The Boundary Waters

Even though school is out, I'm booked for a bit. I've been busy traveling the great wide world that is the American Museum of Natural History with Vlada, and I have all sorts of cool things I could tell you, like how unicorns were actually depicted as horned goats instead of horses. Gobs and gobs of stuff.

It's 1:30 in the morning and I am not going to tell you these interesting factoids because losing sleep is just not worth the satisfaction of telling the world that the unicorn is a mistranslation of the Hebrew word for wild boar. It's just not right.

Instead I am going to get my beauty's sleep of 5 hours and head of to the wild world of "the boundary waters." Jordan and I are embarking on the great canoing trip of '07. Years later we will speak of it in hushed tones as the time were eaten alive by Minnesota's state bird, the mosquito. They're as big as a toddler's head and capsize canoes.

Then there are the flies. Black flies, deer flies, horse flies, and stable flies.

And then...and then...there are the no-see-ums.

I go armored with clothing from head to foot. I'll poison my skin, losing years off my life so that I can brave the front of hoards of aggressors. I'm a black belt in swatting. Oh yes. It's my time to relax, get back to nature, and enjoy the goddamned wildlife.