First world problems

Guess what? I did it. I have arrived. If I were Latin, someone would be throwing me a quinceanera. If I were the daughter of Lord and Lady Grantham, this would be my first London party. You get the idea.

I got an iPhone.

I know, Droids are better, I just sold myself to the Apple power who wants to take over my brain, blah blah blah.

It's my first smart phone, and I am stoked. I ordered it online and it got sent here in 2 days (which is miraculous for Alaska shipping standards). Today, I opened it, and started going through the activation process. After some problems and calling tech support, I was given devastating news.

I can't activate here in Alaska because I have Verizon and Verizon is not America's largest network because Alaska is part of America but Verizon is not in Alaska. Soon they'll be here, they tell me. I meant to tell them "well AT&T is here." But they were actually really nice and helpful so I didn't want to be rude.

I have to ship my iphone home so my mommy can activate it and ship it back up. For a couple of days I will have no cell service. Gasp, I know. The world actually might come to an end on Friday.

In more uplifting news, I've started to write. Like actually write a story. I don't know where it's going to go, but it makes me really happy. It's what I'm supposed to do.

And because I can't really get you all a Christmas gift, this is my gift to you. These are my jams that have inspired and motivated me to write and be happy. You should listen to them.

You're welcome.

In no particular order:

Take A Walk by Passion Pit

This song almost makes me want to take a walk, but then I realize it's -40, so I just take a walk in my head.

 

Madness by Muse

This song describes so much of life. Especially my life. Not that I've been in love, but when I am, I'm pretty sure it will be madness. Favorite part is at 4:10 (on the music video version anyway). Wow. It just builds and you feel the power and you feel like you've been blasted into space.

 

 

We Come Running by Youngblood Hawke

I'm pretty sure there's a kid's chorus in the background and it gives it a unique sound. I really like this music video. Most music videos are like "meh, whatever" but if you watch one of these, it should be this one.

 

Wanted by Hunter Hayes

Okay, this kid is only 21-years-old. I would not mind at all if he sang this to me (and meant it, of course). This video isn't my favorite, but his facial expressions are pretty endearing. I'm pretty picky in my Country selection, but I really like his stuff. 

Now I'm sure you're thinking "what, no female artists?" Not for today's list. Maybe next time.

Some interesting facts about some of the above: Hunter Hayes has Grammy nominations for best new artist, best Country solo performance, and best Country album. Muse's Madness was nominated for Best Rock Song.

My only concern is that these songs are going to get way overplayed on the radio and then it will be like when an Adele song comes on -- you really love it but you can't stand it anymore. Sigh, I guess good music just goes that way.

I love these songs because they make me feel. And I want to write stuff that makes people feel. Whether it be passion, or excitement or sadness. Don't worry, I'm not planning on writing 51 Shades of Neutral or anything like that.

And if I don't write for awhile, Merry Christmas! 

Just How Cold Is It In Fairbanks? Part 2

Last week it dumped snow. That's not even the best part. The best part is it got up to 20 degrees. As in 20 above 0. I think that lasted 1.5 days. It snowed so much they canceled school because the buses couldn't get through it (Fairbanks is used to snow, but it was over a foot in a 24 hour period and they just couldn't keep up with clearing the roads). It was my day off, and I had plans to go out and do things, but Deb told me not to try to drive anywhere because the roads were so bad.

Luckily, by the time I had to go to work the next day, the roads were basically cleared. Deb said when this much snow happens at once they have to haul it out of the city, because you can't exactly keep making a snow wall on the side of the road. I guess technically you could, but then people would get really mad.

Speaking of a snow wall, at the university they make an ice wall every year. As soon as the temps start dropping below freezing they start to spray water onto this 35 foot frame and before you know it, ice wall! You can then rent gear to climb it. Like rock climbing, except slightly colder. And slipperier. And colder.

Remember how I said it got up to 20 degrees? Well I'm pretty sure the weather was climbing an ice wall and suddenly fell off because within 30 hours or so it dropped to -40. That's a 60 degree difference. On my laptop it says it's currently -46. Today we only had the first hour of church because of the temperature. Winter church regulations: -30 church is 2 hours, -40 church is 1 hour, -50 church is optional. It's because they don't have outlets in the parking lot so we can't plug our cars, meaning they will literally freeze if left out in those conditions too long.

It's too cold even for ice. Let me explain. There's a lot of ice sculptures around here, because, well they can make them in November and they'll last until April and why not. But if it gets too cold, the ice gets brittle and the sculptors can't work with the ice and then the wings start falling off angels and then you have to glue them back on and then Tinkerbell dies. Tragic.

Coming home from work tonight I'm pretty sure I small icicle formed on the corner of my eye. I wanted to give it a name, like Squishy, except Freezy, and it would be all mine. Instead it melted and died.

The ice fog was the worst I've seen it tonight. At one point I only could see 10 feet in front of me. What's ice fog? Ice fog is when all the car exhaust, pollution, smoke from wood burning stoves and other particulates freeze and get trapped in low levels. So exactly like regular fog, except this stuff is miniscule ice crystals of crap. When you're driving behind cars you have to have a greater following distance because the exhaust immediately freezes and it's like driving through Puff the Magic Dragon, minus the drug references. 

In fact, a couple of weeks ago Fairbanks had the worst pollution in the whole nation, and greater than most places in the world, besides big cities in China. Thanks China -- we didn't want to be number one in that category. Don't worry, in the summer there's hardly any pollution, unless there's a fire, then there's a bunch of ash, so take that and smoke it.

Here's me in a frozen sleigh with a frozen Santa in North Pole. He also had 8 ice reindeer, but I didn't feel like straddling something that would undoubtedly chap my thighs and perhaps sterilize me from ever having children.



Now I need to clarify something. There are few things in my life that I am able to have bragging rights over, and living in Fairbanks during the winter is one of them. Someone (I won't mention names...) challenged me because she stated that she had lived in a certain southeastern Idaho town where there's a certain LDS owned college and once it got to 50 below.


Being the good researcher and humble bragger that I am, I checked up on that. The coldest it's gotten in that certain potato growing village was -30 back in the 80s. It rarely drops below -20.

Whew. Glad I got that off my chest. I feel better.

And for those of you going to warm destinations for Christmas, like, I don't know, Hawaii... I hope you have a wonderful time. And that the ice machine in the hotel starts spewing ice into your room. That is all.

Just how cold is Fairbanks cold? Part I: Cars

In our paper we put a graphic of the state of Alaska with the weather forecast for main cities (all 6 of them). For Anchorage, which is 6 hours south of us, the high was -1 and the low was -8 and the blurb said something like "Sunny and very cold with snow flurries in the evening."

For Fairbanks, the high was -30 and the low was -36 and the blurb said "Some sun and very cold with cold snap continuing through the week."

Let's break this down. The difference between -1 and -30 is 29 degrees. That's the difference between a nice 71 degree day and a hot 100 degree day. You notice how I use different adjectives: nice vs. hot. The Eskimos may have 40 different words for "snow," but apparently anything below 0 is just "very cold." 

Mark Zuckerberg has yet to create the facebook option where you can feel things through the internet, so I'm going to have to explain what -35 is, because I'm betting most of you haven't experienced it.



Fairbanks "very cold" is so cold that you have to plug your car in while you're at work, else your engine, oil and battery would freeze. At many work places, such as mine, they have these posts with outlets that you plug a freeze fancy extension cord into and the other end into a plug coming out the front of your car. They even light up so you know there's juice flowing. 

It's true. I'm cheating. These aren't my pics, but they're linked back to the original site. Don't go too judgmental on me, I'm living in very cold weather.

Now, some people have this sweet device called an auto start for their cars. The device is attached to your key chain and before you go outside you push the button for your car to start so it gets warm before you have to risk your life. It takes about 10-15 minutes, depending on how comfy cozy you want your car to be. Really fancy auto starts have sensors inside the car and if the inside temperature gets below -5, it automatically turns the car on to warm it back up.

I do not have an auto start. I did recently buy a car, and it would be awesome to have one, but getting an auto start installed is about a quarter of what I paid for the car, so it's just not worth it to me.

Because of this, when I get into my car at the end of the night, it is slightly cold inside. I recently bought these extreme gloves that are leather and down goose feather crazy insulated; in fact if I wear them inside for more than 2 minutes my hands start to sweat -- but it's so cold these gloves aren't cutting it because I can feel the cold radiating from the steering wheel. I don't grip the steering wheel very hard.

This concludes this section of "Just how cold is Fairbanks cold?" Stay tuned for more informative reasons on why I deserve lots more gifts this year.

Highlight

On the inside front cover (A2) is a brief summary of the weather. There is the high and low of the day (H 9 L -5), the sunrise (8:51 a.m.) and sunset (4:05 p.m.), the percent of snowfall (30%), and minutes of daylight lost (6 minutes and 44 seconds). And then a cute weather icon picturing what the day is supposed to be like.

I am then supposed to write a short 3-4 line phrase interpreting the forecast, and they told me I could be creative with it.

Let me repeat that. They told me I could be creative with it. 

This is the highlight of my work night.

I get to type out words from my head and they get to be published in a newspaper. The second largest paper in the largest state.

For the first week, I kept it within the limits of a stagnant pond. I was still putting my feelers out for my new environment. The last two days -- well let's just say the tadpole got some legs and is walking out of the pond.

Because honestly, there are only so many words that rhyme with sunny, cloudy and cold. And those three words are what the weather will always be for a long time.

Two days ago, it was supposed to be cloudy with some sun. I wrote "After the sun hides behind the clouds, look for clouds that are shaped like mythological creatures." Yesterday, cloudy all day "If clouds were cotton candy, there will be lots of cotton candy in the sky." Today's cloudy and cold "On this cloudy day, dare a friend to eat ice cream outside. And then run away."

Ladies, and gentlemen, I am just warming up.

I want to be that girl that my editor gets calls about "You have just got to tell me who writes your weather reports. They're brilliant!" or "Do the world a favor and let me hire this girl and help her achieve greatness while paying her loads of money."

I want to be that girl that when Katie Couric asks what was the main turning point in my road to fame I'll look sentimentally off to the right and say "Writing the weather reports, Katie."

I want to be that girl that gets her honorary meteorologist degree and makes surprise visits during the nightly news weather report, much to the glee and happiness of all who are present.   

I want to be that girl that gets perfume named after her (I'm thinking "Cloudy, With A Chance of Eternity, by Elissa")

Because that girl needs only three lines a day to slide her way into the hearts of many and the noses of none.

Why I Love Alaska

1. The bumper stickers. Those that say "Tok Alaska: We're not all there because we're all here." Or "Where the hell is Chicken Alaska?" And how could we forget "I can see Russia from my house." As one person pointed out, Alaska bumper stickers are like an inside joke, because the only people most likely to read them are...other Alaskans.

2. Driving erratically because you're watching the northern lights in the night sky.

3. Going on walks when it's 5 degrees and seeing moose only 10 feet away.

4. The crunch of snow. The other day someone said they hated that sound. I'm not sure how they're dealing with everyday life here.

Want to see what I see everyday? This is the arctic cam, which is a real time view from the building I work in, the Daily News-Miner.

This Post May Be Boring

I made it to Alaska.

In case you were wondering, it's cold and dark.

And I'm lonely.

Maybe this should be my eharmony profile. I'm sure the over protective/jealous/chester molester creeps would come slimeing through the wood works.

I moved into the home of the Maynes', basically my adoptive family up here. He's the first counselor in the single's branch and him and his wife and family are just the greatest. They recently became empty nesters, so I made sure to remedy that situation by moving in.

Unfortunately, Deb's mother passed away in Georgia this past Wednesday, so her and Doug flew down there and will be getting back this coming Wednesday.

They have two dogs, Otter (a chocolate lab) and Ali (a black lab mix), and have so far been my only companions. Right now they're fighting...now they've made up and Ali is sniffing Otter's butt.

The Maynes' home is in the hills of Fairbanks, and has a beautiful view of the valley. One day I'll take a picture. Until then, just pretend how you'd draw "Fairbanks valley in the winter" for Draw Something, and it will give you a fairly close idea.

So it's somewhat isolated, which is nice, but also a little scary. Especially being here all by myself. That's why I take the Dall sheep head that Doug has mounted on the wall to bed with me every night. It in no way shape or form causes disturbing shadows.

I'm sure you're all dying to know how my job is going.

I flew in Wednesday at 11 p.m., and started my first day on the job Thursday at 3 p.m. I figured I might as well follow Will Smith and get jiggy with it. Which, by the way, does anyone get jiggy with it anymore?

Tangent: Because I'm writing this in real time, because I have yet to master fake time writing, I'll tell you that I've been keeping updated on the potential tsunami in Hawaii. Last time there was a potentially huge tsunami in Hawaii I fell asleep watching the television coverage. Looks like they were spared again.

Back to the topic at hand.

I wake up, let the dogs out, eat something, and think about being productive as I mindlessly check Facebook (it is imperative to my mental health to know just how many people liked my status). Then I get ready for the day, take the dogs for a walk, come back and check Facebook again, find something else to eat, count the fibers in the carpet, make a lunch, and go to work.

I work as a copy editor/page designer for the Fairbanks Daily News Miner. I have a desk facing other desks (picture "The Office) with a computer, on the second floor of a building with few windows. I work 4:30 p.m. to 12:30 a.m. There are only about 7 of us there during that time, and because everyone is concentrating on their work, it is very quiet. The only noise comes from the police scanner, which most of the time doesn't come in clearly so it sounds like aliens gurgling mouthwash. I think Van Gogh had the same thing in his studio, and I now know why he chapped his ear off.

Everyone has been very nice and polite to me and no one has yet to question my sanity. We'll see how long that takes.

I open pre-formatted templates and insert news stories accordingly. Sometimes I'll place a picture. Then I make sure all the lines are straight and the i's are dotted and I print it. Two other copy editors look over it; I make corrections to errors they've found and then I start work on the next page. While I'm working on my pages, I'll stop to proof pages from the other editors, because every page gets edited twice.

Towards the end of the night I'll upload stories to the website. Then, once my pages are sent to the press, I sit around until 12:30 or the first paper comes off the press (we then do a quick glance over to make sure there are no huge errors), whatever comes first, and then I go home.  

So besides having to remember 109 different style idiosyncrasies, it's fairly simple and straight forward.

And this brings us to the thesis of this post (I've never been one for nutshell versions).

I'm bored.

And I hate myself for it. Millions of people world over do mind numbing work day in and day out and are content with their lives. They're content that they are able to bring home a paycheck and feed themselves and their families and pay the bills. This is the definition of adulthood. And I can't or won't accept it.

Obviously, I'm probably just an ungrateful brat that needs to embrace the monotony of life.

Coming home from work tonight I was thinking about all of this. What would a life without boredom look like?

Things that would not be boring:
1. Getting kidnapped.
However, this would be terrifying. And you'd miss out on the media coverage, and who wants to miss their own 15 minutes in fame?

2. Epic Disaster.
Also terrifying. And I don't relish the thought of some cannibal wanting to eat me (my Uncle was watching the movie The Road the other night).

3. Running for President.
Purely insane. Would shave 26+ years off your life. On the plus side, you could make the Secret Service play hide and go seek with you in the White House.

4. Doing drugs.
I'd do this, but I completed the DARE program in 5th grade, so I just say no to that option.

5. Being a dog with ADHD.
I think this describes Otter. He always seems so happy.

6. Having short term memory loss.
Also may describe Otter. Only problem with this is what if you were having a a not boring time and then forgot about it? The only remedy would be to date Adam Sandler.

And so, as we can see, there doesn't seem to be too many great options.

That's why I decided to eat an ice cream cone and check Facebook. Because telling your friends about your calorie intake via dairy products is definitely un-boring.

I'm With Child/s!

Many of my friends have kids, have a singular kid, have just been through labor to have a kid, or ripening with pregnant bellies.

Alas, I cannot fit any of those descriptions at this time. Okay, sometimes it does appear that I'm ripening to moldy fruit stage when I'm unmotivated to shower, but that's about it.

No, I'm not complaining. Sure, sometimes I feel like my eggs can be categorized under "fine wine," but it's not like I'm going to rob a sperm bank.

Let's just pretend I didn't type that last thought.

I'm the oldest of 6 kids, so I always felt like I was the second mother. Heck, I was babysitting by the age of 5. Oh, I know that probably shocks some of you, because apparently most people think it's highly illegal if not outright bad-parent-of-the-year worthy.

But you have to understand. Anytime my mom or dad would leave the room with both my sister and I in it, I would consider it babysitting. Had I been able to get my hands on a taxi meter, I probably would have started charging my parents, but there is that obnoxiously great quality of saintliness that I do tend to possess -- so I chalked it up to charity work.

I did a lot of charity work as a child.

But I digress. I wanted to dedicate a post to the things in my life that I treat as my babies, so I can feel included in the mommy and daddy club (obviously I haven't reached Platinum Umbilical Cord Member status).

Baby #1 -- My Nails (totes sounds like a card from Apples to Apples, doesn't it?)
Lately I've given birth to an obsession with finger nail polish, specifically on my fingers. I decided clothes can shrink or you can become too fat for them, but finger nail polish lasts forever. Like diamonds. So technically, diamond finger nail polish would last forever ever, but not in the Taylor Swift ever ever sort of way.

I've purchased lots of new colors to feed my growing habit. It's progression is incredible. The great thing about it is when it's really annoying me, I just take a cotton swab of acetone to it. I don't recommend taking a cotton swab of acetone to real babies. Cotton swabs of breast milk are adequate.

Baby #2 -- Reading Books
People say there is something special about cradling a new baby. Babies even have this "baby smell;" somewhat like a new car smell, although I have yet to see a tree shaped air freshener featuring the new baby scent. Well, holding a book close to your bosom can also be special. And books also have their own great smell, unless they're e-readers, then it just smells like China.

What I'm trying to say is -- there's that moment when you look down on a page of text, getting lost in a world of magic and mystery; and you know, without the cooing noises, that this book loves you back. Until it becomes 5 weeks overdue, and then you want to treat it like a redheaded step child. Which I slightly take offense to.

Side note: just finished reading Brandon Sanderson's The Way of Kings. Uber long, but uber amazing.

Baby #3 -- Television Shows on Netflix
Let's be honest, the movie selection on Netflix leaves something to be desired. But what Netflix is great at is having this insane collection of television shows. So many different choices to get addicted to, so little time. It's exactly like these high tech baby monitors where you can watch your baby as he slumbers. Except for these shows are way more exciting and plot driven than the monotonous in and out breathes that a baby takes during sleepy sleepy time. Oh, excuse me. I forgot to mention the occasional drool.

I spend just as much time, if not more, watching shows on Netflix than a parent does watching their baby on a monitor. Whose a better parent now?

Additional side note: just finished Sherlock on Netflix. Big fan.

Baby #4 -- My Bed (another great Apples to Apples card)
Go on any parenting website and you'll find hundreds of forums and advice/debate about getting babies to sleep. You would think that babies never sleep the way everyone goes on and on. But my bed, my Baby #4, it does just the opposite. It puts me to sleep. And I slumber so nicely. What new parents and I do have in common is that horrible separation anxiety thing. Seriously, each time I have to leave my bed, I just want to throw a fit.

You know, writing this makes me feel so much better about life. I may not have my own bundles of joy, but I  have four of my own unique beautiful babies that I get to enjoy. I'm even considering throwing myself a shower and registering at Amazon. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to get an invite.

Joe and Wife

I have a math word problem for you:

Joe and his wife are retired and decided to go on a fabulous trip to Alaska. Because they are retired they're a little closer to relocating to the cemetery than most of us, but they have years of wisdom behind them. Joe and his wife attend a popular tourist attraction in Fairbanks, Alaska, where they are dropped off by a 45 ft. motor coach.

There are 21 other large motor coaches in the vicinity. All of them either coming or going. If Joe and his wife walk directly in front of a motor coach without bothering to
a) look to see if the coach is about to move
b) look to see if there's a driver frustrated that dumb tourists won't move out of her way or
c) notice that they are, in fact, in front of a 46,000 pound metal beast; how long will it take before Joe and his wife relocate their retirement home to the cemetery?

 There are actually 3 possible answers for this question (I didn't say this was normal math).
1) Joe and his wife will not die because the bus will hit Marge and her husband who are closer to the front of the bus than Joe and his wife.

2) Joe will die, but not by being hit by the bus, because the bus driver is responsible and courteous and doesn't feel like having a death on her hands. Joe will die because he ate too much salmon at the Salmon Bake the night before.

3) Joe will almost die, but be saved by the cushioning of his billowing nose hairs. His wife will almost die, but the motor coach will be stopped by the absurd amounts of souvenirs that say "Alaska" (but were made in China).

Thank you, Joe and wife.

Someone hired me!

Remember this gem that I wrote? Well, apparently it got me a job. Or someone bribed them to get me a job. Or they felt pity for a California girl deciding to stay for an Alaskan winter.

What happened is they called me up, had a nice little phone interview, then asked me to come in for a real person interview, then told me I had to take an editing test.

An editing test?

It's been 2.5 years since I graduated college. I haven't exactly been writing analytical essays on middle century prose. And I'm a frequent visitor of facebook, and we all know how bad grammar on facebook is (or you're a repeat offender and have no idea -- sorry to burst your bubble).

The first page had 50 words on it and I had to circle the misspelled words. People, that is what the automatic red squiggly line is for when you're typing anything. And it didn't have words like "dawg" or "kat" either. We're talking words like "chauffeur" and "nonchalant" and "graffiti" and "ptarmigan." Okay, not ptarmigan (which, by the way is Alaska's state bird and is pronounced without the p).

Next page had 15 sentences and I had to choose which word was the most correct. As in "Jenny's neighbor had a great (affect/effect) on her."

You feeling my pain?

The third page had more sentences, but this time I had to edit them completely -- spelling, grammar, word choice, AP style, and then translate back into Latin. I skipped that page to come back to until the very end.

Fourth page's title was "General Knowledge." I'm going to type up as much as I remember. Let's see how well you do. I'm going to type my answer first, and the real answer I'm going to type in white so you'll have to highlight the text to see the correct answer. It's kind of like monopoly without any of the fake money!

List the capitols of these states:
California -- Sacramento  Sacramento
New York -- Rochester  Albany
Washington -- Seattle  Olympia
Oregon -- Portland  Salem
Florida -- Tallahassee Tallahassee
Alaska -- Juneau Juneau

Name these people and their political party (I'm just going to out right assume you don't know the first three, because I sure as heck didn't, so I'll just type the correct answer)

Alaska's Governor: Sean Parnell
Alaska's Senators: Lisa Murkowski and Mark Begich
Alaska's Congressman: Dong Young (yeah, they only have one).

United State's Speaker of the House: John Boehner Repulican
Secretary of State: Hillary Clinton Democrat

Then there was a list of notable/famous people that I had to explain why they were notable/famous. There were only three names that I didn't know, so I don't remember them. Others that I did know (or at least think I did): George Lucas, Steve Jobs, 'DWTS', Lance Mackey, John Boehner, Vladimir Putin, Hugo Chavez.

The last part of the general knowledge section was my favorite. It was a math section. We're just going to say I wasn't able to fill in all the blanks, but I am pretty proud of the blanks I did fill in.

Final and last part of this whole boondoggle was I was given these "notes" and told to write a news story. Fairly simple. Probably not my best, but at least I didn't put any made up facts in there (which I was for sure tempted to).

I had 1.5 hours to complete all of this. To be a copy editor they want you to get a score above 75%. I'm telling you right now, the odds are very slim that I got close to that.

Later that day, they called me back, offering me a job. I said I'd think about it, because that's what you do with a grown up job. Unfortunately, I think I already gave away the ending of this story, because the next day I did accept.

Major downside of this job: I'll be working 4:30 p.m. to 12:30 a.m. five days a week. Toodles to the social life. Sigh. At least I am a night owl. And when I leave work there will be no traffic and I'll get the chance to see the northern lights all the time.

I won't start for another 3 weeks, because I'm currently on vacation. More about vacation after I've sipped my pina colada...

And Then He Shot Me

This past Friday I was heading to Denali and two state troopers with their lights and sirens on passed me. Then I saw 10 more troopers, 2 ambulances, and a dinosaur. Maybe not the dinosaur. One trooper that I passed on the side of the road was getting out his assault riffle. Something was definitely up. I then got to Denali and picked up my guests, and was heading back to Fairbanks when we were stopped by a trooper who had set up a road block and was talking to everyone going north bound.

The trooper (with his massive Alaskan gun) came up to my window and said "for the next 15 miles be on the look out for a white male hitch hiker. Do not stop for him, do not talk to him, keep driving and radio in or call 911 and tell us your mile marker, he has been involved in a shooting." Intense, right? Of course my guests were freaking out and one lady even started throwing up.

Okay, that didn't happen either.

But we did pass more troopers, as well as some soldiers from one of the bases, and they were all carrying heavy duty guns. I'm guessing they were Russian made.

I started envisioning a lone male hiker hiding out in the woods, and with his sniper riffle he was going to target one of the many tour buses (probably mine), and shoot me. Luckily, I would have only been wounded in the shoulder, so I'd be able to safely pull the bus over, turn on my hazards, chock my wheels, and then faint. He would take over the bus and it would become a hostage situation, and he would make us drive to the Canada border. At least there is a bathroom on board.

Having watched multiple action movies and spy shows, I'd pull out my acquired Micheal Weston skills and disarm him, all while driving the bus and keeping in between the lines. That's how good a driver I am. I would then lock him up in the bathroom...no, better yet, I'd throw him underneath in the luggage bay and I'd make sure to hit bumps going extra fast. I would then hand him over to the troopers and get my own reality tv show, which I would turn down because I'm humble like that.

But...that didn't happen. I later found out they found and shot the guy. He was some weirdo that had shot a hunter (at this time details of why he did that have not been released). My version would have been much cooler.

Sorry you don't get involved in Alaska trooper man hunts.


News Story Here

Goals and Foals

Dear Elissa Gator, 
I have been told by many people that I am a great writer and that I should pursue writing. The problem is I sit down to write and get stuck.

I fear I won't be as good as what people make me out to be. I fear I won't come up with great ideas. I fear my ideas will have already been done. I fear that my idea and ensuing story will be so great that I'll become famous and have to hide from the paparazzi. Any suggestions for an aspiring writer?
Wanda the Writer

Adnaw,
That's your name, but backwards. Actually, if we were going to be literal -- that's your name, but backwords. My name backwords is Rotag Assile; the first which is reminiscent of a dishwasher line, the second which sounds like a device for shooting missiles out of your...butt.

Putting the two together we can assume it's a clean missile shooting device, unless someone forgot to rotate the dial to "Heavy: Pots, Pans and Weaponry" and instead chose the "Light Spritzing" option.

Don't ever choose the light spritzing option.

Not only will it mess up the missiles, you'll be left with an itch that is unsightly to take care of in public.

I do believe I've accomplished so much more than I set out to for your reply.

You're welcome.

Dear Elissa Gator,
I've convinced myself to stay in Fairbanks, Alaska, for the winter. Will you help to super convince me?
Future Popsicle 

Snowflake,
The problem with convincing yourself of something is that you are just as capable of unconvincing yourself. One time I convinced myself I was a human, and just like that I convinced myself I was beaver. I started hoarding wood, and even splintered down my roommate's dining table set. Granted, it was 73% plastic, so it didn't make for the best wood products, but it still dammed up nicely.

The problem with 73% plastic composite is the rancid smell it emits during the summer months. Being a beaver, I didn't mind so much. I cared more about how I was going to find a mate. Which I think we as humans can relate to, or at least those sad enough to not have found a mate yet.

The hardest part about being a beaver was my dental insurance no longer covered the large bucking beaver teeth I was sporting. Sometimes, I'd get these huge chunks of wood stuck between my teeth, and all I could do was stare at myself in the water, wondering when would my reflection show who I was inside. You think paper cuts are the worse, try having a permenant wooden saw scratching at your gumline. I win.

I unconvinced myself that I was a beaver when a Russian tried to trap me for fur. I said "Aw, hell no!" to the trapper and poof! I was human again. Unfortunately, my two front teeth seem to be larger than before. But that will change when I convince myself I'm jellyfish and don't have to deal with silly nuisances like teeth.

You're welcome.

Hunting for the Elusive Job... Again

It's that time again! Where I get to play "who wants to be a millionaire slightly above average hourly wage earner?"

I found an ad to be a copy editor/page designer for the local newspaper in town. This is my email to them:

Once upon a time, Elissa Stewart, a woman from Rancho Cucamonga, Calif., decided to move to the greater white North (Fairbanks, Alaska, to be most accurate). There she towed around guests from the world over in 40 foot motor coaches, teaching them about the great state of Alaska and the historic city of Fairbanks. After many moons and hundreds of guests later, the leaves began to change and ice started forming on car windshields -- and she knew her driver guide days were about to come to an end.

Being one for adventure, she felt the call of the old sourdough miners, beckoning her to join the ranks of those who had survived a winter in Fairbanks. Despite her father's worries of staying in an increasingly darkening place, she journeyed through the internet looking for jobs that would keep her brain active and her heart beating.

When she came across the job listing on Journalismjobs.com for copy editor/page designer, it was as if she were Felix Pedro, finding her own creek rich in gold.

"I'll be able to use my bachelor's degree! The one I got from Brigham Young University - Idaho; where I majored in graphic design and minored in journalism" she said. Not to mention she obtained all the qualities any employer is looking for, so she did not bother to include cliche phrases that average job seekers list. 

It just so happened that at one time in her life she did page design for a newspaper, River City Weekly, in Idaho Falls, Idaho. Unfortunately, that paper contracted the dreaded newsprint influenza, and like so many other papers in the last few years, went out of business.

Hopefully, this paper experience would be different. She sent an email with her resume, as well as some examples of her design experience. And so she waits, hoping that like Felix, her much needed boat will come up the Chena.


I'll let you know when they send the looney bin to get me.

Where in the World Is Elissa SanDeGator

Work got really busy. And then it got really unbusy. So technically no great excuses for not blogging. But I made a goal at FHE to blog once a week.

So this is my life plan (and in life plan I mean my plan for this next year. Who really plans out their whole life?):
1. Stay in Alaska for the winter
    Yeah, this one is a little bit on the crazier side. I was trying to figure out where I should go after the bus driving thing ends (it ends next week fyi). I had multiple people pushing for me to move to Utah, but I felt like I would be settling if I just moved to Utah. I didn't want to move back home, because I was pretty sure I'd get back in a rut and maybe never move out. Then I started thinking about living abroad; but that was just an escape from reality, although I still would like to live abroad. And then my branch president said "You should stay here," and I thought "well if that's not the stupidest idea I've ever heard..."
    But I kept ruminating on the prospect and then one day I decided to ask the Lord where I was the most needed and Fairbanks, Alaska was the answer. Not only did I feel good about the decision, I felt delirious joy. I knew it had to be the right decision because people don't feel deliriously joyful about the prospect of living in Fairbanks for the winter.
    I don't know what I'll be doing for work, but I'm looking into it. I already have a place to stay -- the first counselor in the branch presidency and his wife offered for me to stay with them. I also have to purchase a car.

2. Do some sort of work up until August 2013 and then

3. Be cool like Madison and become a graduate student for a Creative Writing degree.

A couple of hiccups that are still stuck in my throat -- taking the GRE and compiling a writing portfolio that will fool the admissions board into admitting me.

I did buy a "study for the GRE" book, and have read the stuff that pertains to writing and vocab. I have yet had the muscle to read the stuff that pertains to math. I should drink more protein shakes.

If any of you have great writing prompts/stuff I should write about, I will take them into consideration. No prize money will be given out at this time.

Speaking of the greater white North, businesses have already started putting out Christmas decorations. Because apparently it's much easier to do it now while the weather is still warm enough. Hanging wreaths at -30 has caused too many worker comp suits. That's what they tell me, anyway.

The other hard part about all of this is that grad school seems so far away. It's almost a whole year before it starts! I fear that something will happen, like I'll marry an eskimo man and have to make ice cold love to him in his igloo, and I won't get to go to grad school. I know, I know, the Lord knows what is best and everything will work out.

This has been another "well that post was boring and all over the place" post from Elissa. Stay tuned to see if she stays on top of her goal.

Getting Smashed Without the Boos

Hi. Remember how I'm in Alaska and am having a grand 'ole adventure and can't be bothered with silly things like blogging all my grand adventures? Just checking.Well I have an adventure for you that I though should be posted.

I got in a car crash.

In Alaska.

In the middle of nowhere Alaska.

Actually, it was Mile Post 165 on the Parks Highway, Alaska. So it was somewhere, but even the Alaska State Trooper said we were in the middle of nowhere. Troopers know their stuff.

Mitch, Landon (a friend) and I had gone to Anchorage for the weekend (that will be another post entirely because we also had awesome adventures there). On Saturday, we picked up my friend Valerie from the airport. She was flying in from Bethel, Alaska (if you're ever bored, here's a fun thing about Bethel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uXQYrKiYQZw&feature=share but Valerie tells me a lot of it was dramatized, go figure).

The next morning we went to church that turned out to be a Samoan ward (church is still true, even in Samoan), and then started to make our way back up to Fairbanks. It was about a 6 hour drive, and I started us off. Here's us about 30 minutes before the crash:

I was getting really sleepy, so I pulled off and Mitch started driving. It started to rain fairly hard, as it is known to do at any time while driving on Alaska roads. Mitch had his cruise control on, and we were coming around a curve, and he knew he needed to slow down so he tapped on his brake to release the cruise control, but we started to hydroplane instead. He over corrected the wheel, which made us do a 180 into the opposite lane. We paralleled the side of the road for awhile until we hit a big construction sign that lights up, which spun us around again but stopped us.

Yes, we were in an accident but we were very blessed in many ways.

1) We didn't hit anyone. There was a car going opposite of us that saw the whole thing happened and later the guy helped out a lot, but we didn't hit him. Also, off to the left is a pull out and there was an RV parked there. They said they saw the sign coming at them, but it was so heavy it stopped soon enough.

2) We crashed in a great place. We were very close to going off into a ravine, while not steep would have caused a lot more injuries. The accident happened in the same spot as a pull off, so we didn't have to stand around in the forest and when all the emergency vehicles came it made it very convenient.

3) There were people there to help us out. The RV people and guy who was coming from the opposite direction directed traffic, and Paul (that was his name) let us sit in his car while we were waiting.
4) We got cell phone reception. For a majority of the road you can't get any cell reception, but thankfully Landon's phone got just enough for Mitch to call 911.

5) It stopped raining.

6) No one was seriously injured.

7) Besides Valerie's deodorant and my new bottle of hair mousse, there was no damage to any of our things.

And of course the above list isn't in order of most important. We all know #5 should be #1. Yes, #5. 

As soon as the car came to a stop the aforementioned witnesses rushed over to us. Mitch and I were fine and easily opened our doors and walked out; the brunt of the damage happened on the passenger side (Landon was front passenger side, Valerie was back passenger side). Besides a cut on my head (which I think was from flying glass), there was no blood. Valerie was disoriented and kept saying "what just happened? I'm so confused." Landon was groaning but perfectly conscious.

We were finally able to get Valerie to come out of the car and put her in Paul's car. She was in slight shock and asked multiple times "where are my parents?" They're in Bethel. "Where are we?" Two hours outside of Denali. "What just happened?" We were in a car accident. "Am I bleeding?" No. "Are you okay?" Yes. And then the questions would start over again.

You can't see it in the picture, but the wheel was shoved into the inside of the car. No wonder Valerie was the worse out of all of us.

I was concerned, but her pupils weren't dilated and I couldn't see any visible head trauma, so I wasn't too worried. She was complaining about her ribs and hip, and I felt them to make sure nothing was broken and as far as I could tell with all my years of medical training (read here, no years) nothing was broken. I just reassured her and caressed her hand, and talked to her calmly. I'm not going to lie, I was pretty level headed during the whole thing.

Mitch called the Troopers and Landon wandered from here to there. It took the Trooper probably 30-45 minutes to finally get there, and the ambulance another 30 or so minutes after that. One of the rescue trucks was able to pull our car off the main road. Between that time there were multiple people who pulled over to offer assistance. Alaskans are seriously some of the best people.

The paramedics looked at Valerie first and decided they should probably take her to the hospital. They asked if the rest of us were okay, and we made them look at Landon because his head hurt. Landon had gotten a mild concussion the month before (it was work related) so he really didn't want to have to go through all that again, but because of that they decided they should take him too. And so of course they had to strap him down, even though he had been up and walking about just fine. He was pissed.

I think he looks adorable with a neck brace.

The fun part for Valerie and Landon was getting to ride 2.5 hours to the nearest hospital bound to a flat board. Yep, two and a half hours. In Wasilla (that's where Sarah Palin's from). Valerie got pain meds and joined the world of the drugged up, but Landon didn't get any pain meds and said the ambulance ride was worse than the accident. I think he was just being a baby (love you Landon!).

Landon is one of the happiest people I know and was a positive ball of energy through out the whole thing. While riding down to Wasilla the paramedics told him they were going to have to cut his pants off to check his hips and thighs and he said "Nope, you're not cutting them. They're brand new pants. Take them off." Which they did. He told us later "I was wearing skinny jeans, I don't know why they couldn't have checked my hips with my pants on!"

Soon after the accident I called Kiana. Her and her family have become great friends and I consider them part of my Alaskan family. I asked if she would come meet us in Denali, and without hesitation she came down right away.

So while Landon and Valerie got to ride in the fun mobile, the Trooper offered to take Mitch and I up to Denali, about a 1.5 hour ride north. I learned a lot about Alaska State Troopers and Mitch learned he never wanted to be arrested because it was so uncomfortable riding in the back of a cop car.

Kiana and us got to Denali about the same time. Valerie's parents were flying to Anchorage from Bethel, but I felt like she needed me until they got there. And we couldn't abandon Landon. So Kiana was nice enough to drive us down to Wasilla, which from Denali was probably 3.5 hours. Yes, we were on that road a lot that day. And Kiana is the best.

We had to leave most of our stuff in the car at the scene, because we couldn't load it all up in the Trooper's car, so thankfully Kiana brought down her dad's big truck and we transported everything into her truck. The Trooper told Mitch we had two days to get it towed, or he would be fined for some sort of littering. Good news, we were able to get a tow truck that will do it for $350 because we're giving him the car for scrap parts. It could have cost upwards of $2,000 to tow it because of once again, we were in the middle of nowhere Alaska.

On a happier note, as Kiana, Mitch and I were driving back down that forsaken road, Mt. Denali was out. You may remember me telling you it's so tall it creates its own weather, so it's usually covered in clouds. I've only seen it about three times. Of course we stopped to take pictures.

Yeah, that faint blue hill is actually 20,320 feet tall. Once again, pictures don't do it justice. You feel so small, even though you're standing so far away from it.

Mitch and Kiana dancing the traditional celebratory dance when Denali is visible.

Kiana showing how the fireweed is so tall she could pee in it. And she wears the sunglasses to protect her identity. I don't argue with her about it.

So we finally get down to Wasilla. By this point Landon has been discharged and was hanging out with Valerie. He only suffered cervical strain (pain in the neck). When I went in to see Valerie she was back to Valerie intelligence and was with it. She had no head trauma and the only injury she sustained was a small fracture on the wing part on one of her vertebra. Yeah, don't ask me to name the actual bone, just know it was small. She also got discharged that night and went with her parents.

Once again, people are awesome, and we were able to stay at Kiana's aunt's house that night (she lived in the area). I would have cried had we had to get yet another hotel.

Then today we made our way back to Fairbanks.

Whew. It's really late, but I decided to get this written down before I forget it but mainly before I get too lazy to write it down. No promises on posting the rest of the adventure, but I promise I'll put pictures on facebook!

The Perfect Girl

*WARNING: READER DISCRETION ADVISED. THIS MAY HIT A LITTLE CLOSE TO HOME FOR SOME OF YOU. THE ADVICE GIVER Elissa Gator CANNOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY STATEMENTS THAT MAY CAUSE YOUR HEART TO TWIST IN AGONY. SHE ONLY TELLS THE TRUTH.

Dear Elissa Gator,
I am a man, and as a man I can do anything. But I admit I have a slight problem. I keep going for this certain type of girl and something deep down inside me tells me it's wrong but I don't know why.

Here's my type -- they are shallow and self-serving and usually have the IQ of a canary (I love birds). I can't decide what I like more: that they're so skinny they probably don't menstruate (which hello, means they don't PMS so I'm dodging lots of bullets there); or the fact that they remind me of freshman high school girls straight out of Hannah Montana episodes (you really do get the best of both worlds). 

They love to giggle at anything I say, scratch my back during church, and cuddle with me on my friends' beds (I love to show off how manly I am by showing gross amounts of PDA in public). I don't really know about their goals in life; we usually keep our conversations short and physical.

I'm not even sure she's capable of having an intelligent conversation, but who really wants a girl that knows how to string more than five words together? A smart girl might call me out on my crap and that would hurt my manhood.

Personality wise...well...she loves to kiss me personally...hahahaha.

Um, have I talked about her fine looking body? I love to take pictures of us and plaster them over facebook so my friends can be jealous of my smoking hot girl.

She's never cooked for me, but that's not a problem because I want to impress her so I always take her out to fancy restaurants. I don't think she knows how to change a diaper or rock a baby to sleep, but neither do I so I'm not going to judge. She'll tell me stories about how she used to play multiple guys at once, but she assures me she'd never do it to me. Obviously I believe her. She is really pretty.

Her jokes are kind of lame, and sometimes she gets really annoying, but she makes up for it by wearing super tight and low cut clothes. The irony is there isn't much to look at when her shirt does gap open, but I have a great imagination.

Some of my really close friends and family tell me she is not a good match for me, but they don't know her like I do. I think they're just jealous. 

I'm going to admit, she can sometimes be uber dumb and makes my head hurt. She can also be really mean, but I know she's just doing it in a flirting way because she wants me so bad.

So, why do I have these glimpses of me waking up 10 years from now with this gorgeous girl next to me (well not really gorgeous anymore because of stretch marks and cellulite, ew) and me not being in love? I don't understand. Help me.
-Confused Carl

Dear Carl,
Actually, she sounds perfect for you.
You're welcome.
-Elissa Gator 

Oh Gee, It's Denali!

I've been getting requests to write more often. Unfortunately, I haven't been getting any monetary reimbursement for my efforts, so I don't write as much. What I'm trying to say is - money talks.

Since the Ice Museum, I've done some ish.

Like get my CDL license.

I can now legally drive a 45 ft. bus. With people on it. By myself. Maybe one day I'll detail what goes into driving a motor coach, but it sometimes hurts my head so not today.

When we're not driving buses and sitting through good employee training, we usually hang out at our place and stay up way too late. I tell you what, this sun staying in the sky all night really messes with you. Like right now, it's 10 p.m., and it looks like it's 5 p.m. How are you supposed to want to go to bed with the sun being all sorts of rebellious?

Remember our awesome car? Mitch named it Poc. For Piece of Crap. I told him to treat it kinder. But we had to get our CV axle replaced. Thankfully, we have a really good friend named Daniel who is quite handy with cars and he changed it for us. We had a car party (different from a dog party at the top of the tree) at a member's house.

Mitch was pretending to be a man and help out. The most he got out of the experience was a grease unibrow.

One day for work we got to go to multiple down town restaurants and sample their food so we can tell our guests the best places to go. We got paid for doing that.

Then yesterday was the best day ever. You could even say it was the day of great giving. We got to go to Denali National Park. And before you start freaking out at the awesomeness, we did not climb Denali.

I'm going to put on my tour hat now, so hold onto your socks. The famous mountain is legally named Mt. McKinley after a U.S. president who never even visited Alaska (rude, right?), but all the cool people call it Denali (meaning "the great one" in Athabascan).

It is 20,320 feet tall and is the tallest mountain in the world, but not the highest (because its summit elevation doesn't reach as high as Mt. Everest, but measured from base to peak it's the tallest. Comprende?). In fact, it's so tall it creates its own weather and is usually surrounding by clouds. And it's uber hard to climb, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say I probably won't be climbing it this summer. You have to be flown in to the base camp. This ain't no day hike.

Taking tour hat off now and back to our trip. We took a coach down while we got a tour (because this will be one of the tours we will be doing). It takes about 2.5 hours in a coach. We saw moosen and Dall sheep. I didn't get any pictures of the moosen because you speed by before you can get a good picture, but I promise one of these days I'll get a good moosen picture.

These are Dall Sheep. They were high on the cliff and far away and we were moving, so you should be pretty impressed by the shot I did get.

 These are what Dall Sheep look like up close: (courtesy the world wide web)

I know. I want to pet one as well.

We then went to the hotels where we will be picking up/dropping off guests. They're pretty shnazzy. This hotel is super high up and to get to it you have to drive 958 dirt road switch backs (only exaggerating a little bit). It has an awesome view, but thankfully we don't usually have to go there.

The funny thing is none of the hotels in the area have an actual view of Denali because the surrounding mountains are so tall. And I don't know the reason why they weren't built closer. I'll get back to you on that one.

For lunch we got to go to a dinner theater where we were served salmon, prime rib tips, red skinned mashed potatoes, succotash (corn, edamame, and red bell pepper), biscuits, salad and apple crisp for dessert.

Mitch and Hillary getting their grub on.

We were then entertained by a cute little musical about the climbing of Denali. Our table was the loudest and proudest, and this is us drinking it up to the 2012 motto of the season: "Get Some!" Its meaning is up to your own interpretation.

In the late afternoon we went to the train station to wait for our train ride back to Fairbanks.

This is a lot of the driver guides, minus me because I was taking the picture. See if you can spot Mitch.

Princess and Holland America have train cars that travel from Anchorage to Fairbanks hooked onto the Alaska train, hence why we got to experience train travel. I highly recommend it.

I should have gotten a better picture of what the inside of the train car looks like, but imagine a narrow moving restaurant with booths and awesome views and that's about it.

 

 I can't help myself posting a million pictures of the train. It's so pretty.

This is me going down the stairs to the outside platform. That's right, you can stand on the platform outside for the entire train ride. Bet you can't do that in a car.

You probably can't see me, but that's Max and me on the other side of the Princess car. Don't worry, no grizzly bears jumped on us.

It was such great scenery, so I invite you to bask and be bored in scenery pictures, which really don't do it justice.

That's the road I'll be driving on. This is also the road that connects Anchorage to Fairbanks. There are only about three highways in Alaska, and this is one of them. In other words, it's pretty hard to get off on the wrong freeway and suddenly end up in Compton (true story from my life).

The train from Denali to Fairbanks takes 4 hours, but you don't mind at all (well I can't speak for you but I'm speaking for me). We got dinner on the train, which was Butternut Squash Soup (delicious with a capital D), grilled chicken, baguette, salad and key lime cake or carrot cake. People, I got paid for this whole day. How often does part of your job description include getting paid to eat, enjoying a leisure ride on a scenic train and being in a famous national park? I didn't think so. 

These are my favorite pictures. I don't think I need to explain why.

This next week we start getting guests. I know, I'm freaking out a little. When I post a picture of me vomiting all over my first bus of guests you'll know things didn't go so well, but I'm hoping that Kodak moment won't happen.

Also, I've really been dying to show this great and totally embarrassing video of myself dancing with an old drunk cowboy at a bar, but we've been having technical difficulties getting it onto my computer. I promise it will come soon.

Icy Hot

I know you're all dying to know if I've hit anyone while driving those 40 foot monsters. I've only hit air pockets and frost heaves, thank you very much. In all honesty I'm doing pretty good. But when we're not driving buses, we're looking for other ways to get in trouble.

Like going to an ice museum.

The ice museum was pretty small, but pretty sweet. It's kept at 20 degrees all year, so I guess you could technically say that for most of the year they have to heat it (get it, because it's usually ever colder outside?) Actually, I have no idea. I just know everything inside is made of ice.

They give you jackets to wear inside the museum, isn't that nice of them? 
 

I'm pretty proud of myself because I didn't bring in a tripod but was still able to get some cool (and I do mean cool) pictures. The colors come from little colored Christmas lights, and the ice is usually melted right around where the light is.

The detail was pretty impressive. They had a bar inside where you could pay more money to drink a martini out of an ice glass or some touristy junk. Instead, we brought blow dryers and drank the sculptures.

The ice museum is located at this place called Chena Hot Springs. It is a natural mineral hot spring in the middle of the mountains, so it's pretty legit to take a dip when it's -40 outside. The day we went it was like +40, so still cool enough to have some dramatic effect, but not extreme enough to have your body suddenly break in half due to temperature extremes. Although they are open year round and people do like to torture themselves.

We had packed a picnic dinner, and even though it was nice outside, the mosquitoes weren't so nice so we ate inside. If you've ever heard legends of Alaskan mosquitoes, they're all true. They're known as Alaska's state bird because they're so ginormous.

I'm sure you're thinking "well how do they survive the winter?" which is exactly what I thought, but rest assured the mosquito eggs have this special incubator gel in them so they are able to lie dormant over the coldest part of winter (just the eggs, not the actually sucking birds).

Once break up happens, things start to melt, but there is no where for all the melted ice to go, and we all know (or will know now that I'm telling you) what happens when there is a bunch of stagnant water: mosquitoes.Thankfully, they usually go away by the end of July.


Speaking of suckers:

In other random blog worthy news, I got a bad cold this past week and so I've been out of touch with reality.  Don't worry, I haven't had too many delusions of grandeur.


We've got a nice little posse; once season starts I think it might break up because everyone's schedules will be so different. For the time being we do everything together, and it usually happens at our place. To be honest I haven't had this much fun in life since Attila was a Hun.

Here's a picture I took of the sun setting, which I think happened around 10:30. At night. Crazy, right? I'm pretty stoked for the midnight sun. They don't have fireworks on the 4th of July because it never gets dark enough!

Today we went to a co-worker's house for a bar-b-que. Her husband is an ice trucker and is on the reality TV show Ice Road Truckers. She was telling us all sorts of crazy stories about what goes down in the life of an ice trucker. They actually spray water on one part of the highway so that it will freeze more evenly and he actually drives out on the frozen ocean in the Arctic to bring supplies to the rigs.

One time there was a camp of 200 men who hadn't received food for several days due to harsh weather, so for four days her husband hand shoveled snow to get his truck across to the camp. Keep in mind you have to keep your truck running the whole time or everything will freeze and you're in a whole lot of trouble. I've never seen the show but we're going to have a marathon and watch all the episodes. She said that besides having to re-enact dramatic scenes, the danger they portray on the show is spot on.

I tell you what, this is just the beginning of all the interesting people I'm going to meet this summer.

I'm in Alaska.