From the Bottom of a Mine Shaft

Sorry for the radio silence (not to be read as an apology for Boris Grebenshikov, who's pretty good) -- time seems to be evaporating right out from under me, and hitching posts to the vapors has been a tricky exercise. It's freakin' bedtime AGAIN, but I'll make it a point to roll out something more substantial after I drag my fried carcass home from work tomorrow (survey+116 degree heat+mountains = archaeology of the ninth circle. We just completed a dig in the Forest of the Suicides). And we have found several small mines in our survey area, so technically we are a little closer to hell here.

An unjustly quick shout out to my cousine Maureen, who just graduated from high school in Virginia, and will be hopping off to college in North Carolina in August. She was involved in a horrific car accident just before Christmas last year, and suffered some very serious injuries, but from all reports appears to be recovering well. The Bishops, the same that hosted my wedding last August, are some of the best people I know, and it's one of those head-hanging iniquities of life that they're having to endure what they've had to over the past half-year. If you're the praying sort, do put in a good word for them.

And I've subscribed to RealRhapsody, an internet music jukebox/warehouse that lets you listen to pretty much anything for $10 a month. Among other worthwhile causes I've come across (one being Anne Dudley's orchestral remake of the Art of Noise's "Moments in Love") was the Innocense Mission, an incredibly good band that I've somehow missed since 19freakin'87! Their latest was basically a lullaby album, with Karen Peris's voice skimming over the likes of "Moon River" and "What a Wonderful World." I do need more of that.

...But It Goes On

I'm back in Tucson for the evening -- it's a two-hour drive from my office in Tempe to my Tucson base, in which everything appears to be heading for the door (we've been using the living room as a central packing area). Meanwhile, I've been spending a lot of the past couple of weeks in a mostly empty apartment in the nicely landscaped and fun-to-say suburb of Phoenix, Ahwatukee, reading and listening to the local bastion of Air America. I stopped by the construction ste of our new house last night, still a little freaked out by the concept of "our house," and still a little miffed that the construction workers persist in throwing empty water bottles and construction debris all over my lawn. And yes, I am being unreasonable.

Anyway, it's a nice night -- placid traffic noise from the window commingles with the newly-appreciated Vauxhall and I selection. Just a highball of Petron away from a perfect evening.

The Story is Old, I Know

It's four something on a Tuesday morning -- I drove down from our new apartment in Phoenix last night to stay with Janine in our old apartment here in Tucson. The transition is happeneing, though. I've got a host of other very cool things to impart, but now I have to drive back, go to work, and maybe look around Phoenix tonight. My new playground...

And how cool is it that I can now call myself a Phoenician? It's like I should be wearing a purple cloak in Tyre or something.

Unless I find an internet cafe, this will be my last post for a couple of days, as all I have populating my apartment besides myself is a futon (no frame yet), a lamp, a suitcase, and a box o' books (mostly non-fiction). So, I'll probably try to find that internet cafe.

One last thing -- had a superb visit with Dan & Stacy (and finally saw their new lair), and finally met Miss Mita, all over a heap of Janine's dreamy manicotti. It was almost "good shit" overload.

Hi all,

I'm spending this week in Globe, Arizona, on a pretty minor project. Next Monday, I'll be back in Tucson for the week, and then Janine and I are off to Baltimore for five days. After that, I'm not really sure what's going on.

We do, apparently, have a house on hold for us, which should be good to move into by the end of July or so. Two story. Weird. It's going to be odd living in a place where there are areas in which you can't hear the TV.

I'm typing from an enviable Dell in the lobby of a Days Inn, and I'm in need of dinner, so I'll put off elaborating on current events for another day or two...

Hate to just post photos, but damn, I really must post this one.

My buddy, Arizona Diamondback Luis Gonzalez yesterday at a Shell station off of I-10. Guy is famous among baseball players for being incredibly nice. No lie. He posed for this photo, and I got the feeling that he would have sat with me while Janine drew a still life of us in charcoal. He said he felt fine for this upcoming year, sports fans, so expect the D-backs to lose fewer than 100 games this year!

Nearer My Dog to Thee


Janine's first crochet project: dog bonnet.

RAAAAAARGH!


(please note: this is a posed phot, taken by Ms. Kelli Newton, in good humor. Janine is not a barbarian maiden in real life).

In other news, we're off to Phoenix, folks -- in a month or so, Janine and I will be official Phoenicians, or whatever they call themselves. I received a plum job offer from Archaeological Consulting Services, Inc. (with... I can barely form the words... benefits!), with a tacit agreement to involve me in any historical projects they come across. Janine's already been offered a position at the Bayada Nurses branch in Tempe (just south of Phoenix), just a few blocks from ACS headquarters, and she's got any number of mindbending schemes in the works. All we need now is a place to live...

And no, I haven't waivered from my Eastward ambitions -- I'll still be moving back there in good time. A year or two with assistant crew chief (or more; you never know) and historical research and excavation credits on my resume will probably give me a better chance of landing a better position back there than, say, what that Joe guy was offering.

I've been wrestling with a chest cold for most of this weekend, which I've resented -- Janine and I were batting around ideas of either going winery hopping or maybe skiing up in the White Mountains or maybe something besides staying home, drinking tea, and coughing up goop. It appears to be subsiding now, but I'm hoping that another 40 hours of romping around in the dirt this week doesn't leave me with a couple of lungs full of mucusy mud next weekend.

And now I must sleep.

And we're back.

Sorry for the silence and all, but for some reason I've been feeling a bit non-verbal for the past few weeks. There has been quite a lot brewing, and I've been taking some time to process it all before I go spewing it all over the internet and such. Don't tell me you haven't been catching all of my psychic memoranda, though -- if not, put your fingers to your temples and sign up for the mailing list.

I'll start with the latest and work backwards and forwards over the next few days -- unfortuantely, I've only got a few minutes before my bedtime. Currently, I'm waiting for a response from the archaeology firm I'm working with right now. A tentative offer was made for mid-term (2 years) employment in Phoenix, and I'm anxious to learn what sort of position they see me filling before I consider perhaps delaying my Eastward plans for a short while (relatively) and lord it over a few other greenie archaeologists. Part of me hopes they make me a killer deal and Janine and I wind up in Phoenix (good pizza, bad traffic, good airfare deals, hellish summers) as soon as next month; part of me hopes they don't offer me anything I couldn't as easily get around here and I'm back to planning my Eastwardly exodus.

Either way, I should be seeing more of those back in the Eastern parts -- I'll be in my old stomping grounds of Baltimore at the end of April/beginning of May (I HAVE the tickets, and I WILL be there), and I'm hoping Dan & Stacy aren't going to be in Fiji at that time. I've got a few other trips scheduled for the Spring, including, I hope, my cousin's wedding. AND Heather may be swinging through the Southwest on her prospective spiritual awakening at the end of this month. Shaping up to be a decent year so far for me -- 10 years ago, I met Janine. A decade later, fate's going to have to do something brilliant for an encore.

And watch this space for an upcoming true confession!

Will the Real Andrew Bockhorst Please Grow Up?

Yes, it's been a while, and things have been happening, but I haven't felt all that verbose recently. Most has been good, although as I've just gotten back from monitoring the beer quality at Thunder Canyon brewery, I can't get into it just now...

Love to you all (and not in a drunken, "I LOVE YOU GUYSH" kinda way. I only had two).