Wednesday, October 14, 2009

the envelope, please

I'm finally allowed to talk about it.

I've been invited to join an expedition in the spring of next year. It's not a trip. It's absolutely, positively nothing like a vacation. It's a BASE expedition to the arctic. It comes complete with a world-class, awe-inspiring group of co-travelers and some delightfully resonant environmental aspects. And there's me, bio number nine on the 'team' tab, managing the base camp.

I won't be jumping; I'll be doing much the same job that I do in production, helping out with the logistical heavy lifting. I'll be using my WFR (with any luck, quite lightly). I'll be learning a metric shitton. And I'll be having the time of my life.

...which will then segue into the next time of my life, and the time of my life after that, and after that.

Polar bears, me and some guys in flying squirrel suits are comin' to save you. Hang in there.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

no return

"Skydiving is addictive," he said.

I believed him, but he hadn't told the whole truth.

"Better start a timer when you leave the drop zone," he should have said, "'cause you'll start to go slowly crazy over the course of days you're not wearing a parachute."

I'm chasing myself in circles around the room today, clearly in need of a fix.