I Miss Bob Ross

Here's a question.  What's the most ridiculous thing you've ever done for money?  It's a question where the potential answers can say a lot about a person's character, while simultaneously convincing everyone else that the respondent may likely share half their gene's with a urinal cake.  It's also a question where the answer changes over time, unless of course you're a pornstar or midget tosser, there's no coming back from that.

Yum, argyle.

Recently, I updated my own answer to "getting baby sharks to bite the shit out of horribly metro-sexual uber-Italian polo shirts which are sold to raise awareness for reckless driving". 

Yup, I don't get it either. 

Apparently in Italy, public safety messages are entrusted to the fashion industry, who in turn solve them by spending absurd amounts of money shipping t-shirts halfway across the world so they can have holes torn in them and develop a fish smell that will definitely never disappear.

To be honest, I am not sure how I feel about it.  On one hand, it's for a good cause and helps me stay afloat financially.  On the other hand, it seems fairly exploitative and it's probably not the best idea to train sharks to bite polo shirts.  Then again, the only people likely to wear the shirts are Italian hipsters...

On another note, at night, when the day's work is over, i am starting to surpass boredom. The past two nights I have laid in bed staring at the wall with literally no desire or inspiration to do anything.  I'm not sure if there's a word for that feeling, but if not, the word should involve Bob Ross. 

Talk about an American icon.  For those of you wondering who Bob Ross is, do yourself a favor and look him up on Youtube.  Why Bob Ross you ask?  Because that soft spoken, afro-headed, "happy tree" painting hippie was the cure for boredom.  One moment you're counting the stitching pattern of the blanket on your couch, the next your watching a glacial river surge through the Alaskan tundra in the shadow of an epic snow-capped mountain.  As you laid there, with near zero brain activity, Bob would mix paint on his palette and create new colors, all while his commentary lulled you toward that afternoon nap your boredom was preventing.  Then, just when you thought he was done, boom!  Beaver dam.  Bob kept you on your toes like that.

  

It's a new year, but there's a crumb in my keyboard

So, here I sit exactly one year to the day from when I first arrived in Bimini.  Initially, I had grand plans for this anniversary and the first new entry in my blog.  However, those plans are likely to become slightly spoiled by the terribly annoying crumb in my keyboard that is shifting around and making certain keys impossible to press.  With that in mind, I'll give it my best.

257 cm female Bull shark

I've never really been one for resolutions, but after my epic fail at continuing my blog upon returning to the Sharklab, I've decided that this year I'll test my worthlessness.  You might think I sound a bit harsh on myself, but I promise you it's an adequate description.  If you're not convinced, look at my first entry upon returning as staff, the one where I describe my grand (bullshit) plans to essentially become an environmental journalist blogging about all that is wrong in our polluted world...Long story short, I followed that claim up with a single post complaining about brain dead film crews, which, in all fairness, are about as enjoyable as kidney stones.

To be honest, the real reason I stopped blogging was because my daily routine here at the lab changed a lot.  Before, as a volunteer, I was out in the field every day and there were a ton of new experiences each week such as sharkdives, hammerheads, and raging dolphin hippies.  *On a brief side note, dolphin hippies never get old.  Just last week Emily and I overheard a woman explaining how dolphins altered her DNA.  One World, One Pod! 

Read the shirt...

After returning as an assistant manager, however, I spend a lot of days around the lab working on fixing and maintaining this glorified double-wide trailer.  I guess I just didn't think anyone wanted to hear about my struggles with PVC plumbing, outboard engines, and pet dogs with chronic cases of the shits.  I lost the inspiration and found it impossible to sit down and write; for those of you who know me well, if you thought my stories take a long time to tell, just imagine when I have to write them down.

Anyway, I realized that it's not simply the field work that makes this place fun and interesting to read about, and that most of you would actually probably enjoy me describing my epic battle with a 20 year old boat ramp.  That may be slightly egotistical, but then again you probably don't know how much fun it is to play with a crowbar.  The past seven months have been a whirlwind of sharks, fiberglass, fuel filters, and Bahamians who I'm still not convinced are actually speaking English.



So, while I can't promise this won't be the first of two posts in 2011, I can say that I'm going to do my best to keep it going.  While it might not always be an episode of Sharkweek, i'll try to make it enjoyable and representative of the incredible experience that is the Bimini Shark Lab.