Hello, lake-monster-culture visitors. I write to you now in the first installment of this web page, not so much in fact as in relativity. And you know how much I enjoy being a relativist.

Here's today's batch of relativity:

Some of you might know from experience, and some of you might know from imaginings, that the fireflies come out in summertime evenings. I'm not sure of their full range, but their existence cannot be questioned. Indeed, they seem something divine, flying through the night in great numbers over the meadowy parts of the country.

It is with a sense of humility and appreciation that I saw the familiar glowbugs out tonight, and I thought it would be best to update you all on my status, to as much as should be articulated. So I have walked outside and sit on a tree stump, watching nature’s most peaceful pyrotechnics.

What makes tonight a sort of inception is the fact that I write to you now with all of the implements that I will actually use on my trip abroad. A combination of Palm Tungsten and foldable keyboard constitute my word processor, which more or less fits awkwardly into my front pocket, wherever I may wish to lose myself by way of foot. So I am out here tonight, with an eleven-firefly-rated liquid crystal display, tapping out these words to you. I'm hoping that my equipment, itself the very cutting edge of the vicious blade of technology, does not interfere with the very important mating matters these fireflies depend on to propagate themselves. No fireflies have come to visit me yet, but my cat has, and has insisted on sitting on my forearms, without a care to my impending carpal-tunnel problems. "Loopy" sits here, at times irked by the movement of my tibia or fibia or whatsitcalled, but despite the bumpy ride she stays here with much resolve to keep a warm lap.

So, there is a shamelessly long introduction, or so it feels. Now what about lake monsters? Well the day of departure is quickly creeping up on me, so I've invested a good amount of time recently to ensuring that all of my equipment is squared away. As you know, the Tunngsten and keyboard are here, as are my digital camera and camcorder. The last item, a music player and storage device, going by the very marketable name of Creative Nomad Zen, arrived a couple days ago. Everything seems to be working smoothly, except the mandolin, which FedEx must have sent through a vat of grease en route to my doorstep. No, I am not joshing you; there was the package by the door with bright red tape saying "Caution, handle with... FRAG" written across it, and I can only assume they had a jolly time, well, fragging it. Perhaps they're just as crazy as I am, thinking I could travel with a musical instrument to keep me company. This will be continued.

Any case, those are the tangible things. The less "in my hands" objects are the .. hey there's the first bug on my screen! …are the tickets for my trip. I've been working fastidiously with Airbrokers the last month or so and we've almost reached a telephonic cease-fire, I promise. Soon it will be all done and paid for, which is important because I leave soon. More on that will follow.

In other spare moments, I've been mixing my reading between travel writing essays, Tom Robbins, Lonely Planet guidebooks, and more Tom Robbins. I believe the effect has been greatly positive. Intimidating tomes of existentialism sit nearby, the product of many big questions echoing in my head recently, but I haven't found the urge to read them, nor to play the philosophy game in a few weeks. Probably for the best of me.

Instead I've been contemplating the powers of myth and othersuch. What is left of the summer has been measured by the Tarot with a reading that I find fascinating. What does the Tarot have to do with lake-monsters? Well, nothing. And everything. As my friend Charysse attests, I am excited to explore the definition of faith among my travels. Perhaps as a result of these new reflections, and perhaps akin to the Tarot cards, on the whole the last month has been of a different spirit than those leading up to May 19. Altogether a very welcome new turn.

Other than this, I am trying to remain in good physical shape by playing soccer - and promptly straining my quadricep. The icepack is a bothersome obstacle to the keyboard, you see. It is responsible for 30 percent of my spelling mistakes herein. [Ed. Note – my doppelganger has cleaned most of these up before publishing tonight ]

In the meantime, this entry is getting quite large, so I will break it up before I talk about my adventures in the local elementary schools.