Packing up

We leave for Peru tomorrow night, so don't expect to hear from me for a while. I'm going to be busy climbing mountains, petting Alpaca, not getting pick-pocketed, and asking for vegetarian meals in broken Spanish.

Maybe I'll send some postcards that won't be received until I return, which will hopefully be with some good souvenirs and an Andean tan. Though that might just be a bad sunburn due to high altitudes. Plus, it's winter there. I'm packing long underwear for sleeping in the tent. I don't think they make "tan-thru" long underwear.

Think of this as my pre-Peruvian ramble. That's all for now.

Brick. House.

It seems like nearly everywhere I go lately, that song is playing:

In the grocery store earlier this week: Brick. House. A woman with a baby in her cart sang softly as she looked at soup.

In Target yesterday: Brick. House. I walked around, looking for things I could not find but was happy to be in an air-conditioned, non-humid environment. I sang along in my head before going back to Heat Stroke Villa, which is what I will call my non-air-conditioned apartment.

Today at the gym: Brick. House. I did squats and wondered why a woman who is "36-24-36" would be considered anyone's Brick House. She just sounds skinny to me, which seems like the opposite of a Brick House. Clearly, the Commodores were confused by our sexist, fat-phobic culture.

Is the entire town of Natick on the same Musak loop?

Incidentally, our new apartment will be in a brick building. A Brick House if you will.

Clown school in Singapore

Last week I had an odd dream: Todd had decided that he would accompany a friend to Singapore where they would attend clown school together. One of the main reasons he was going was that there was a special airfare, so long as the return date wasn't for 3 months. So, that was Todd's plan: He would go to Singapore for 3 months and learn to be a clown. I was not invited. Rather, it was expected that I would just pay the rent for 3 months with my nonexistent salary and generally hold down the fort.

I tried to remind Todd that he didn't even like clowns and that they are actually quite scary. But no, he was determined. And I was pissed. I woke up ready to both kick him and cry, but before I did either I realized it was a dream. And I'm sure Todd appreciated this, especially with the kicking.

In other news, we leave for Peru next Thursday. That's just over a week, in case you don't know what day it is. We will not be attending clown school there.

Memories

The air is thick with memories 'round these parts. After all, last year at this time, Todd and I were busy selling off our stuff and preparing to move. My days consisted of procuring boxes, wrapping things in bubble wrap, and trying to be patient as endless streams of people who saw our stuff on Craigslist wanted to come lowball me on the price. And now, here we are again, preparing to move, though at least this time it's just to a nearby city. Last year, too, we had a vacation in the works -- the roadtrip that took us 3,200 miles away from home. And two weeks from today, we are going far away again, to Peru. But this time we're coming back.

To prepare for our upcoming move, I posted an ad on Craigslist today to sell the treadmill that took me nowhere. Of course, this brought back memories of all the ads I posted last year that resulted in the sale of most of our possessions. (This was also because we still have all the pictures on the computer -- anybody want to buy a bike that I no longer own?) And it turns out that there were some pictures on the camera that we hadn't downloaded yet, from good times had months ago. I think it's always exciting to discover pictures you forgot existed. Here's a little walk down memory lane:

It took me a few minutes to figure out what this one is. Not long after we moved here, Todd and I played tourist. This is me peering over the pew at an old church -- it might be the Old North Church or something, but I'm not sure. I found it funny that the pews were so enclosed, and even had little doors. That way you don't have to interact with anybody. Which is as God intended, apparently.

This is the state house in Concord, New Hampshire. In September or early October last year, Todd and I took a day trip to the north. We saw some leaves and stopped off in the capital. We were still in travel mode, I think, since this picture looks pretty similar to the state house picture we took in Boise, Idaho. I think we were taking an unconscious tour of state capitals.

These two are of Kennebunkport, Maine. For my birthday last year, Todd and I went to Portland, but on our way home, we stopped to see where the rich and famous hang out. This is where they do it. Although I don't think the truly wealthy "hang out." They enjoy pursuits that sound more sophisticated, like "dining" and "entertaining." Unfortunately, we don't have any pictures of actual rich people in their natural habitat. Sorry.

Hiking up the mountain

On Saturday, Todd and I decided that we would be all hardcore and hike up Mount Wachusett, a local ski area. We packed our backpacks full of heavy books and started driving to the mountain, feeling good about this hike as a preparation for the big hike to Machu Picchu later this month. By even considering doing this hike, we felt big and strong.

Our plans were almost thwarted though, by these people:



Turns out there was a big multi-stage bike race that day, the Fitchburg Longsjo Classic. Some roads were closed and we thought that maybe we wouldn't be able to get to the trails. We persevered, and got to see the riders traveling in herds faster than it would seem possible for humans to go.

This race is apparently a big deal. We heard that during that day, people had gone something like 90 miles. And it wasn't even the last day of the race. We got to the top of the mountain in time to see some of the elite finishers. Yes, the finish line was at the top of the mountain. These people are actually hardcore, whereas Todd and I just like to pretend.

We rooted on the cyclists, took a few pictures, and milled around. Then, we trudged back down the mountain in time for dinner. Because that is the sort of hikers we are.

Also, I had the really annoying Mount Wachusett jingle that I heard in commercials all winter stuck in my head as I hiked. It's been stuck there since. I'm really hoping this clears up before Machu Picchu, or I will end up going insane. Sadly, I can't find the commercial on YouTube, so those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about will just have to take my word for it.