It was my birthday gift.  A trip to Alaska.  A freezing, icy, cold, bitter, yet interesting, trip to Alaska.  "Well, happy birthday to me." I said sarcastically to myself as I floated down the first of many near frozen rivers I would traverse in the next few days.  As we, the tour guide and I, were floating along down stream, I noticed beautiful, bountiful plant life.  By "plant life" I of course mean ice.  Tons of it, everywhere.  Whew! I tell ya.  It's a wonder I'd been paying two dollars and ninety-eight cents for it back home in Delaware.  I mean, we definitely don't have a shortage of it here.  I should break a piece of the not so raging rapids ahead of us.  That might last me a few decades.  I'll just steal a glacier.  I'll hide it under my shirt until I pass through customs in Canada.  I may look funny.  I'll just tell them I was exposed to radiation while passing through the Yukon.  They'll believe me.  They believe everything.  Anyway, we were floating.  Float, float down the river we go.  "La lee la woohoo" I thought to myself again, trying to remember all the people who pitched in for this trip.  Perhaps I'll get them a trip set up.  Possibly to somewhere like Cancun or maybe Hell.  Yeah I like that second one better.  You know, if hell did freeze over, this is what I'm sure it would resemble.  Honestly.  As we made it to the first checkpoint, the guide, a real life Eskimo, pointed toward the shore and told me to get out of the canoe thing we were in.  Well, as I stepped out, it turns out that we weren't quite to shore yet.  I stepped into a torrent of slush.  For about two minutes I was a snow cone flavor.  Then the genius Eskimo guide pulled me out laughing as if this was an everyday occurrence that couldn't be helped.  He told me I should go warm up.  He took me to his igloo.  His igloo!  Let's all go warm up in a house of ice.  Okay.  We went in and it was, very surprisingly, not warm.  "I'll light us a warm fire." He said.  Okay.  Does this bother anyone else?  A fire in an icehouse.  That's like, well like lighting fire in an icehouse.  It's just dumb in itself.  After a whopping twenty-five seconds of warmth for the fire he put it out.  "I hope you are feeling better.  The rest of the trip isn't this forgiving."  It was then I tied up the crazy Eskimo man, lit myself a fire, and sat in front of it to spite him.  I left it lit as I walked out to find my way home.  This seemed like a good idea at the time.  Guess what.  It wasn't.  My question is, if those bears are white, how are you supposed to see them coming.  Also, what is the difference between solid snow and thin ice.  Okay I know that one.  Remember how I told you it was one of many rivers.  Well I had to swim across one to get to this lodge thing.  Two large men with guns guarded the only other way in.  They were dressed in winter camo.  Weirdoes.  So I swam the river.  Here's the fun thing.  When I jumped in I felt refreshed, and also stupid.  Like the Green Bay fans who strip down to next to nothing and run around in the winter sledding down hills on their beer bellies.  I guess the alcohol really does keep them warm.  But as I was saying, this lodge was heavily guarded.  For a minute, I thought it may be a military fort of some kind, but I dismissed that thought as the cold air froze the blood in my brain and I went into seizures. When I woke up, possibly thirty minutes later, I was surrounded by…ice.  Duh.  I climbed up to the fence to the lodge.  There was a bit of barbed wire around the top, but nothing I couldn't handle.  Then it hit me.  What if this wasn't a lodge?  I mean look, it adds up.  Guards carrying rifles in camo, barbed wire perimeter fence, high security, I think it must've been a high school, possibly junior high.  No, there were no kids dragging around the halls.  I could see in the window.  No kids, but there was a large man sitting on an odd silver chair.  He was reading a magazine of some sort.  I suppose this was his room.  I stopped looking in.  The window was much too small to sneak into anyway.  I'd have to find a better way in.  I looked up.  Above me there was a giant floodlight.  Actually there were many along the building.  I found another window.  I could plainly see into the main area of the lodge.  They had a giant pool, a hot tub, a basketball court, a track, weights, and some odd miscellaneous machinery around.  "Jackpot" I said aloud.  I heard one of the guards moving toward me.  I tunneled my way under the snow and covered myself back up.  He walked right over me.  I wondered if he had heard my intense screams of pain as the spikes of his boot met the middle of my face.  Probably not.  He didn't try to dig me up.  I dug down further and found a makeshift tunnel.  Apparently someone else had tried to break into this great place before me.  I dug down and went into the tunnel.  By now, all pain I had been feeling was gone due to the fact that my entire person was numb beyond belief.  I came up from my tunnel in the men's restroom.  It was set up weird.  The showers were all open.  "Perhaps it's like those Greek bath things you hear about in history, just with showers." I thought.  Boy was I right.  I felt a bit awkward there, so I moved on.  I went to the weights.  I began lifting.  All the other men there were in odd uniforms.  They had numbers and things like that on their shirts.  I figured that was their membership number.  Perhaps it provided easy access to certain things so you didn't have to recite it every time you wanted a new service or massage or something.  I was still in my Eskimo gear.  I stripped my coat and over pants off.  It was now to warm.  I lifted weights a while in my stylish gray sweatpants and my novelty t-shirt that said "Alaska, more than just ice and an oil pipe!" on it.  I got it from a gift shop at the visitor center.  I soon got tired and decided I should probably find some other clothes.  I followed signs to the laundry room.  I took one of those camo shirts that the guards had on and a pair of pants like one of the premier members of this club.  I put on the clothes and went to find a kitchen.  I was still kind of sneaking around, as I feared I might be recognized as different.  They seemed to like conformity here.  Oh well, don't look a gift horse in the mouth.  I don't know what that means exactly or what a "gift horse" is but this seems like where I should fit the old adage in.  I found the kitchen.  They had a lot of crackers.  There were some canned goods sitting around, and also some odd-looking meat.  Possibly beef or more than likely seal liver.  I hadn't seen a whole lot of cows here in Alaska.  Oh well.  I was hungry.  I grabbed some crackers, some canned peas, and a piece of the mystery meat.  I made myself a quaint little sandwich.  It tasted like crap, but hey, it was food.  As the hours went by I got a bit tired.  The rooms for these premiers were very odd.  They opened and shut at the same time.  They were really, really into conformity here.  All the lights went out at the same time and I was left in the dark hallway.  I couldn't sleep here.  It was hard as concrete.  It was concrete.  "I need to pee!" I shouted into the dark, hoping they would open a nearby door allowing me to sneak in.  "You have a toilet!" A shout came back.  They had their own toilets in these rooms.  "My roommate is having a seizure," I shouted.  Immediately, two doors slammed open, then a third.  I saw a man get dragged out of his room.  It was still dark but the flashlight the man was getting beaten with provided enough light.  I figured that the beating was some form of Alaskan massage maneuver for ailing premiers.  It seemed to work.  They helped the man back into the room, that I was now in, and he laid right on the floor.  He was that relaxed.  He didn't ask me for his bed back so I slept there.  When morning came, we all knew it.  A loud bell siren thing went off.  Everyone was up and ready in no time.  The doors flew open and into a line we went.  I snuck out of it.  I wanted to go take a shower and leave.  Maybe I'd find a McDonald's for breakfast.  I had quite enough of the seal liver surprise last night.  I went to a showerhead and turned it on.  I looked around for some of those little shampoos and conditioners so I could use some and take some, as a souvenir.  It was then I noticed the soap on a rope.  Suddenly it hit me.  I was in a prison.  I didn't see any other signs but this, this was a sure fire clue.  I had to go.  So I found my way back to where I came in, and I quickly ran out.  And just so you know.  I took the shampoos and conditioners and even some of the soap.  Hey, old habits die hard.  Actually they hardly ever die.  Anyways, I was free.  No longer would I suffer the torture of the free hot tub, swimming pool, sports facilities, and decent sleeping quarters.  I was scared.  Boy, I'll tell ya.  Crime really doesn't pay.  I decided to continue on my journey.  I found my way to a tourist information spot.  I looked for car rental areas, but all I could find were sled dogs.  So I rented some.  Thank goodness for traveler's checks.  I tried to remember all of the dog-sledding training I had gotten from watching movies.  I got behind the sled, grabbed the reigns, yelled "mush" snapped the whip, and then got bit by about twelve dogs.  Try again I thought.  This time, no whip.  So I tried again.  It worked.  We were off.  The dogs ran pretty fast.  One of the dogs however seemed to be injured or to small, so he got dragged most of the trip.  I felt bad and wanted to stop, but I figured if I pulled back on the reigns to hard I would get bit again, so I chose him to suffer and not me.  Seeing as I couldn't very easily have stopped the dogs, I let them run until we got a good ways into Canada.  The dogs showed signs of weariness.  I decided to let the rest at the nearest rental place.  I then gave my dogs up.  Something about they had to visit the vet.  I guess they were due for shots or something.  The kind gentlemen behind the counter offered me a snowmobile.  He said if it got tired it would just need gasoline.  Crazy man.  Machines don't get tired.  What was he on?  Hehehe.  So anyway I took the snowmobile and set off towards the U.S. of A.  Let me tell you something.  When riding that fast on a snowmobile, you build up a lot of snot.  I don't mean to be gross or anything, but I could've saved it and filled up an aquarium for my snotfish.  As I was driving through Canada I noticed that everyone there, whether they spoke English or French, they put they word "Ay" after every sentence.  I started to do this after getting used to it ay.  I saw a Canadian Mountie police guy on my way through a crowded snow covered neighborhood.  Unfortunately I saw him a little late and ran him over.  Don't worry; he was okay after the twelve-hour surgery.  I guess I shouldn't have driven through random people's yards.  I nearly took out a paperboy too.  In Canada they wrap all their papers up in plastic bags and the front page is made of metal to resist the moisture of the snow.  Plus metal is easier to throw than paper.  More expensive, but I think they are trying to make paper toss an Olympic event.  After many hours and many tanks of gas for the snowmobile I made it to the border.  They wouldn't let me leave the country.  Something about how the snowmobile wouldn't work anymore because there was no snow.  Now what good would transportation be if it only worked on snow.  I think that they were just trying to keep in Canada because I hadn't spent enough money to support their vast music programs that gave hope to such talents as Celine Dion, Bryan Adams, and the Toronto Blue Jays.  But nonetheless, I left.  I walked into America.  I felt like an immigrant seeing the new land from a boat toward Ellis Island, only I was walking into a forest in North Dakota.  They talk strange there.  You see, all the other states have it wrong.  It's actually pronounced "Narth Dakoota".  I met a man there.  He was a logger.  How stereotypical I thought.  He told me that he was about to go eat supper.  I was then invited.  So I ask if he was paying.  He said that he would, so I went.  We went to the International House of Pancakes.  He ordered a big stack.  I ordered some pancakes.  They don't have a whole lot of selection there at those Pancake Houses.  You can get pancakes, waffles, sausage, and/or pancakes.  So after I had my fill, and carefully tasting all the different varieties of syrup, like maple, strawberry, that's it. We left.  He wanted me to meet his girlfriend but he didn't have one.  So I left there for fear that he may want to show me more than his lodge and his ax if you catch my meaning.  I rented a truck to get me a few miles doon the rood…I mean down the road.  I pick up accents easy, sorry.  I made it to South Dakota.  Not any better there.  I kept driving.  I made all the way down and across to Illinois.  You know what I found there.  Corn, oh and soybeans.  That's about it.  I guess those people from Chicago have it right.  Nothing exists below Springfield, and it only exists because it's the capital.  Apparently the southern part of Illinois is a black hole.  I'd believe it.  Of course I drove through at night so it kind of looked like one.  As I drove through Kentucky I stopped to go on a date with my cousin from there.  Hey when in Kentucky do as a Kentuckian would, or is that Greeks in Greece, oh well either way.  She didn't know I was her cousin.  She didn't remember me.  Dating your cousin is not all it's cracked up to be.  Her second and third mouth caused by a long history of incest got annoying after awhile.  So I left there.  Much driving ensued.  I kept driving until I almost went insane.  I guess it was extended cabin fever.  That was my poor attempt at a joke.  You see the truck had an extended cab and cabin fever is, oh never mind.  I was driving a lot, okay.  So I drove and drove some more.  Finally I was back in beautiful Delaware.  As I passed the state line I sang the Delaware national anthem.  "Oh Delaware, Oh Delaware, God shed his grace on thee, All other states came in to late so give blessings to me."  I nearly was brought to tears on the recital of that song.  I thought back to my days in school.  Learning geography.  One thing about that class that I didn't understand and, after this experience I still don't.  Why the heck is Alaska part of the U.S.  Is Canada just being mean and holding it so far away.  It would be a decent state if it weren't so far north that it was frozen.  We ought to tell Canada that we want to own a small strip of land leading up to it.  That way all the maps in geography books don't have to be separated and confusing.  It would also introduce more American culture into Alaskans, and get rid of those weird traditions they have up there.

Well, that's my lecture for today class.  I know you may think I'm a bit ethnocentric, but I think I'm right.  Have a good day.  Don't forget the quiz on Principles of Sociology next time.  Dismissed.