Slightly irrational fears.

I cannot keep telling myself enough that in less than 97 days, I will be on my way to Alaska. I just need to make it that far and then I'll be able to enjoy myself. I'm starting to get some irrational (or maybe rational) fears about my upcoming trip. Aside from the whole, what if the plane crashes or the boat sinks, general non-sense, I'm thinking Bear Grylls style fears. What if I'm on an excursion or a hike and get lost? Though I grew up in the North, I am from Florida now, I can barely stand when the air condition is on. Do I have what it takes to not die? I'd be the first one eating poisonous berries or saying hello to the warm cuddly brown bear.

Then I'm thinking, my life is not nearly that exciting, that I would end up in a situation like that. I'm more likely to die of hypothermia chasing a whale in a canoe than having to eat my arm after getting pinned by a boulder. I read a book once called The Survivor's Club, which had this message that has always stuck with me: That it is the mind that can overcome adversity and when it comes down to it, if you really want to be the one who survives, then damn everyone else. It truly is a good read.

Hearing the stories from Carnival Triumph, I think I definitely survive if I were surrounded by food. I will be bringing doggy poop bags though, as they are incredibly useful. I also read that one should bring something reflective, to make search and rescue easier. (Hence, the back of an iPod).

Regardless, if I do find myself in a tragic position, someone please hack into my computer and publish my novel. It's no memoir, but I've been working on it for too long to go unpublished.