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
Monday, September 24, 2012
Saturday, September 22, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
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.
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.
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