Tentative Goodbye

As I mentioned in my last post, my family and I are moving back to the East Coast in three days. The house is almost entirely boxed up, including all of my toys and treats, which I'm not too thrilled about. Yesterday, Jesse came to the house to say goodbye. If dogs were able to shed tears, I would have. Saying goodbye to him was like saying goodbye to the best experience of my life. The time we shared together during the Iditarod was something I'll never forget, despite my short term memory. Jesse and Dave, who had come to see us off, took me out in the backyard and ran around with me, played tug of war, threw my ball, and scratched my belly. They said they'll come out to North Carolina and visit us sometime during the summer; needless to say, my tail started wagging furiously at the thought. Once Jesse left, Dave came over to help Mom and Dad continue packing. Although he can't lift much since he's still recovering from his injuries, it's always great to have him around (maybe it's the fact that he always seems to have a pocketful of treats? Not sure). I'll really miss him, but I know that he'll come out to visit since he made the trip east at least four times a year when we lived in New England.

I don't know why I'm so upset about moving, to tell you the truth. I think it may be because I feel as though I "found" myself out here in the wilderness. If you recall, I spoke a lot about becoming in tune with my animal instincts (catching bunny rabbits and other creatures of the wood), which I certainly don't believe you can do in the suburbs. I overheard Mom talking about living on a ranch in NC, so perhaps it won't be as bad as I assume.

As I said, we leave for our trek across the country in only 72 hours (yes, I can even do math). The computer will be packed by tonight, and who knows how long it will take for it to get back up and running once we relocate. So, I will unfortunately have to say goodbye now to my loyal followers. Thank you for listening to me despite my not being exactly human, and giving me wise words of wisdom when I'm stuck in a bind. I sincerely hope to reconnect with you all one day, but only time will tell.

Ever Loyally,
Lola

Next Step

So, I've got some pretty bad news. My family's moving. In TWO weeks. Mom just let me know this yesterday, so I'm a bit upset; I need at least a few months to warm up to the idea of something so drastic. Apparently we're going to be moving to North Carolina because Dad got a "better job" there. North Carolina? Really? We don't have any family near there, not to mention the fact that there are barely any seasons (yes, I suppose you could say this about Alaska too), and my family definitely doesn't have a southern drawl. I guess I'm mainly upset because I was just getting used to living here, and now I'm going to be uprooted. Again. Great.

Loyally,
Lola

Home Again

I'm finally home from our fishing trip. It was just great. We went away for a whole week, which is unusual, because usually we only go for a long weekend. The first few days we were there were completely dedicated to fishing. We'd get up at the crack of dawn and walk down to the river, set up our gear, and sit there for hours and hours. When I got restless, Dad would throw a stick or stone into the river and I'd fly off the dock in hopes of retrieving it. I'd swim around for a while, pretending like I didn't see it, while Dad yelled me directions. Once I got it, he'd scream with praise. There's almost no better feeling for a dog than being called "good girl" or "the best dog in the world."

Once midday passed, we'd go back to camp and make some lunch around the fire. Most times I would just be fed plain old dog food, but sometimes, if I was lucky, Dad would feed me some of whatever he was eating which was mostly refried beans, rice, and cheese, or some eggs and sausage. After we ate lunch, some days we'd go down to the river for a swim, or go for a mid-afternoon hike. Each day became progressively better and more adventurous. One time, I went on a high-stakes chase after a bunny rabbit. The chase lasted almost 30 minutes, despite Dad's screams to call me back. I was in heaven- my dog instincts kicked into high gear and there was no hope for getting me to turn around. Unfortunately for me, though, Mr. Rabbit got away, but regardless I had a blast. Dad, on the other hand, wasn't so thrilled.

Now, after a 7 day excursion in the woods, Dad and I have returned home. My brother and sister missed me so much that when I got back I had two new toys lying on my bed and a HUGE rawhide. That's been keeping me pretty occupied for the past few days, I must say. Anyhow, I had a great time on our trip and I can't wait for next year's- only 363 days to go!

Loyally,
Lola

Gone Fishin'

Oops. It's been a bit since I've blogged last. I've been very busy with the fishing trip. Dad and I are on our way home now. Usually he brings his computer or cell phone, but this time he wanted to be completely cut off from the world, which is why I couldn't update my blog. I apologize. I will elaborate when I return home today or, if I'm too tired, tomorrow morning.

Loyally, 

Lola

Ready for a Road Trip

Have I ever mentioned that I love fish? I'm not sure if I have, but I figured I'd let you know since I'm going on a fishing trip with Dad next week. I'm incredibly excited to go, not only because of the fish, but because I get to spend some quality one-on-one time with my dad. We don't get to do that too often, especially considering my brother and sister are so young. Every year we do a trip like this. I think he does it to clear his head a bit and get his mind off of work for a little while, but I'm not positive.

Back to the fish- let me clarify. I don't like to eat fish, they actually taste rather disgusting to me, rather I love to play with them. I believe in an earlier post I spoke about the Koi fish we had back at our home on the East Coast, Gus. He was a trip! I'd swim up next to him and he'd swim feverishly away, then come back and tickle me with his slimy skin. It's always fun to go fishing because Dad lets me jump in the water and I just have a grand old time with all the marine life. Aside from getting ready for the trip, I'm not doing much else. I go for a walk each day with Mom or Dad, watch some television, nap, play with the cat, etc. Not too exciting. Oh! It's dinner time. Got to run!

Loyally,
Lola

A Dog's Life

It's been a little over a week since we ended our race, and I've almost completely recovered. I'm so happy to be back to my normal, hyper self (I can't say that Mom agrees). I've been bouncing around the house, playing hide and seek with the cat, taking naps, running up and down the stairs, and just wreaking havoc until my brother and sister get home from school and I finally get human companionship. After their snacks, they take me outside and we play fetch for about an hour. I've learned that the only way to keep them interested is to play tag with them, so it's sort of a symbiotic relationship. They get really excited about it (and could probably do it for hours), and I get to expend all of my extra energy, which my parents really appreciate by the time they get home from work.

Dave and Jesse have been coming over less and less frequently, to be honest. I get a bit sad about it at times, until I realize that they're adults and have jobs and lives of their own. When Dave comes over, he has a new light in his eyes. After the accident, he was really down- especially considering he was so close to competing in the race. Once Jesse announced that he would be giving Dave the new sled and gear, it really seemed to breathe a new life into him. I think the fact that he knows he'll be able to compete in the Iditarod one day is really keeping him upbeat. And boy, that means loads of treats and belly rubs for me! I just can't get enough of it! Jesse, on the other hand, thinks I'm getting a bit pudgy, so instead of feeding me he's been taking me for runs, which is just about as good, if not better, than the instant gratification of a Beggin' Strip.

Anyhow, my life is pretty monotonous at the moment, especially when you compare it to recent events (aka that thousand-mile race), so I won't bore you with the details. I am, however, going on a hunting and fishing trip with Dad in a week, so check back soon for updates.

Loyally,
Lola

Lazy Lola

It's been four days since we've been off the trail. Needless to say, I'm still recuperating. Some days I find it hard to get off of my dog bed. As a way to keep me motivated and stimulated, Mom and Dad have been taking me for long walks at night. That's helped with the pain a bit, but I've noticed I tend to get tired much more quickly than I used to. I just don't seem to understand why I'm so tired when I'm only three years old. I'm supposed to have endless spunk, but I feel like I've lost my spark recently. I'm sure it'll come back though with time. At least I hope it will.

Aside from sleeping most of the day, my brother and sister have been really helpful. They slip me dog treats when Mom and Dad aren't looking, which is great, but I definitely think I've been putting on a few pounds.

This weekend I get to see Jesse again. I've honestly missed him so much. We bonded on the trail, and will therefore be bonded for life. How can you not become close to someone who you risked your life with in the Alaskan wilderness? I haven't seen him since Saturday, so I'm very excited to see what he's doing with the money and how he's adjusting. For now, there's not really much to report as I'm as lazy as a feline. Hope I'm not boring you too much.

Loyally,
Lola

First Iditarod: COMPLETE!

First, I apologize. I apologize for not having updated everyone on my status with the race. I think the last time I was on was last Thursday, but I'm not positive. Anyhow, we finished the race on Saturday afternoon around 3:30 p.m. It was THRILLING. If I could have spoken to someone, I would have screamed with joy! Instead, I was only able to bark- but boy, bark I did. Waiting for me at the finish line was my whole family, including Dave (in a wheelchair), who was absolutely ecstatic that I had completed the journey despite very little training. Mom and Dad gave me the biggest hug (and the most treats I've ever had at one single time; I remember because my stomach still hasn't recovered), and told me they loved me and that they couldn't have asked for a better dog. Well, I certainly couldn't have asked for better parents.

So, you're probably wondering what place we came in, right? Well, I can tell you it's not last, phew. I was so worried that we would be, and although I didn't have much expectation I knew we didn't deserve last place. Every year at the Iditarod several awards are given out. In addition to first, second, and third place, there is an award for the musher and his/her team who excelled in other ways besides having the best time. We won because, despite having lost one dog, we finished the race. In addition to a sum of money (somewhere around $10,000), Jesse won a new sled and all new gear. When he realized this, he decided that in light of Dave's situation, he wanted to give the new sleigh to Dave for when he recovers. Dave started crying, as did Mom (no surprise). He couldn't believe that along with life, he was given a new opportunity to pursue his dream. I couldn't be happier...and not only for Dave. This means that I'll be able to be part of his team one day!

The past few days have flown by, considering I've been sleeping the majority of the time. Apart from loving the REM cycle, I've been fed phenomenally as well. Not only am I getting my regular dog food, but Dad has been tending to throw in some meat and veggies to give me the protein I lost while on the trail. I know it's early now, but I'm getting really tired again so I'm going to have to sign off for now.

Loyally,
Lola

Congrats to Lance Mackey! Four Time Defending Champ!

It's been three days since I've last been online. If you don't already know, Lance Mackey was the first musher to win the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race four straight times Tuesday, crossing the finish line in Nome. According to reports we received via the satellite radio Jesse carries with him, Mackey covered the 1,100 mile race in just under 9 days. Along with the title, he won $50,000 and a new truck. Jesse really needed a new truck, not to mention Dave, whose car was destroyed in the accident that almost took his life. But that's a dog's life, I mean a human's life, right?

Right now, it's been 11 days on the trail. Mollie is still with us, being more a hassle than anything of course, but it's certainly not her fault. Still on the trail are 56 other teams, meaning 15 other teams have crossed the finish line since Tuesday. I think we're probably only a few more days away. Once the last musher, probably us at this time, is off the trail the Widow's Lamp will be extinguished, signaling the end of yet another Iditarod.

I honestly didn't expect to win, Jesse being an amateur and all. What I really want is not to come in last. I don't really mind too much though, considering this has been the most amazing experience of my life. I feel more free and in tune with my animalistic instincts than I ever have before. I'll discuss the details once I've recuperated after we've finished the race. Besides being rewarding, it's absolutely exhausting so I don't have much more energy to expend on the topic at the moment. Let's just say my paws are KILLING me. Keep checking back for more updates.

Loyally,
Lola

Iditarod Update #1

So, it's been 8 days on our journey through the Alaskan wilderness. I'd like to apologize for not keeping you updated, but you must know I'm exhausted beyond all belief and that, surprise, surprise, the internet is a bit shoddy in the backwoods of Alaska. Typically, the fastest racers make the trek in 10 days, but it can take as long as 15. Therefore, depending on our speed, which I believe is pretty slow, we're probably around a bit more than half way done. Thus far, it's been verrry interesting. The first few days were a bit of a bore; mainly the monotony is what did me in. We'd run for 3 hours, stop for a 30 minute break, run for another 3, stop, run, stop, then camp for the night. At sunrise, we'd take off and do the same thing all over again, until one day around mid-afternoon. We hadn't seen any other racers in a few days, and the terrain was as barren as a skeleton. I was afraid that I'd invert and go mad (doggy psychosis), until a gunshot was heard from a hundred yards away. I don't know if human senses react the same way to a gunshot as canines, but the sound is absolutely piercing to our sensitive ears. As soon as we heard the noise, all of the dogs stopped dead in their tracks and started howling. After a few minutes, Jesse noticed that Mollie, a six-year old Alaskan Husky, had blood dripping from her leg. He immediately came to her aid and took out bandages to wrap around her matted fur.

 I looked around for the source of the sound, but couldn't see a thing due to the sun's reflection on the optic white snow. After about a half an hour, it became obvious that Mollie would no longer be able to run, therefore Jesse was forced to put her in the sleigh next to him. This meant that we would be one man, excuse me one dog, short and that we'd have to work extra hard to make up the lost time. Since that fourth day, things have definitely slowed but we're trying our hardest to keep up. Nothing major has happened, and our spirits improve by the day. We've stopped only to refuel, so it's back on the trail for us. I'll try and post again soon.

Loyally,
Lola

Countdown

P.S. TWO MORE DAYS

Loyally,
Lola

King of the Jungle

As the start date of the Iditarod is fast approaching, Jesse and I have upped our exercise routine. Instead of doing the 8 mile loop like I did with Mom and Dad, Jesse has been taking me out to his house to run around with the other dogs. I really like being there because unlike the fields I run in, he has woods behind his house which are much more entertaining for a dog, let me tell you. The smells are unbelievable, as are the sounds and sights. Since I caught my first rabbit a few weeks ago, I've been sort of murderous to tell you the truth. Any little furry animal that dares run through my line of vision is fair game. Instead of it just being me, though, it becomes a competition between myself and the other dogs on my team; we cut corners, take detours, and run as fast as our four legs can take us. Instead of separating us, it actually has become a sort of bonding experience. When one of us isn't in the lead, we make it a group effort. Some will swing around the outside or some will stay back a bit, that way we ensure the kill. At first it felt a bit morbid for me, since I'm a domestic retriever and don't have a violent bone in my body, but now it's become second nature. Hey, that's the circle of life, right?

Loyally,
Lola

Canine Companions

It's only been two days since I met Jesse but I already got to meet the rest of the sled team. Yesterday he took me out to his house in Big Lake. It was about a 40 minute drive, but I LOVE the car, like most dogs. There's no feeling like sticking your head out the window and getting a rush of air filled with unbelievable scents. My nose was overwhelmed and I was in heaven.

When we got out of the car, 11 dogs rushed at me. To say I was scared is an understatement. Immediately my tail went between my legs and I froze. After about 5 minutes of me essentially being put in the spotlight, the dogs began to ease off a little and I was able to do some smelling of my own. Once I was thoroughly satisfied and began to feel comfortable, we spent the remainder of the day running around the field and woods behind Jesse's house. I've never had a brother or sister like me, so I was ecstatic to finally have the experience to make canine friends. I'll explain a bit more the next time I log on, but Jesse should be here any minute to take me out for a run with the dogs. Talk soon.

Loyally,
Lola

New Teammate and Friend

Today I met Jesse. He came over, said hello to my parents, and immediately came to see me. He ruffled my hair, I licked his face, and we became instant buddies. He did bring over some treats...maybe that had something to do with my immediate taking to him, who knows. Anyhow, like I said he's from Juneau originally but lives outside of Anchorage, about 35 minutes from our house. He's been training with sled dogs for almost 10 years now and, like Dave said, it's his passion. I can honestly see it in his eyes. After he spoke with my parents for a little bit, he took me out for a test run. After almost 2 hours of exercise, we arrived back at the house. Jesse couldn't have been happier. He'd been training with Dave's dogs for the past two weeks, and now that he got to meet me he feels like his team is complete. I feel complete too. I never thought in my life that I would have an opportunity to reconnect with my roots- to become wild and free and no longer "domestic."

Got to run, dinner's ready!

Loyally,
Lola

Jesse from Juneau

So far, I've had 11 days of training. There isn't much to report, as it's pretty monotonous and we take the same route each day, but I'm definitely in the best shape of my life. I do have some news about Dave, though. He's recovering well and is expected to be out of the hospital in the next few days. I've overheard Mom and Dad talking about how grateful he is that I'm taking Sadie's place, but also how upset he is that he can't take part in the race. A few days ago he secured someone to take his spot. I'm supposed to meet him by the end of next week. His name is Jesse and he's originally from Juneau, but moved to Anchorage 5 years ago to train for the Iditarod. Apparently Dave chose him because he "saw the passion and potential in him." I hope he's right. I'm not quite sure how I feel about being in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness with someone I've known for only two weeks. I'd say I'm a pretty trusting dog though, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. I hope he brings over some treats....that'll be a good start.

Loyally,
Lola

Fresh Air, Fresh Outlook

This past week has been absolutely liberating. I never thought that training for the Iditarod would be a pleasant experience, but it’s turned out to be just that. I’m really starting to get into the exercise routine and it’s definitely made me become closer to Mom and Dad. Mom, who’s always been a pretty vocal person, has really taken a liking to telling me about her life whilst on our runs at night, and I just eat it all up. We talk about Jack and Lily, her job, Grandma, Uncle Dave, and so much more. Well, okay, I suppose I just listen, but it makes me feel like she can confide in me and I can’t get enough of it.

Today, though, was especially liberating for me. On our morning run a bunny scampered across the trail and my animalistic instincts kicked into high gear. I chased Peter Rabbit for what seemed like an eternity, weaving in and out of trees and bushes, over rocks, tree stumps, and a small ravine, all the while hearing the screams of Dad to come back. Seconds before the animal made it to its hole, I swatted my right paw in a last futile attempt to claim my prize. The bunny faltered, tripping over an exposed root, and I went in for the kill. I’d have to say it was a bit unpleasant (blood and guts all over one’s muzzle is not in the least bit attractive) but all the while I felt like a lioness- powerful, sneaky, persuasive, queen of the jungle. I felt like I’d shed my domestic exterior and become a true animal, just as God intended. I can't help but feel like a new dog. Perhaps that's exactly what I need to find success in the trying months to come.

Time for bed, I can hear Mom calling.

Loyally,
Lola

Exhausted

Hello loyal followers. It's been a few days since I last posted my "Training Day" blog. All I can say is that my paws are in so much pain that it's begun to be hard to walk. The last two days Dad has taken it upon himself to make Dave's dream come true. At 5 a.m., like clockwork, I get a wake up call: "Lola!" Dad yells from the top of the stairs, "come here, girl." I run up the stairs, happy as can be, forgetting what the day has in store for me (short-term memory, it's a dog thing). Dad's already got his track suit on and the leash ready. We start by walking a mile and a half to the preserve, then he lets me loose. Oh oops, did I forget to mention that Dad was also an amazing athlete in high school and college? Unlike Dave, he was on the cross-country team, and by that I mean he can run 5 miles without so much as a heave of the chest. He's always been a runner, even though he's now 35 and has a full-time profession, which means he has no sympathy for those not in shape, a.k.a. ME. You may think, "she's a dog, how is she not in shape?" Well, I don't have opposable thumbs, therefore I cannot escape the house except when someone takes me, and let me tell you, my family is very busy so my needs don't necessarily come first. Don't feel bad for me, my family is wonderful. More than exercise, I need love and attention, and my family gives me plenty of that.

Anyhow, back to the tentative training schedule (I apologize for getting off topic, being scatterbrained is a dog thing, too). So after our 1 and 1/2 mile walk, we run the 8 mile loop around the preserve. You'd think as a three-year-old dog, I'd have the stamina for anything- not for an almost 10 mile trek before 7 a.m. I don't. I'm one of those pups who loves their sleep and being rudely interrupted during the REM cycle every morning is starting to get to me, I'll admit. After the loop, we go home and I eat my breakfast and Dad showers and is off to work. At night, Mom, who is also very athletic, runs the same course with me. By 8 p.m. I'm as unconscious as a stuffed animal. Lily and Jack, who are only 5 years old, have begun to go to bed later than me. Usually I stay up to watch my favorite shows, either American Idol or 24, with my parents but even that's begun to be too much. I'm having a hard time believing I'll be able to do this whole race thing. T-minus 27 days. What would Jack Bauer do?

Loyally,
Lola

Training Day

Okay, I changed my mind. What was I thinking, that participating in the Iditarod was as easy as playing fetch? Today Lily stayed home from school because she had a cold and Mom put on the movie “Balto.” You know, the one about the half-wolf, half-husky who had to run 600 miles across the Alaskan wilderness to get medical supplies? Although completely fictitious, Balto went through quite a lot in those 600 miles. Now double that. How am I ever going to prepare for a thousand-mile trek in the freezing cold and ice, IN LESS THAN A MONTH? I’m whimpering just thinking about it. Yes, I think I can run for days on end when Mom and Dad take me outside, but that definitely doesn’t mean I have the stamina for two weeks of it. I’ve caught Dad saying that he doesn’t know how he’s going to do it, and neither do I. I’ve got to run, literally. Dad’s taking me to the preserve and the training starts now. Wish me luck!

Loyally,
Lola

Big News

Mom, Dad, Jack and Lily just got back from the hospital. Lily, who doesn’t really understand the extent of the situation, ran up to me saying “Davie’s hurt, Davie’s hurt. But Mommy and Daddy said he’s going to be okay.” I licked her face and she laughed- which is one of my favorite sounds in the whole world, next to the tinkling of food in my bowl. After Lily pet me for a little while, I went into the kitchen to greet my parents. Walking in, my tail was wagging furiously, as I hadn’t seen them for almost 5 hours, but as soon as I entered I felt an ominous presence and immediately my tail went down. I caught the end of Mom saying, “I can’t believe he survived. The car was completely unrecognizable.” Dad agreed and said he had to find a replacement dog for Sadie- that it was going to be difficult as most sled dogs in the area are already on a team, and the race starts in less than a month. Finally having noticed me, Dad had an “epiphany.” “You!” he exclaimed, looking in my direction. “Hon, what do you think about Lola taking Sadie’s place?” She looked at him as if he were crazy: “Are you kidding,” she said, “Lola is a retriever, not a husky!” Still, Dad thought it was a great idea. Who’d ever heard of a Golden Retriever in the Iditarod? Because I’m a dog I guess I don’t really know the implications of what my being in the race would be. I’m as athletic and intelligent as any husky I’ve ever met, so I don’t see the problem. I’m going to prove Mom wrong, and I’ll do it for Dave. Running 1,049 miles in the freezing cold and unpredictable terrain of the Alaskan countryside can’t be that difficult. Can it?

Loyally,
Lola

Uncle Dave

Today I got some pretty disturbing news. Before I tell you, though, I need to give a bit of background information. A large part of the reason my family moved from the East Coast to the West Coast was because my Dad’s side of the family lives here. His parents, who are in their early 60’s, only had two children, Dad and his younger brother Dave. Dave is 28 and has always been an amazing athlete. He was a track and field state champion when he was in high school, as well as a member of the varsity soccer and basketball teams. Having grown up in Alaska, Dave always dreamed of taking part in the Iditarod- the ultimate test of athleticism and determination. Around 22 years of age, he rescued his first Alaskan Husky and began training her. For the past 6 years, Dave has developed a relationship with a Husky breeder in the Anchorage area who allows him to train several of the dogs in his spare time. On Saturday, March 6th at 10 a.m., Dave was to be at the starting line of the Iditarod Race. Sadly, this dream will not come to fruition. Last night around 10 p.m. Dave was driving home from our house and hit a patch of black ice. His truck, a 2004 Chevy Silverado, spun out of control and into a ravine. Fortunately, Dave made it out alive, but not without some major injuries. His neck is broken, in addition to 11 cracked ribs and a shattered pelvis. His 6-year-old Alaskan Husky, Sadie, was in the car also but didn't make it. I wasn’t allowed to go see him in the hospital today, for obvious reasons, but my whole family is there now.

Aside from my immediate family, Dave is the closest human to me. Every time he sees me his face lights up, I bark, and we rough-house for a good half hour or so. I’m not sure how to react to this. It’s going to be months and months before I’m able to see him again, which is heartbreaking. Along with his pelvis, his dream is shattered. I wish there was something I could do.

Loyally,
Lola

Introduction Part II

Hello all. I'm sorry I haven't blogged in a few days, I've been a bit under the weather (I got into some chocolate chip cookies Mom left out on the counter and let’s say they didn’t digest very well). I know I sort of flung it on you last time that I'm a canine, so in all fairness I will elaborate. As I said I am 21 years old, which in dog years (1 human year = 7 dog years) means that I’m only three- not quite a puppy, yet certainly not without ample energy. I am an ever-loving and ever-loyal Golden Retriever. In addition to running, I love to swim. Back in New England, we had a large pond where I reveled in playing games with Harry, the resident Koi fish. Conveniently, God gave me webbed feet and I intend to use them as much as possible.

Moving to Alaska has been a bit of a change for me with regard to my swimming routine, which is largely due to the extreme temperatures and abnormal daylight schedule. I have found some great streams and small rivers near our house, but none within close range that I can get to on my own, so it’s been a bit trying for me. Anyhow, I apologize for my quick exit, but Dad just got home and I haven’t eaten since 5 a.m. I'll write soon.

Loyally,
Lola

P.S. Thought you'd enjoy a picture so you can connect the name to the face. This photo was taken after I'd gone for a swim in Connecticut.

My Name is Lola

Hello. My name is Lola. I’m not quite sure why my parents decided to name me that. In fact, I get quite embarrassed about it sometimes. People usually ask something along the lines of, “Hey, do you know that song “Lola” by The Kinks is about a transvestite?” How horrible of an introduction is that? Having your name constantly attributed to someone who “walks like a woman and talks like a man.” I don’t think you’d be too happy either. Well, that’s beside the point. It’s been my name for 21 years and I guess you could say I’m getting rather used to it, perhaps forcibly so. I've learned that as you age one learns how to tune people out, a skill at which I am becoming an expert. But back to the introduction: my name is Lola and I am 21 years young. I live with my parents, my brother Jack and my sister Lily, who are 5-year-old fraternal twins, in a small town just outside of Anchorage, Alaska named Allisaw. Not much happens in this sleepy (quite actionless, in my opinion) town with a population of a mere one thousand. We moved from Connecticut to Alaska two years ago (my dad took a job working as an environmental consultant for a large oil conglomerate) and I can tell it’s been a bit tough on the twins, but they’re adjusting. For me, though, I’d say it’s been pretty smooth sailing. 

         Right now my days consist of lounging around the house, watching television, and keeping up on my exercise. I’m not currently in school, although I was enrolled for a year or so back on the East Coast. Let’s see…what else is there to tell you? I was born in St. Louis, Missouri where the bulk of my family still lives, though I haven’t been back in years. My favorite food is macaroni and cheese, although I don’t eat it often. My favorite pastime is going for long runs (you could say I’m a self-described exercise fanatic) and my favorite movie is “The Sound of Music.” I think that pretty much sums me up, but there is one little thing I should probably mention before we move forward. I have to say, I’ve been struggling with this notion all my life. It’s not an easy thing to say, but I can’t be deceitful right from the start. Yes, my name is Lola. Yes, I live in Allisaw, Alaska. Yes, I have two parents and two siblings who are fraternal twins. Yes, we moved from the East Coast to the West Coast two years ago. Yes, my favorite food is macaroni and cheese and my favorite movie is “The Sound of Music.” Yes, I am technically 21 years old. In dog years, that is.