Mary Bellamy

Fairbanks has a few reasons to celebrate every summer. One is the solstice, and the other is Golden Days. What, you ask, is Golden Days? Well, to paraphrase the less-than-educated person standing behind me at Pioneer Park yesterday, Golden Days is when we celebrate Felix Pedro getting left on the banks of the Chena River and then finding gold about 113 years ago. Except Pedro wasn't the one left on the river. And it wasn't 113 years ago. But then, who really thought we'd find the brain trust at a festival, right?

But you know what we did find? Free hot dogs!
Here's Tom, who took a break while eating his four hot dogs. He started musing about entering a hot dog eating contest, but he let me down in a pie-eating contest four years ago. It's hard to respect a man who comes in second.
I only had one hot dog. Marvelous restraint. Plus, they were lukewarm.

But I digress. I really only talked about Golden Days so that I wouldn't blog twice in a row about the transfer station. I stopped in after work again today, because I'm on the hunt for some dining room chairs. First stop: Farmers Loop/Taku. No chairs, but the Transfer Station Angels were there. I heard one of them mutter that he should go into his dressing room before changing his mind and dropping his pants right there to try on some clothes. I can't complain about him too much, though, as he was the one responsible for this:
It's always nice when someone puts some effort into displaying the recycle deck goodies. The rest of the deck was in similarly pristine condition, but I had to get a photo of the refrigerator display case.

The Chena Pump transfer station did not have any chairs either, but it marked a first for me. I pulled in behind a guy in a pick up truck and quickly accosted him with a "Does that work?" question. The short answer was yes.
And so we are now proud owners of a 27" TV. It doesn't have a remote or a power button, but I'm not above sticking a pen in the hole every time I need to turn the TV on. Plus, we can buy a universal remote.

My visit to the Chena Pump transfer station was marred by odd noises from one of the dumpsters. At first I thought some guy was smashing glass bottles inside the dumpster. That would be weird, but I could accept it. However, he was actually leaning into a dumpster and smashing a window. With a hammer. I would have gotten a picture of it, but the dude frankly scared me, so I left him to smash and brought my new TV home.

Transfer station, how I love thee! You take away my garbage and give me other people's garbage in return. Seriously, people, I have of late become a transfer station junkie. It just so happens that I go past not one but TWO transfer stations on my way home. There's the Farmer's Loop/Taku Lot transfer station, which is where all the hippies and college students go, and I also pass the Chena Pump Road transfer station, which is where all the rich people go. Needless to say, outfitting our new house has been a snap. What, you need photographic evidence?

Today's big find: An outdoor table for our massive, massive deck.
Also on our deck: Flowers. I paid for those, but all the planters were free!
Soon to be retired: A grocery basket found at the Farmers Loop/Steese Highway transfer station. I always stop in when I'm on that side of town. It served us well for bringing food up to the main cabin, but is kind of useless now that we don't live in the commune anymore.
Tom wanted a soap dish. Tom got a soap dish. Or rather, I got a soap dish for Tom.
I wish I'd found this chair before I bought a recliner at Salvation Army. Well, now we have two living room chairs.
And an ottoman, which technically is not a transfer station find. This one I found out with someone's garbage in the Aurora subdivision about 4 years ago.
Small nightstand for our office? Transfer station!
Filing cabinet? Again, not a transfer station find. A friend found it on her new property when the snow melted. It comes complete with a UAF sticker.
Three-foot tall wooden tiki fork? Transfer station!
Dresser? Transfer station!
Mirrored bathroom cabinet? Transfer station!
Computer desk? Say it with me now....transfer station!

You may be asking yourself why I am posting all these pictures of my dump finds. Well, my friend, it's because I can. I can sit in the comfort of my own home at my own computer and do this. You know why?
High speed Internet! (Not from the transfer station)

Anonymous, you were right. How can I expect hordes of screaming fans at the burlesque show if I don't give you a few, key details?

Drum roll, please....

Fleurs du Mal Burlesque is back! This outstanding, locally produced classic burlesque show will have an exclusive run at the Palace Theatre in Pioneer Park during the month of July. The ladies will take the stage at 10 p.m. on Friday and Saturday nights starting July 13. On Thursday, July 12, don't miss your chance for a special pay-what-you-can "Boston" show. It's your only chance to see the show without necessarily seeing it all (wink wink).

You know what? I'm pretty damn sure that I've used that as a post title before. But my point is that my blog may look a little odd for a few months. I'm taking a few classes over the summer, and one of them requires that I set up a blog at Blogger. Now, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, dear readers, but I happen to have a blog at Blogger - and you're reading it right now. Actually, I have four: this one, one for my restaurant reviews (woefully behind in updates), one for my recipes (no, NOT the brownies, Jill!) and one for Tom's bike trip (although he got back in September). And so, I've petitioned my instructor to let me use this blog. Don't be alarmed if I started talking about processors or whatnot.

On the bright side, maybe this means I'll get on top of updating my blog. I was reprimanded for being lazy at a swanky lil' soiree for Jill this weekend. Di anyone else know that Jill is a lean, mean, digits-getting machine? It's kind of fun to set challenges for her, because she always overcomes!

And since you're still reading, let me just remind you that the Fleurs du Mal burlesque show starts THIS WEEK. Free preview show Tuesday night and a Boston (i.e. "clean") show on Thursday, with the show officially starting on Friday. Friday and Saturday nights at 10 for the rest of the month. Be there or be a figure with four sides of equal length and four 90-degree angles.

UPDATE: I lied. Or rather, I changed my mind. Putting my assignment posts on this blog would quickly become quite messy, so I created a new blog. If you're really interested, you can check it out. And don't forget to come to the show this month!

Fairbanks may the be second-largest city in the largest state in the nation, but that doesn't stop everyone from knowing everyone else. Cases in point:

• I went to a Canada day/surprise birthday party for a friend. The host had once co-chaired a gubernatorial debate with my boyfriend. Though I didn't know most of the other guests, we were all somehow connected through either the Fairbanks journalism world or through the blogosphere,

• Because we are looking for furniture for the new house, a coworker put me in touch with her son, who is selling furniture for a move. We chatted over the phone about a bed he had for sale, and I went to his house yesterday to look at it. He looked somewhat familiar, but I knew we had some friends in common. When he showed me the bed, I realized that I recognized him because I had sold him the same bed four years ago.

I'd love to regale you with more stories or photos, but none of the other bloggers have put up photos for me to 'borrow,' and I've got to go to an interview.

If you haven't heard, we are moving! We found a great house about 8 miles from the university, situated on the oh-so-lovely Chena Ridge. For those of you who actually know us (as opposed to those of you who just cyberstalk us. You know who you are!), our phone number will remain the same. For those of you who send us bills, keep sending them to the old address. For those of you who send us gifts, we'll get you the new address.

We're not fully moved in, and we won't be having our housewarming for a while, so for now I leave you with some shaky video.



The cat has made the move and is suitably both freaked out by the new place and overcome by the desire to roll in all the spots that apparently still smell like dog.

Summer in Alaska produces a lot of pests. Everyone's heard about our mosquitoes. Last year we had a bad yellow jacket year. And I've currently got a couple of wasp nests around the property that I'm keeping an eye on. But my big annoyance this year is the ever-persistent spruce bud worm.


They don't sting. They don't bite. They just hang in midair from a bit of webbing like a perverted, squirming Christmas ornament. Walking through the trees to get to our cabin has become a delicate art of dodging and weaving through the dangling pests.

I was only mildly annoyed by them until I walked into one full on the other day people. I'm usually not a girl about crawly things on me, but this one made eyeball contact. Eyeball, people. The only thing going in my eye should be my contacts.

Do you hear that sound? No, it's not me screaming about turning the big 3-0. It's me shrieking with joy as I download the Adobe Creative Suite 3. Yes indeed, as I type this my computer is currently installing Photoshop CS3, InDesign CS3 and Illustrator CS3. Oh, and why not add Dreamweaver CS3 to the mix to boot?

I tell you, sometimes it's great being a UAF employee. And it's cool if you don't understand why I'm so amped about this. I'm totally understanding that not everyone cares about design programs and nifty new features and the like. Just like some people are happy with Times New Roman. Luddites.

Sorry it's been a long time since an actual post of substance. I'm afraid it will all be quotes and light-hearted blather for a bit longer. Summer is finally here and I'm busy with about a billion things.

I'm sorry, Tom. I wasn't trying to sneeze on you. But I was trying to not sneeze on the cat. In retrospect, I guess the two actions were related.

Have I mentioned that my boyfriend is a Smarty McSmartPants? And an über-goober, but that's a story best saved for another time. When the Jeopardy! bus rolled into town this week, Tom was there. After kicking ass at the preliminaries, he went on to kick ass and take names at the second round.

Out of 800 people who showed up to try their luck, only 10 were selected for the contestant pool. And as you can obviously tell, Tom was one of them. He's now in their pool and has a 40% chance of being called to the show. Should he be selected, I plan to accompany him. And hopefully convince him to go to the Price is Right as well. I've got a way with the Plinko™.

Tis true, tis true....one of our beloved Hillbillies is moving on. Well, not moving too much, but he has purchased a house down the road. Last night was the official "I own it" party. Beer, champagne and an indoor toilet. He is moving up!

Now we have to begin the long process of looking for a new resident for the commune. There are already three possibilities, but we'll have to figure out if any current residents want to move to the empty cabin, then invite potential residents over to see the place and have dinner, then discuss the potential Hillbillies, then take our recommendation to the board.

Have I scared anyone off yet?

Fucking squirrels ate my hammock chair last year. But then Jay and Nancy gave us a slingshot. Tom has collected a small tub of rocks, and my aim is improving. The new hammock chair is on its way, and I am ready to defend it!

I was poking around Esty today and found myself perusing the hand-printed cards. One artist, Heatherjeany, does some lovely custom work, and as I was clicking through the items for sale, I came across one listing which was a save-the-date card for someone in my high school class. It feels weird to know something so personal about Pilar Vahey, who I haven't seen in more than 12 years.

This is the part where I should apologize for the pun. Please note the silence. And now for an explanation: After years of suffering the injustices of womanhood in silence, I have decided to rise up against the oppression and take matters into my own hand. Literally.

I am sick of Tom getting to use his favorite pee tree while I have to practically disrobe in our tiny outhouse in order to relieve myself. And so, after doing some research (thank you Internet, although you did steer me to some nasty stuff during my research), I have decided that I shouId order a female urination device. But I'm not quite sure which one is right for me, and so I turn to my gentle readers for votes.

Now, right off the bat I dismissed the Urinelle, LaFemme and P-Mate because they were all disposable. I don't want to add to the environmental stress on our planet simply to fulfill my desire to write my name in the snow. After further research, I narrowed the field to three contenders:


TravelMate
Pros: Narrow tip is ideal for perfecting my snow signature!
Cons: It's just so clinical looking.

PStyle
Pros: Please. Have you seen the color range?
Cons: Yeah, that's an open top, which just seems ripe for some accidents.

WhizPlus
Pros: Barbie-doll pink, with a fun name to boot! Flexible material.
Cons: More expensive, must order from Australia.

What? Don't most people blog about this stuff?

The weekend is over, and we survived. Cold Fusion has been working for months now on what just may be the penultimate level of geekdom. I speak, of course, of our now-infamous Borg bellydance. Yes, this was at the gaming convention. How did you know?

The Borg, for those of you who do not know (and you are officially no longer my friends), are a race of cyborgs known for assimilating other cultures and stealing their technology to further their borgifest destiny. In true geek style, we decided to perform a Star Trek bellydance in which I would get to don a bald cap and leather clothes and we could use a little stage combat. Unlike in Star Trek, this time the Borg won. Allow me a few observations:

1. I am way, way hot in a bald cap. In a sexy kind of way.
2. I am way, way hot in leather pants. In a temperature kind of way.
3. It is not easy to quickly remove a bald cap for a costume change.
4. If we wanted to, Cold Fusion could rule the dorks. Because, baby, they loved us! Who would have thought bellydancers would be so popular among the gaming crowd?