Where'd You Go, Bernadette
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Read between January 26 - May 12, 2019
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that.” I can pinpoint that as the single happiest moment of my life, because I realized then that Mom would always have my back. It made me feel giant. I raced back down the concrete ramp, faster than I ever had before, so fast I should have fallen, but I didn’t fall, because Mom was in the world.
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“It means that when you’re trying to figure something out, don’t start off being too exotic in your reasoning.”
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“It’s for survival. You need to be prepared for novel experiences because often they signal danger. If you live in a jungle full of fragrant flowers, you have to stop being so overwhelmed by the lovely smell because otherwise you couldn’t smell a predator. That’s why your brain is considered a discounting mechanism. It’s literally a matter of survival.” “That’s cool.”
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“You know why?” Dad asked. “When your eyes are softly focused on the horizon for sustained periods, your brain releases endorphins. It’s the same as a runner’s high. These days, we all spend our lives staring at screens twelve inches in front of us. It’s a nice change.” “I have an idea,”
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eggs. It was my job to see how many had successfully hatched into chicks. Nick sized up the colony. “This looks like a complete breeding failure.” He shrugged.
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their chests aren’t pure white but have patches of peach and green, which is partially digested krill and algae vomit, which splatters on them when they feed their chicks. Another thing is penguins
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“The penguins that spent most of their time fighting were the ones with no chicks,” I said. “There you go,” he said. “It’s like they’re supposed to be taking care of their chicks. But because they don’t have any, they have nothing to do with all their energy. So they just pick fights.” “I like that.” He checked my work. “This looks good. I need your John Hancock.” I signed at the
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I’ve never seen two people happier. That’s what a hot shower and peeing in a proper toilet will do. Vivian and Iris told me a funny story about how
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On the floor was a spaghetti pot sitting atop a flattened-out trash bag. Inside the spaghetti pot was a T-shirt with something familiar on it… a rainbow handprint. I reached down and picked it out of the cold gray water. GALER STREET SCHOOL. “Dad,” I cried. “Daddy!” I ran back down the hall to the wall of windows. Both Zodiacs were zooming away from Palmer Station, toward our ship. Dad was in one of them. Then, at my back, “You little rotter.”
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panicked, but then a pretty stewardess handed me a glass of orange juice over chipped ice. It tasted way better than it had any right to, so I took the trip to Miami, my mind on fire: a furious, injury-seeking missile. Elgie was the rat, I the misunderstood genius. The screeds I rehearsed were epic and airtight.
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There was something unspeakably noble about their age, their scale, their lack of consciousness, their right to exist. Every single iceberg filled me with feelings of sadness and wonder. Not thoughts of sadness and wonder, mind you, because thoughts require a thinker, and my head was a balloon, incapable of thoughts. I didn’t think about Dad, I didn’t
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I kept my head down, stayed in my room, and slept, but, mainly, I was. No racing heart, no flying thoughts.
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My heart started racing, not the bad kind of heart racing, like, I’m going to die. But the good kind of heart racing, like, Hello, can I help you with something? If not, please step aside because I’m about to kick the shit out of life. The whole time I
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Ellen Idelson was a contractor. She was performing contractor Kabuki. It’s a ritual in which (a) the contractor explains in great detail the impossibility of the job you’ve asked him to do, (b) you demonstrate extreme remorse for even suggesting such a thing by withdrawing your request, and (c) he tells you he’s found a way to do it, so (d) you owe him one for doing what he was hired to do in the first place.
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“Easy,” Ellen said. “We can remove them. But we’ll have to do it today.” My body gave a little jolt. Here was a woman who took can-do to an exciting new level.
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I sat down and flipped to a random page. “True or False: I line up all my shoes according to color. If I find them out of order, I can turn violent.” She was right, it was bullshit.
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profile of candidates best suited to withstand the extreme conditions at the South Pole. They are “individuals with blasé attitudes and antisocial tendencies,” and people who “feel comfortable spending lots of time alone in small rooms,” “don’t feel the need to get outside and exercise,” and the kicker, “can go long stretches without showering.”
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It’s a quantum physics concept where everything that can happen, is happening, in an infinite number of parallel universes. Shit, I can’t explain it now. But I’m telling you, for a fleeting moment at lunch, I grasped it. Like everything else in my life—I got it, I lost it!)
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feeling I ever knew was up in that sky. Twinkling joyous sunlight; airy, giggling cloud wisps; blinding columns of sun. Orbs of gold, pink, flesh, utterly cheesy in their luminosity. Gigantic puffy clouds, welcoming, forgiving, repeating infinitely across the horizon as if between mirrors; and slices of rain, pounding wet misery in the distance now, but soon on us, and in another part of the sky, a black stain, rainless.
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swear to never tease Dad about the emails from the admin. You may have a hard time seeing it now, but trust me, it meant nothing. No doubt poor Dad is already dying of mortification. If he hasn’t ditched her by the time I return, have no fear, I will swat her away myself.)
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Those East Coast rich kids are a different breed, on a fast track to nowhere. Your friends in Seattle are downright
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Canadian in their niceness. None of you has a cell phone. The girls wear hoodies and big cotton underpants and walk around with tangled hair and smiling, adorned backpacks. Do you know how absolutely exotic it is that you haven’t been corrupted by fashion and pop culture? A month ago I mentioned Ben Stiller, and do you remember how you responded?
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