Ah, Alaska!
Actually, I don't intend to spend time knocking Anchorage for not being the jewel in America's metropolitan crown . . . mostly because I don't think Anchorage qualifies as a metropolis. As a municipality, however, it's bumpin'!
We passed much of today in or waiting on airplanes, which meant I spent a solid 9 hours hating the whole of humanity with a quiet yet burning passion. In the depths of my travel-induced misanthropy, I decided that flying to Alaska is a lot like flying to Las Vegas, except that it's longer and you have to assume that everyone on your flight is going to be staying at the same hotel as you and that said hotel is floating in the middle of the ocean and that said people will, instead of following a strict regiment of being-glued-to-the-penny-slot-machines all week and, thus, out of your way, walk directly in front of you at all times, as slowly as possible, slack jawed and waiting to see a whale.
A lot of old people come to Alaska. And the guy in front of me had stinky feet. I wrote a haiku. I might share it later.
So far our Alaskan adventure has included me looking for a swimsuit (for the cruise. And yes, it's as difficult as it sounds. But I heart REI Anchorage and the clearance rack.), the four of us trekking down to Ship Creek to look for salmon (we only saw one, but it was HUGE and red. And swimming downstream . . . ), and beer.
Currently Addie is bouncing off the walls (note to self- manage Frappuccino consumption more conservatively), but we are going to try to sit still enough to post something for her as well.
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