Captain's Blog

It's been a busy few days, with school officially starting up again today. Over the weekend, I made the most of the last of Spring Break. Admiral Dad taught me how to make a crispy French bread. It's important, after all, to hone useful skills in the apocalypse. This was one of the simpler breads Admiral Dad knows how to make, and took a few hours rather than a couple of days. For my first loaf, I would dare to say it came out pretty good: I also had a video chat with the majority of the Bridge Crew: my First Officer, Chief of Security, Pilot, and Opps Ensign. At school, we tend to be a big fan of game nights. On our video call, Chief of Security hosted a game on an app that replicates Cards Against Humanity, and we had a game night that way instead. Today, I had a video call with my literal crew from the time I spent on a sea ship. Twelve out of sixteen of us were in the call, which I think is a pretty good turn out. It was nice to catch up. Over the weekend, I also fin

Last night, the cabin fever won. I don't want to be too dramatic about that. What I did last night had always been the plan, was the reason I was growing my hair out, but being stuck inside has sped up the process somewhat. Last night I coerced Admiral Dad into taking clippers to the back of my head and giving me an undercut. It didn't exactly take much coercing. Immediately after taking the first chunk of hair, however, Admiral Dad swore, and I was suddenly very sure my hair was going to get a much more dramatic change than I'd planned. That wasn't the case, luckily. Admiral Dad simply forgot to put the guard on the clippers, so it's a closer shave than either of us really intended, which is not a big deal at all given that we're going to be stuck on the Home Outpost for at least another month. I'm confident it will look how it was supposed to in about a week or two. Then it's just a question of when I can get my hands on some hair dye... If I were

I've begun to settle into some semblance of a routine here at the Home Outpost. In the morning, I wake up and get ready for my day. Usually, I have some sort of brief meeting with Lieutenant Juju, Ensign Cow Bell, or both. These particular officers are always a bright spot in my morning. I'm not sure how well I would handle the quarantine mission were they not a part of it. Luckily, I don't have to find out. After I attend to business with Lieutenant Juju and Ensign Cow Bell, I report to Admiral Dad. Usually, Admiral Dad has already been up for a few hours. The business he would usually conduct at Starfleet Academy requires his attention from early into the day late into the evening. The same is true for Admiral Marie. I report to Admiral Dad, however, because he has the coffee. I pour myself a cup and join him on the couch to see to my own work. For now, the load isn't heavy. I was due for a leave of absence this week anyway, so there aren't many people expecti

I think I'm adjusting. Last night I remembered to bring my hair tie into the Captain's Quarters, and so it did not fall into the hands of Ensign Cow Bell. Today is an off shift for her, but she still found time to greet me with chirpy meows and leg rubs. I began the day running battle simulations with Lieutenant Juju. He takes his job as the Chief Security Officer of the Home Outpost very seriously. After being at Bard for so long, he wasn't convinced my skills were sharp enough anymore. I came out of his training with a minor scratch, but if his purring was anything to go by, the Lieutenant was pleased with my skills regardless. Once the drills were done, I poured myself a cup of coffee (the strong stuff Admiral Dad makes; I'm not used to it anymore and still have the jitters a bit) and settled in to work on my Senior Project. It was hard at first. I understand intellectually that all my school-related things still matter, that I have to do them to finish my degree a

Being home is both very strange and very not. Technically, the day Admiral Dad came to get me from Bard was a day he usually would've come to get me. Bard is now on Spring Break. Because it's Spring Break, it's easier to forget that this is a more permanent arrangement. I suspect things will start to hit again when we "come back" from break online. The reminder that this isn't normal is the fact that I can't go visit my brother and his fiance, Holly, like I normally would (or my mom, or my grandparents, etc., ect.). While I don't have reason to believe I was directly exposed to COVID-19, the virus was on campus, so I am self-isolating for the generally accepted two-week period. I wish I could isolate from Admiral Dad and Admiral Marie as well, for their safety, but the fact of the matter is I have to live somewhere. Ensign Cow Bell and Lieutenant Juju have given me an extra warm welcome. I have been showered with an excess of purring, head bumps, and

I didn't update yesterday because I was trying to walk a line between documenting an experience and living it. Yesterday was my last full day on Bard's campus as a student. I didn't want to lose any moment of it to sitting and writing it down. If you've been following up to this point, there are probably a few things you're wondering about, so the quick update is that everyone has a plan, and the whole crew will have reached our final destinations by Monday. Yesterday evening Chief of Security, Navigator, and I took a hike to the waterfall, one of my favorite spots on campus. It was one of the first spots on campus I visited back in L&T. After that we hung out in Pilot's room with her while she packed for a while. Then, knowing I was going to leave early the next morning, I said goodbye. Because of the leaving early my night probably should've ended there, but instead I went to my Communication Officer's room. We hung out and he made us dinner.

This week has been a whirlwind- stay, go, don't leave, get the fuck out now.  As the Captain mentioned, the admiralty has recalled me home from the ship.  For now.   As this wild adventure begins to fizzle out, I am brought back to the words of my personal favorite Existentialist philosopher (this is a Bard student writing, did you think I wouldn't mention some grand philosophical concept?)  Søren Kierkegaard on regret that I found myself musing over just last week, when we were all still so certain that we would be finishing the semester on campus.   "Marry, and you will regret it; don’t marry, you will also regret it; marry or don’t marry, you will regret it either way. Laugh at the world’s foolishness, you will regret it; weep over it, you will regret that too; laugh at the world’s foolishness or weep over it, you will regret both.… Hang yourself, you will regret it; do not hang yourself, and you will regret that too; hang yourself or don’t hang yourself, you’ll

It gets worse before it gets better, kids, but it's okay because nihilism has set it. Nothing matters was the mantra of the morning. I don't really want to stick with that, but we've definitely been feeling discouraged. In yesterday's update, I told you my First Officer and Chief Engineer had been called back. Later that night, we found out there was a metaphorical warp core breach that means most of us are being forced to use the escape pods. My Comms Officer, who I finally managed to catch up with last night, is staying behind because of how integrated he is in some away missions. The rest of us absolutely have to evacuate. There's a level of comfort in it. The uncertainty has worn on all of us. My Opps Ensign has been gone a while, sent home early by an unrelated illness. Tomorrow, my First Officer and Chief Engineer are both leaving. The next day, my Chief of Security and I will be gone. Only a couple days after that, our Pilot will go home. I wish I could sta

It looks like the ship might actually be going down. My First Officer and Chief Engineer have been called home by the Admiralty (our parents are the Admiralty). Chief Engineer was called home late last night, and First Officer was called in this morning. Neither of them have actually left yet, but both will be gone by Friday. This whole situation has developed in such a fucking bizarre way. A week ago, Spring Break was the biggest concern. We were being directed to cancel all non-essential travel because we might not be welcome back on campus if we left. Overnight, we had our first case and everything changed. Now I'm trying to get access to the library to get notes on my Senior Project back and we're all making plans about how we're going to leave if there's no other choice. I'm lucky. I live relatively close by, and my own Admiral has made staying or going my call, even in the worst case. I've decided to pack everything non-essential for day to day life in m

Today, I had my first digital class. My film class has moved to Zoom. My professor still has a few bugs to work out with that, but it seems like it's going to work. The program lets you put on a digital background, so I got to take my class from the bridge of a starship. My advising meetings for my Senior Project have gone online along with everything else. My advisor video called me all the way from Canada. At one point during our meeting, he paused to pick up his computer and show me the snow falling outside his window. That was certainly a spark of positivity in the midst of everything. The scientific nature of my Senior Project has given my advisor entirely too much confidence in my scientific knowledge. I know an awful lot about coral reefs and oceanography now, but I've never studied anything related to pandemics, unless you count a slightly unhealthy relationship with the phone game Plague Inc.  in high school. Still, I found the following graph that I thought explaine

We're going down with the ship. That's the phrase my friends and I have adopted as we've chosen to remain here at Bard College, the last campus to stay open in the Hudson Valley in the midst of the COVID-19 Pandemic. I know this because a meme page told me, and meme pages speak nothing but the truth: For real, though. I don't know that we're literally the only campus left, though it feels that way sometimes, but a lot of schools have closed. Bard... Bard has basically closed. At this point, every building on campus is closed aside from the dorms and our main dining hall, Kline, though even Kline is take-out only. The Campus Center is just open enough to receive mail through. That's it. The shuttle is technically still running, but it seems to have gone rogue. Some friends and I tried to use it earlier today, but it wasn't actually adhering to the usual schedule. I managed to step foot on it once, intending to meet my friends on it. Usually, it'