Life as an undergraduate, amateur entomologist, home renter & volunteer trapper

I am home alone for about 10 days, so I proceed to lock myself out of the house and break my housemate’s blender. In a single day. I have also indulged in some guilty pleasures, namely frying belacan in my home – my first time since moving to the States – and boy, it was so good! And I still have a week to air out the house and remove all olfactory evidence.

When I’m not reveling in the wonders of having a kitchen again, I spend hours trying to identify hundreds of ants. I dump out vials of ethanol, filled with ants and chunks of peanut butter, and count and rinse the ants off with a harsh squirt of ethanol. Under the dissection scope, I clean up more goop with a metal prod and tweezers, and then the fun begins.

Petiole scale? Check. Spiked propodeum? Check. Acidopore? Nope. 3-club antennal segment? Check. And so it goes until I think I know what I have.

The ant expert came in last week and basically, I found out that I know squat, and I’m going to have to re-identify the samples I’ve completed. But I’ve since had a breakthrough and can now successfully i.d. four genera with no more than a quick glance. I just have three more to master, and then it’s on to the good stuff: trying to identify ants from partially ingested body parts in Texas horned lizard scat.

Just for kicks, once a week I go small mammal trapping, where I caught my first golden mouse and a couple of shrews.

And then, when I’ve run out of all other classroom distractions, I sit my arse down and study. School’s going well … ho-hum.

Fall Semester, Week #1

I have gone through a gamut of emotions this week, starting with wide-eyed terror (assessment test?!), confusion (iClicker thingamajig), annoyance (am I really going to have to fill up all these damn circles for my FULL name on every single Scantron test??), and a mild fit of depression (assessment test…sigh).

There’s also been a fair bit of excitement, mostly focused on developments outside the classroom. The house is looking great and I have a kickass bike! I slowed down my pace, and am running so much better (thank you, Simon). I walked to the farmers market today (and last Saturday), and expect to be mortared-and-pesteled by the morning.

I’ve managed to accumulate a fair bit of stuff just in the last week -- how does that happen? -- desk, dresser, old schoolhouse desk top with missing legs, dismantled church pew, three chairs, two tables, bench, side table, hollowed out stereo, blinds, and a patio swing. [Yay estate/yard sales, flea market and abandoned furniture in condemned building.] Is it inevitable? Every time we stay in one place for any amount of time, do we always end up hoarding and collecting craploads of stuff? And I have projects – things I need to fix up and paint around the house. Unbelievable.

Somebody smack me if I start singing along to Joe Walsh’s “Average, Ordinary Guy.”

Bye, bye Vagabonding Days

It’s only fitting that my field jeans, summer field pants, work boots, and socks are all falling part. Word is out that this is my last season as a full-time field hand. I have my trunk packed, I’m stocked and stoked from CO microbrews, my house keys arrived in the mail, and I will soon give up keys to my storage locker.

It’s time for a more ordinary, mundane, predictable existence. Classes, fixed schedules, part-time job, and life as a student in the Midwest. It’s all vaguely familiar.

I’ve manufactured quite the send off to my wandering days, with a last-minute backpacking trip squeezed in on my final break, and a 3,000-mile roadtrip in my sights. Since I start my journey on Friday, the 13th, I thought it appropriate to christen my drive with an audiobook of Stephen King’s Misery. I hope to tune in while driving through my favorite state of Kansas … quickly, efficiently, and preferably, with no memory of the experience whatsoever.

Inevitably as I wind down, I find myself a little wound up, reflective and nostalgic. The question that’s been plaguing me of late is this: Have I sufficiently engaged in my life in the last 2+ years?

I know I’ve been lucky to have had this time. A time of unfettered travel, a time where I start a new life with a new job at a new place meeting new people for a few months at a time, a couple of times a year. With each field season, I’ve packed up my life and car and relocated, resettled and started anew. I’ve learned that for some people, I am willing to drive thousands of miles for a project even if all the elements are not yet in place and the details are sketchy and I have no where to live.

I have learned that I have lost not an ounce of my intensity when it comes to my work. I’ve seen myself grow professionally, making new connections and strengthening others, while coming a little closer to deciding what I want to be when I decide to grow up

I did take care of myself this summer. Yeah … I took good care of myself this summer. I pushed hard, and worked off a fair amount of angst, anxiety and stress. I lost weight. I gave up sleep. I indulged in ice cream, chocolate and giant cinnamon rolls. I made time for me.

I finally gave myself a rightful place in my own life.

Life Aloft

During a summer spent between 6,000 – 12,000 feet, I learned that:

1. Woodrats and voles die when left in traps through the night
2. It takes twice as long to rehydrate backpacking meals at higher elevations (duh!)
3. Cooler, crisper air attracts gas-guzzling, RV-idling crowds, seeking cooler, crisper air
4. Layering is the way of life
5. Time elongates and stretches in open natural places and distances seem further … key elements for gaining perspective and clearing the mind
6. Allergies do not improve at this altitude
7. I still run like crap (at two months in, I think I’ve worn out the ‘adjusting to the altitude’ excuse)
8. I get sunburned
9. Roadkill consist of marmots, elk and the occasional moose
10. I run my life independently and semi-proficiently, with little outside interference …

… enjoy it, honey, ‘cos it’s all coming to an end

Me & Time

So it occurred to me over the weekend, as I was actively engaged in watching ice melt, that a lot of the underlying stress I am feeling about the upcoming Fall 2010, when … in my head, anyway …I am making this HUGE, drastic change in my life, is based on the notion that I am not at my personal best. And I’ve been trying to take and make the time, albeit not very successfully, to try and sort out a fair amount of baggage and angst from earlier this year, that so threw off me off kilter.

But some things can’t be rushed. Some things are done, when they’re done.

It’s a nice idea to start my next phase in life back in school at the top of my game. But truthfully, how often are we really at our very best? For the most part, we’re shuffling between our best and our worst, hopefully edging ourselves more towards one end of the spectrum over the other.

I’ve had more highs than lows in my life; I’ve been at my best more often than my worst. And if I can maintain that balance, maybe that’s okay for the time being. Until this magical thing called “time” does its thing and everything is alright again.

Time sure likes taking its bloody time though…

Who’s on First?

Julie: “I know you’re worried about your woodrats. I’m more worried about getting mauled by a mountain lion.”

Hmmm… perhaps my priorities are sometimes skewed. Like this morning when I had to save my flea-infested woodrat in the NW corner from a four-foot rattlesnake, which was none to happy with my interference. The feeling was mutual. He was quite a beauty though, at least as much as I could appreciate it after I had a chance to stuff my heart back in place, and calm the thudding in my chest.

Work has always been my #1 priority in life. Then there’s school, which is also up there. Family, friends, and loved ones factor in as well. And more recently, a renewed commitment to edge myself upwards too.

So these days, it’s getting awfully crowded and top-heavy. Each aspect of my life jostles for top billing while I stubbornly refuse to prioritize and try and do it all. It’s no wonder I’m feeling exhausted, worn out and very ready for a break.

I’ve had five hours sleep in the last 48 hours and my campground is overrun with holiday revelers. For once, I am prioritizing one aspect of my life above all others. The next three days are mine: I am bear-canistered and pepper-sprayed.

My time begins in the morning. Good night.

Breakfast of Champions

I have a diet of an undergraduate squirrel, except with good quality Korean ramen. When I wake up – not in the morning – but the second time – quite definitely in the afternoon – I help myself to a large bowl of black walnut ice cream. It’s a Midwestern thing (the flavour that is, not the habit of waking up to a bowl of ice cream).

When I wake up the first time, just pre-dawn, it’s dark, strong, bitter coffee with a dash of milk. And some hurried bites from a granola bar in between Shermans. A good amount of trail mix is consumed on drives between the trailer and study site.

I’m down to one sit-down meal: dinner. I have enough single-serving frozen meals to last me a good two weeks. And I’ve been happily harvesting the bounty of the summer: melons, cherries, nectarines, white peaches, etc.

Copious amounts of tea – Chinese and black tea, sometimes sweetened – is consumed throughout the day, and a cupful when I wake up the third time, just prior to the midnight shift.

So let me rephrase my previous statement: I have a diet of an undergraduate squirrel, with a proclivity for iced tea, fresh fruit and Midwestern desserts. And only good quality Korean ramen.