose either way: I actually make and save more money living here, and work fully remote, but COVID has forced me to reconcile some things, especially how little of a social network I have here. I had little intention of leaving Alaska prior to COVID, and while we are past the worst of it (the lockdowns, the travel restrictions, etc) it’s still difficult for me to envision myself being overjoyed to be here through another winter with virus surges. Thankfully, at the very least, my roommate is home, so there is some life in my house beyond me and the dog. I’m not married to Denver, either, it is just one our hub cities in which I wouldn’t hate living — I don’t love the idea of going back to the lower 48, but at this juncture it’s better for my career and would ultimately make my life easier. After spending so long in a single loop, I’m hesitant to jump back into another one, but I will figure out what to do with that in the next few days.

My extracurricular revenue generation forced me to stay in or near town all summer, which mostly sucked and was super boring, but while I proceed with exploring some new opportunities I do plan to travel in the fall as well. I’m not much of a tropical island/beach/hot weather person, but I am planning to head to Mexico in October, after stopping in Myrtle Beach to see my parents. I’d ordinarily go to Hawaii, but their restrictions are growing by the week, so I’m a few days from pulling the trigger on an all-inclusive option in Riviera Maya. I’m tired and swimming in the ocean is on the top of my wishlist.

I know I’m experiencing something I’ve been through on a few occasions in the past: that my life is garbage, when it’s really not. I think more than anything, I need a break. I was never built for this level of routine, and I am not a person who enjoys being in the same place every day, or doing the same thing, so this has been a bit of a nightmare for me, and I am deeply bored with the rote quality of my current life. For the past few months, I at least got a lot of extra money out of it… as we get into October and my winter tenant is back in my condo, my life will become even more boring, so it’ll probably help me to get the fresh hell out of here for awhile. I have a ton of PTO to burn through, due to not having done anything for most of the year. I’m looking forward to cashing it out.

I funneled a lot of effort into work as well, and I’ve been rewarded in ways outside of being promoted. Despite the monotony I have accomplished a lot in the past few months. It’s been raining for weeks now, and it’s time to prep for winter, whether I’ll be here for all of another one or not.

I’ll post again re: books, but I haven’t read too many in the past month. For now, onward and upward.

Denali 7/28/21

It’s August 1, and the fireweed is up across the state, which means winter is 6 weeks away, according to Alaska folklore. I hope not, but the warmth seems to be waning lately, and there was already some yellow up north.  1627875928745My parents have been visiting, and it’s been nice to have them but also overwhelming in a way to have people around me all the time.

I’ve taken the shuttle into the park many, many times, and every time is different.  The scale of this park is impossible to capture with a camera. I’ve never understood why people freak out over Yellowstone and Yosemite: neither have the sheer scale or the ability to make you feel like a speck in the universe. We saw a ton of grizzlies – including the fattest bear I have ever seen in the Interior – but the clouds were way cooler. My new cover image is one. I can only hope if I end up cashing in my Road Lottery permit, the weather cooperates. The tundra turns red in the fall; it’s pretty magical.

It was nice to get out on the road again. I plan to get up to Fairbanks, Delta Junction and down the Richardson at some point in August or early September. It’s been tough to make plans to get out of town with everything happening here, but I realize a big reason I’m starting to feel like I’m over Alaska is because I’ve been stuck in shitty Anchorage for so long… this was not the kind of life I was living before the pandemic. And the pandemic is not over, as much as people seem to want to believe it is; I’m glad I held onto my masks, as it’s time to start wearing them again.

July, so far.

I’ve amassed so much content for July that I’m posting this before the end of the month; my parents are flying in on Tuesday night, and it’ll be only the second time this summer I’ve gone out and done any Alaska things, particularly the first trip up to Denali, which in previous years has always been in May/June.  Today was also the first hike up Alyeska, which used to be a daily affair… I’m surprised by my fitness level; while I spend nearly an hour on the stair mill most days of the week, it’s usually not sufficient training for hiking up an actual mountain. Surprisingly, today my heart rate barely rose enough for me to earn any Fitbit active minutes: a good and bad problem to have, good because you’re in decent physical shape, bad because you need to push yourself harder. It’s been raining a lot up here, and the humidity fucks with my joints, as much as I appreciate rain over wildfires. patio

It’s been a generally challenging summer for a number of reasons: we have no help in the hospitality industry, and anyone who is working in this industry is working twice+ as hard. Restaurants require reservations or have long wait times; everywhere is overcrowded. Alaska is crowded already in the summer, and over-tourism has become more of a struggle every year. That, combined with inadequate staffing levels and an unbelievable lack of patience of people visiting has created really unpleasant working conditions.

After opening my condo up on Airbnb, I’m sold out for most of the summer season; I’m grateful for the opportunity to compensate for lost wages during COVID, but because I manage, clean and maintain it myself, I now have even less free time than I usually do. I’ve made a few thousand dollars on Turo as well, though I don’t expect to continue that at this time… after weeks of mulling, 10986964_10103331468477270_2700687044414104837_o_10103331468477270I sold my beloved STI and bought a Toyota 4Runner, if for no other reason than to (a) capitalize on the high resale value of my car before the odometer was too high and (b) because my Alaska exit strategy will require a larger turbo-free vehicle that won’t blow a (literal) gasket on me on the Alcan.

I’m surprised by how unemotional the entire process was; I bought my first WRX in 2008 in New Hampshire, and bought my STI in 2015 up here. They are the only two cars I have ever outright owned, both manual transmission, and I have loved every moment of driving each of them. I nearly cried when I turned in my WRX for the STI; that car had been with me longer at that point in time than any person had; I had driven it to the easternmost tip of the continent (St. John’s, Newfoundland; photo to the right is the Bonavista Peninsula, where John Cabot landed in 1497) and then drove it to Alaska. It had 140,000 miles on it. I still see it on the road in Anchorage. I have covered virtually the entire road system of this state with those two vehicles, and the STI was a wonderful companion for my years as a road warrior. It is truly the end of an era. But it feels like the end of a lot of things is on the horizon.

Another reason I switched vehicles is that I’m not convinced this microchip shortage will end anytime soon, despite what we’re told by the media. I had originally planned to hold out for the 2022 STI, which I do not believe will be released anywhere near its target date. So, that’s done. I wish I felt more enthusiasm about it, but meh. I am making some modest changes to the 4Runner that will get it to where I want it to be aesthetically so that may help. I tell myself if I feel too much FOMO in the future, I can go buy another STI… and tow it with the 4Runner if need be. Win win.

I think this is also part of a continuing process of divorcing myself from material possessions with any meaning; it happened naturally with my condo, and I think is largely a consequence of my closest friend up here moving to Idaho… it does not feel the same to be there anymore. I think to some degree I also stopped caring about the car, at least to the level I had in the past; I hit a point where it became more of a source of anxiety than a pleasure. I realize this is something suicidal people do (give away all their worldly possessions): that is definitely not the case with me. I shared how emotionally dissociative I’ve been lately with a friend of mine in Fairbanks and he suggested that I may have transcended in a way, and as absurd and funny as that sounds, I think there is some truth in that. I have been in the zone 24/7 lately. I feel mostly nothing but the process itself, the accomplishment of individual tasks that are part of a larger series, and that might not be such a bad thing.

And so, alongside the juggling of various endeavors, I have been chugging through books, podcasts and even some good video content. I have struggled to get into podcasts, and it’s taken months of forcing myself to listen to them to really adapt, but I think I am finally there.

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