This is Hannah's journal. She doesn't entirely understand how to use this computer, nor how to find her web page, but she hopes that if she just keeps typing and pretends to appear confident in her shriveled technological abilities fate will be kind and this will work.

Sudden change of narrative perspective.

I've been here in Los Alamos for five days (I had to think for a really long time about that, since everything has been a fluid blur since Sunday . . .). I arrived at the Albuquerque Airport far later than originally projected (my plane broke down in Phoenix and there was a really long delay while a mentally unstable technician attempted unsuccessfully to identify some dangerous problem with the aircraft. We had to change planes eventually). I was the last to come, and everyone had already finished lunch by the time I made it to the restaurant. Despite my chaotic arrival, the time I've spent here so far has been amazing. Everyone is open-minded, intelligent, friendly, and fun (except for Chad, of course, who is merely an evil Republican invalit [sic] from Montando [sic] . . .). When I first discovered I had been placed on the Earthwatch expedition entitled "Transient Phenomena in Astrophysics," I was convinced that my acceptance was a mistake and scared that I would screw up the entire project--I knew absolutely nothing about astronomy, I haven't yet taken physics, and math absolutely terrifies me. Now I realize that although my knowledge and mental capacities are sadly limited, I am part of a group of individuals who are all here to learn and grow, and that I don't need to have studied cosmology and calculus to be able to sketch an asteroid, align a telescope, or discuss the meaning of life . . . . The skies here are incredible, and I'm happy to be a member of such a . . . special . . . team.

Since it has been several days since my arrival, it will be impossible to cover everything that has happened, especially considering my overwhelmingly short attention span. So. I'll just . . . yeah.

A couple of days ago we got our official badges from the US Department of Energy (we have to return them at the end of our stay, but for now I feel important, despite the fact that my skin is a sickly yellow in my photo). Later, we visited the Bradbury Science museum, where we had way too much fun fast-forwarding and rewinding through video clips of nuclear explosions and restraining Chad behind the bars of a rotating gate. We cheated on the Plutonium test and received a perfect score for Earthwatch--hooray for honesty and integrity! Since Quizno's was too crowded that day, we ate lunch in a random, smoky little bar where Ned attempted to teach me how to play pool and where we carried out a long, heated discussion concerning vegetarianism, capitalism, politics, and worldviews. At dinner, I ordered a Thai red curry dish at the maximum "spicy" level. Good times. After a really intriguing, confusing cosmology lecture, I wrote a poem late at night (another good reason not to attempt thought at the point of exhaustion . . .):

Driven outward by dark tides

of impatient energy

we balance on the earth's raw rim,

watching red worlds drift distantly

towards infinity

through pinprick pasts

and star dust theories;

crouching on a random edge

of this cosmic edgelessness,

we clutch at light

and frustrate beginnings.

Bending moonbeams,

we grope in the thick emptiness,

struggling to identify

hidden fists

of midnight gravity

and to interpret

ancient smoke signals

across vast patches

of silent sky,

tracing tenuous filaments

along dream-hollowed paths,

waiting

apprehensively

for some secret seam

to split violently

down the side of our straining pocket.

Later (as in another day) Chad and I had a calculator conversation, which is why I still don't entirely understand Celestial Coordinates:

Me: you are a nosy man.

Chad: why are we communicating via calculator? You invalit [sic]!

Me: At least I'm not from . . . Montando! Crazy Republican!

Chad: Do I have a shotgun and a bottle of whiskey in my hunter's orange-laden arms?

Me: It's all about perspective . . .

Chad: Instead could I look lie a bunny ?

Me: Absolutely. If that's what makes you happy . . .

Chad: It does! Now you care about if I'm happy or not.

Me: Only in a superficial sense. I need entertainment.

Chad: How heartwarming! The being is only skin deep, we all know that.

Me: Indeed.

Chad: I proved it, you are a heartless invalit [sic]!

Me: Thanks ever so.

Chad: It's because I care.

Me: I'm sure you do. What a sweet, honest, self-sacrificing man!

Chad: (tear)

The following is a random word-by-word relay story created by a collaborative effort of the entire Earthwatch team (please excuse incomplete sentences, improper grammar, and wandering thoughts):

In this pineapple throughout asteroids we spelunk in hammer spaghetti dog concentric anal . . .! Scars envelope smoky within mediocrity. Deliverance from apathy comes hesitantly--waiting boogers! Extrapolation incessant incestuous inspiration donkey breath. Once dear, sweet, little Montando wandered, inutile (what is the noun for the word "arbitrary"?), tingling with restless impatience. Myriad cheshire chartreuse obstructions bombarded the sanctity of his dreamy path. "Biome!!"--he shouted. "Shrinks are evil--as are prehistoric rodents. Do you like bananas?"

To be continued . . .!

Near the end of our geology tour yesterday, Frank, Derek, Ned, and I had a mountain adventure above Soda Dam. We climbed high above the rest of the group--when we dropped a rock from the top of the rise, it took about five seconds to reach the ground. Halfway back down, we met up with Diego, who had been sent after us as a one-man rescue squad. He showed Derek and I the easy way down (Frank had abandoned us and found himself stranded above a sheer cliff and Ned had gone ahead of us). We eventually all reached the bottom again with few injuries--Frank had sat down on a cactus and Derek was dehydrated and had stubbed his toe. In a moment of overwhelming irony, Ned survived through the entire geology tour unhurt, made it up and back down the mountain without a single scratch, had a safe ride back to the hotel in the van, and tripped in the parking lot in a pathetically anticlimactic (though rather bloody) conclusion to the day (in reality, he injured himself rescuing a baby from a gorgeous blond who had let go of the stroller in a moment of shock at the sight of such a brave, strong, handsome young man).

I am now officially addicted to Brisk Lemon Iced Tea--all 82% high fructose corn syrup of it!

Last night Christina and I found our hotel room door left open (again) and we realized that we had defied chance just a little too often , deciding that the local ax-murderer must certainly have finally found his way into our room this time. The bathroom door moved slightly. We armed ourselves with an uncapped pen, a hairbrush, and a bottle of bug spray, approached cautiously, and informed our violent visitor that we had him surrounded. He didn't reply, so we abruptly flung open the bathroom door--and no one was there. He must have snuck out when we weren't watching, so we went back down to the other end of the room to regroup and strategize a different angle of attack. It was then that I noticed for the first time the closet door--or what I had thought was the closet door, but which proved to be the passageway to the adjoining room. I carefully undid the several locks and attempted to open the door (certainly the ax-murderer must have escaped next-door), but when I attempted to open it, it remained firmly and determinedly closed. Christina and I concluded that the process of opening the door must involve the mutual consent of the members of both rooms, and we decided it would be the safest bet to re-lock our door and leave the murderer to his own devices. This was a foolproof plan--until the dead-bolt wouldn't go into the lock. I experienced several hushed moments of sheer panic as I struggled vainly to lock it. Finally, I had to be satisfied with shoving a pen through the lock and hoping it would hold firm during an attack. Thus far, Christina and I are both still alive (though if she continues to associate with radioactive bananas in intimate conditions, she may have to make do with a shorter, possibly cancerous existence.).

Favorite Quotes:

Chad: (during a deep conversation concerning the meaning of life) I do not believe that life is animate!

Elizabeth: (during the same conversation) I was once told that we are what we eat. I didn't understand . . . until suddenly I realized--we are what we eat!

Derek: Find your inner tulip.

Ned: I see London, I see France, I see Hannah's . . .--oh wait, that doesn't rhyme.