But not for lack of trying!

The snow here in Oslo, at the end of the winter, is nothing like Canadian snow, except it kinda is.

Unsurprisingly, we started throwing snowballs. I caught this one of Jonathan's snowball mid-air. I should make a gif of the series, he's adorable.

I love when we can play like kids together.

Okay, I'm working through the Science of Well-Being class from Yale. Week three's lecture discusses Annoying Feature #2, which is that our minds do not think in absolutes, they think in social comparisons. Tragically for us, those comparisons are whatever screams the loudest or we are the most exposed to. So, watch a lot of television featuring old rich f---s and you'll start being depressed because you're not nearly as rich. Our minds ignore that many of said people may have inherited their wealth or won some lottery, and yes, a good IPO is a lottery win, many many businesses fail or have shit business models (looking at you, Twitter).

In the lecture, Dr. Santos describes a Burleigh and Meegan study where the professors offered to raise grades by a half percent. Scores were rounded up, so if your grade after adding the half percent (really .567%) was above something.5, you could get as much as a full point increase in your grade. No one's grades were decreased, but only those on the cusp of the next grade would benefit. Turns out, 41% of the class rejected the proposal. In the upper half of the class, 52% of the top half of the class rejected the idea. The professors ascribed the difference to social comparisons: those at the top risk those lower than them becoming better, hello social comparison, and are willing to screw themselves over so as not to help those lower than themselves.

While not quite the same, I had a similar experience in high school. There is no way I'm going to recall the teacher's name, but the class was some history or social studies class. He had handed out a test, then went up to the front and wrote, "I trust you." on the blackboard. He then turned around, looked out across the room, walked to the back of the room, and left. The class was somewhat stunned. I turned back to the test and kept going. It wasn't a final, more like a quiz, and, if I recall even somewhat correctly, I finished it quickly.

The teacher returned twenty minutes later or so, and asked if everyone was done. Everyone was done. He asked us to turn over the test sheets and answer one question, "Did you witness anyone cheating when I was gone?"

Turns out, when he was gone, after about a minute, the whole room exploded into loud stage whispers, questions and answers flying everywhere, pretty much over half the class cheating on the test. Not only was it impossible not to cheat indirectly, it was impossible not to know someone else was cheating. Amusingly enough, some of the answers called across the room were wrong. I didn't correct anyone.

So, here we are, most of the class had cheated, and the teacher was asking us if we had.

I wrote "Yes." on my sheet, turned it back over, and handed it up to the front.

Once all the papers were collected, the teacher held the pile in his hands, and said, "If all of these papers say 'No,' you all will receive a 100 on this test." The class bell rang, and we all left.

I asked the teacher later what the outcome of the test was for the class. I had received a 100 on the test, so I couldn't tell what happened. Turns out, the whole rest of the class did not receive 100s. I was unsurprised by that. What I was surprised by, however, was the revelation from the teacher that only a few people reported witnessing cheating in the class. I laughed, and relayed what I had seen. I kinda wonder if he already knew, if he had been watching the class through the window or door. He was unsurprised.

I wonder now if I had been unwilling to lie for the 100 because I was confident I had earned a 100, or if I wanted to screw over everyone else for cheating. I didn't know about the offer for a 100% on the test before the question was asked, but the teacher was known to be clever. I'd like to believe I'd vote for the 0.567% grade increase, even if I didn't benefit, but really, I don't know.

For my first trip to Antarctica, I made a lot of guesses about what I should do and what I should bring along. Because I have a journal, I wrote down many of my thoughts in the moment about what I would do differently, what I would bring differently. Fortunately, I didn't do everything wrong, and also kept track of what I would do the same next time.

What I would do differently

1. Have an iPhone case with a wrist strap

I had a handheld Sony as my primary camera, a GoPro 8 as my secondary camera, and my iPhone XS as a device that I carried with me everywhere anyway. My best and favorite photos were taken on the iPhone, I rarely pulled out the GoPro, and the Sony annoyed me (I had the camera settings wrong, and ended up with a lot of crappy photos). I was terrified about dropping my phone into the South Ocean, so held a death grip on it. In retrospect, I would have liked an iphone case with a wrist strap, attached to my wrist, so that I could use the phone without terror of dropping it or losing it.

2. Have prescription sunglasses

I went with my glasses, and my sunglasses. The scenery was bright enough that I needed to use my sunglasses, but couldn't see clearly with them. I wish I had brought (well, owned, to be honest) prescription sunglasses, with a neck strap to keep them on me in case of going overboard.

3. Not use a balaklava

I bought a balaklava on the recommendation of the tour guide. The problem with the balaklava is that one size does not fit all, and mine kept shifting into my eyes. I compare it to a one-piece swimsuit: the only ones that fit my torso length are too wide, the ones that fit my width are too short. "Normal" proportions do not fit me.

I would rather have gone with a hat and a gaitor. I took the gaitor out of the balaklava, and wore my winter hat, which was, incidentally, purchased for the ill-fated 2012 Antarctica trip (so, it made it, too!).

4. Go with someone

I would have loved to share this experience with a loved one.

5. Pack more underwear

Underwear are small, easy enough to carry, and, if you have enough, there's no need to wash them. I rewore many of my clothes several times, but not my underwear. I overpacked with everything BUT my underwear. Fortunately, the ship has laundry service. Delightfully, my roommate, Ana, was happy to share a load with me, so I had enough underwear. Would have been simple enough not to need even that.

6. Consider adult diapers for longish zodiac cruises

Okay, these would take some getting used to, to be honest, complete with practicing before going on the trip, but having diapers to urinate into, instead of having either to return to the ship and miss a zodiac cruise, or to hold urinating until after the cruise, sounds rather preferred, given the health issues I triggered by spending 4 days dehydrated. There are smell issues, and practicing would be required, but really, I'd prefer not to have missed any part of the continent trip, as I did by returning early to the ship one afternoon.

7. Don't buy the t-shirt

Just... don't. You bought the Polar Plunge t-shirt and you hate it already. You haven't even worn it yet. It is the wrong size. It is a cut that doesn't look good on you. You dislike the fabric. You have a style, stick to it. That t-shirt isn't it.

8. Sign up early enough for camping

Who wants to spend ten thousand dollars on a trip and NOT sleep on the Seventh Continent? Really now, who?

If there isn't any camping spot available when you register, or call back daily to see if a spot opens up. A spot opened up three weeks before this trip sailed. If I had known, I would have had it.

9. Read up on the geology and history before going

I shouldn't have learned about brash ice on the water, I should have known about it. The tour guide company sends out a list of potential landing spots. It would not have been much effort to look up the Wikipedia articles of the places, maybe save them to the tablet. Or have a book or five for studying and learning on the trip.

10. Have a clear prescription UV-blocking sunglasses

So, untinted sunglasses, or wrap-around sports glasses. Mostly the UV blocking feature is what I was looking for here.

What I would do the same on another Antarctica Trip

1. Go solo

Yes, this is in conflict with 4 above. I met a lot of interesting people as a result of not having a partner. People who came with someone were in their clique, even if that group was only two people, and didn't seem to interact with others except from the viewpoint of that group. Seems.... limiting.

2. Definitely do the Polar Plunge

Oh, gosh, there is zero doubt about this one. Jump. In. The. Ocean.

3. Have no wifi

Wifi is an option on the ship. Don't buy it. Not being tied to my phone was wonderful, and incredibly well-chosen.

4. Be present, accept what happens.

Everyone has expectations for adventures. This trip has the possibilities of penguins, whales, seals, ice, glaciers, breaches, calving, fog, and landfall. None of these possibilities were guaranteed. Yet, so many fellow passengers lamented this and were disappointed in that. The best choice I made on this trip was to be present and accept what happens, regardless of desires. Holy moly, wow, this is an amazing place to be! Sure, things could have been different, but that doesn't mean they would have been better. Next trip, I shall, again, be present and appreciate every moment, in the moment.

5. Have an approved location for my card

The ship issues a trip card to each passenger. They are used to track when passengers board and disembark. They are used to track purchases and open doors. My card had two locations, and only two locations: my front right pocket of my cords or the left upper arm pocket of my expedition jacket. Those were the ONLY two places (besides in my hand being used) the card was. I lost count of the number of times I watched other passengers scramble for their cards, unable to find them, or see them flip out of someone's pocket as they pulled out their phone and the card came with it. Approved Location™ FTW.

6. Keep a journal

Oh, gosh yes. Never be without. So many amazing and (retrospectively) hysterical things on this trip.

7. Have ziploc bags in my backpack

Yes, I took ziploc bags in my backpack when we went on our excursions. For the most part, I had items in the ziploc bags that I wanted to keep dry. However, I packed a couple extra ziploc bags into my backpack, so that when the opportunity to drop a chunk of ice into my backpack came, said ice wouldn't melt all over my back. That melted ice was amazing, btw.

So, there we have it. What I wrote down that I would do differently, and what I would do the same. I'm looking forward to going back.

For reasons I do not understand, a couple months ago I started the experiment of handing conversations back to people when they offered them to me, and waiting to see how long until they handed said conversation back to me again. I would like to say I've been shocked and surprised by the data I've gathered, but I'm really not.

The experiment goes something like this:

Them: "Something really interesting! Let me talk for a bit about this interesting thing. Okay, I've talked about this interesting thing long enough. How are things with you?"

Me: "I'm good. I'm doing this thing. What do you think about this?"

Them: "Why, I think this way about this thing! As a matter of fact, I'm going to talk a long while about this thing that leads into this other thing. I'm going to continue talking for a while."

Okay, okay, the conversations don't really go like that. But they don't really not go like that. And I find the structure of my conversations with friends, strangers, acquaintances, family, coworkers, and adversaries all pretty much go this way, and all of them are fascinating in their consistency.

This isn't to say I'm bored in the conversations. Quite the contrary, I am far, far, far more fascinated and interested in conversations these last few months than I think I have been in a long, long time, possibly ever. I listen to my conversation partner, because I don't need to speak, I don't need to interrupt, I don't need to figure out how to counter an argument or top their story, I don't need to get my point across, because all I need to do is listen and wait for them to hand the conversation back to me.

I started this experiment because I noticed, and immediately hated in myself, that I interrupt. I interrupt a lot. I believe this habit has developed from working in Silicon Valley and in tech, where to be heard, I had to interrupt, because all the guys were interrupting. When the style of speaking is to be an asshole, you're an asshole to fit in. And when you stop, look at what you've become, and decide you don't like it, you change. This experiment was my way of changing, my way of watching (myself and others), my way of becoming who I want to be.

And it has been FASCINATING. I love it. The closest people to me didn't even notice I started doing it. We all like to talk about ourselves, it's hard to see when someone else isn't talking.

What do you think? Is this your experience, too? « I just handed the conversation back to you.

Sometimes a day is a day when you are overwhelmed with gratitude and appreciation for family or friends who bring food over when you call them to tell them you lost track of time and forgot to make the dinner you invited them over to eat.

Sometimes a day is a day when you are told to be the adult in a relationship, and you're able to answer, I'm ahead of you by a month, I already extended the olive branch, he hasn't taken it, ball's in his court.

Sometimes a day is the eve of a journey that could fulfill a childhood dream, and you are overwhelmed by that realization.

And sometimes, a day is just a day.

But not today. Today, was a day.