People have asked what kind of job I'm looking for. Here is a list of what my dream job would look like. Unfortunately, I don't know where this job is ... yet. But I know it's out there. If you're feeling like you know something that even semi fits this list, please send it my way. I will make you the ultimate cookies or something.
-Be able to make people laugh
-Interact with lots of friends/make new friends
- Have the freedom to set own hours, not have to "save up" for vacation days
-Have Sundays off
-Be creatively challenged/yet enjoy the challenges
-Excited to go to work-Not stuck at desk for 8 hours
-Opportunity to travel if I desire, but don't have to if I don't want to
-Be paid a substantial amount, enough so I can pay off debts and not worry about money, and be able to buy things such as house and car and have money left over to travel without feeling like I'm blowing a year's savings.
-Work with people who like me
-Feel fulfilled and like I'm doing something worthwhile
-Use my skills as a leader and teacher
-If there is a home base/office, I want it to have plenty of natural light, but not so much that it's annoying (I know, this is kind of weird, but I'm not fond of being walled in with the constant-never changing artificial light blasting down)
-Not have to sit for 8 hours
-Be able to grow/get promoted/take on more responsibilities
-Help others
-Not feel guilty for taking days off
-My higher-ups like and respect me
-I like my higher-ups
-Others I work with will have good communication skills
-I have a sense of pride in my work, feel invested in it
-Job will have perks/benefits that other jobs won't
-Wouldn't be an impediment to raising a family
-Stimulating
-Able to do fun things on a whim and leave work
-Do fun things at work
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Saturday, June 22, 2013
28
I daresay it's about time for another post, don't you agree? And what a more appropriate time than on my birthday.
I am now 28 years old. Why don't we have a looksie at the past year, shall we? (*This will only be a word journey as picture journeys take too long to upload and now that I'm 28 my days on this earth are numbered and I mustn't be bothered with such frivolous things.)
In the past year (and in no particular order) I have ...
○Driven a 45 ft. passenger motor coach
○Had my heart broken
○Been in a car accident
○Been sued
○Been to California, Utah and Alaska (Washington if we count layovers)
○Survived -55 temperatures
○Seen Mt. Denali/McKinley
○Gone to the Anchorage temple twice
○Seen wild: dolphins, killer whales, humpback whales, seals, otters, eagles, puffins, fox, caribou, moose, humans (no bears yet, don't worry, I'm working on it).
○Taken star trail pictures
○Called to be Relief Society president
○Seen the sun at midnight
○Started watercoloring again
○Started writing a story
○Been to the North Pole and sat on Santa's lap
○Slid down a slide made entirely of ice as well as go through a maze made of ice
○Joined the hipster ranks and got an iPhone/first smart phone
○Survived the Mayan apocalypse
○Worked as a copy editor/page designer at the second largest newspaper in the largest state
○Taken at least one photo everyday since Jan. 1
○Sent off quite a few sister missionaries
○Been the victim of a fender bender
○Eaten moose tacos, moose spaghetti, and bison burgers
○Read too many books to even count
○Watched too many hours of Netflix/Hulu that I should never count
○For making new and dear friends (not deer friends, I could never associate with someone with a name like "Bambie")
○Was a bridesmaid at my cousin's wedding
○Got to create some floral arrangements
○Seen the northern lights
○Went to my first Zumba class
○Found my gratitude journal and returned to writing in it daily (...mostly)
○Bought a car
○Found the unfortunate effects of taking too much caffeine
○Lived in three different places
○Navigated through ice fog (easier said than done)
○Grown my leg hairs to stages where it could be braided
○Took a long walk in the pouring rain
Not too shabby of a year. At times a very cold one, but a decent one.
I'm sure there are other things that I'm missing, and I debated whether I should list every time I fell asleep somewhere I shouldn't have, but decided I can't remember because I was sleeping. But out of all of these things, I think the number one highlight of my year is finding happiness from within. Last summer I was happy, but it was because I was surrounded with fun people and fun times. This winter taught me how to find happiness even when I was by myself; which because I worked nights, I was by myself a lot.
My last day of working at the News-Miner is June 27. I'm really excited. I don't know what life is going to bring me next, but I know it's going to be great. Yes, I'm looking for a new job. No, I don't have a specific job or place in mind. If you think of something for me, please send a bird my way. I'm trying to be open to all possibilities.
Until I turn 29 or my next post (hopefully the latter), I say adieu.
I am now 28 years old. Why don't we have a looksie at the past year, shall we? (*This will only be a word journey as picture journeys take too long to upload and now that I'm 28 my days on this earth are numbered and I mustn't be bothered with such frivolous things.)
In the past year (and in no particular order) I have ...
○Driven a 45 ft. passenger motor coach
○Had my heart broken
○Been in a car accident
○Been sued
○Been to California, Utah and Alaska (Washington if we count layovers)
○Survived -55 temperatures
○Seen Mt. Denali/McKinley
○Gone to the Anchorage temple twice
○Seen wild: dolphins, killer whales, humpback whales, seals, otters, eagles, puffins, fox, caribou, moose, humans (no bears yet, don't worry, I'm working on it).
○Taken star trail pictures
○Called to be Relief Society president
○Seen the sun at midnight
○Started watercoloring again
○Started writing a story
○Been to the North Pole and sat on Santa's lap
○Slid down a slide made entirely of ice as well as go through a maze made of ice
○Joined the hipster ranks and got an iPhone/first smart phone
○Survived the Mayan apocalypse
○Worked as a copy editor/page designer at the second largest newspaper in the largest state
○Taken at least one photo everyday since Jan. 1
○Sent off quite a few sister missionaries
○Been the victim of a fender bender
○Eaten moose tacos, moose spaghetti, and bison burgers
○Read too many books to even count
○Watched too many hours of Netflix/Hulu that I should never count
○For making new and dear friends (not deer friends, I could never associate with someone with a name like "Bambie")
○Was a bridesmaid at my cousin's wedding
○Got to create some floral arrangements
○Seen the northern lights
○Went to my first Zumba class
○Found my gratitude journal and returned to writing in it daily (...mostly)
○Bought a car
○Found the unfortunate effects of taking too much caffeine
○Lived in three different places
○Navigated through ice fog (easier said than done)
○Grown my leg hairs to stages where it could be braided
○Took a long walk in the pouring rain
Not too shabby of a year. At times a very cold one, but a decent one.
I'm sure there are other things that I'm missing, and I debated whether I should list every time I fell asleep somewhere I shouldn't have, but decided I can't remember because I was sleeping. But out of all of these things, I think the number one highlight of my year is finding happiness from within. Last summer I was happy, but it was because I was surrounded with fun people and fun times. This winter taught me how to find happiness even when I was by myself; which because I worked nights, I was by myself a lot.
My last day of working at the News-Miner is June 27. I'm really excited. I don't know what life is going to bring me next, but I know it's going to be great. Yes, I'm looking for a new job. No, I don't have a specific job or place in mind. If you think of something for me, please send a bird my way. I'm trying to be open to all possibilities.
Until I turn 29 or my next post (hopefully the latter), I say adieu.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Confessions of a body hater
I'm about to do something very uncharacteristic and 1) go off on an epic rant and 2) divulge things about myself that up to this point I've tried to keep secret to most of the world. But I'm tired of hiding and I hope that maybe my experiences and struggles will help someone else, as other people who have shared their struggles have helped me. Just in case you were getting really concerned, I'm not about to confess to being a serial killer or that I'm about to run for office. You can now unclench your jaw and exhale.
I am slightly nervous because what goes on the internet can never be undone, and there will probably be consequences later. And who even knows how this will affect my dating life (then again, I'm pretty sure it couldn't be worse than what it is now -- as in non-existent). I guess that's what courage (or stupidity) amounts to. Sigh. Here I go ...
For most of my life I've been severely depressed. As in go to therapists and take medication depressed. As in think about suicide all the time depressed. Some of you know this; others, this may come as a surprise. Hello, my name is Elissa and I'm a closest depressive. And I'm finally okay with being open about it.
Well Elissa, you may be asking, why are you depressed? You're an amazing person and funny and have accomplished so much. I don't understand.
Yep, kids, these kind of things don't make a lot of sense. Medical professionals will say there's a chemical imbalance. Others will say it's genetic. Some zealots might say I'm not being righteous enough (let's just nip this in the bud right now -- we all know I'm the most humble person you know). There really isn't one answer.
I won't go into my long annoying history of it all, but suffice to say, there has been one constant. That constant being that I hated myself. I hated that I wasn't enough. I wasn't pretty, smart, kind, spiritual, girlie, skinny, normal, sane, mathematical-minded, popular, forgiving, fill-in-the-blank ... enough. Which led me to believe I was a failure and undeserving of love or happiness.
But if you weren't feeling good enough, I was right there to disprove that. Here's the thing; I honestly believed other people were good, but I honestly believed I wasn't. Logical? By absolutely no means.
There's this voice inside my head (no, I'm not schizo, we all have this voice, mine is just extra voluminous and much harder to shut up) that would constantly tell me I'm not good enough. Think of villains from books/movies who hurt with their words; spouses that are emotionally abusive and leave unseen bruises and marks on the mind -- that's what the voice in my head does to me. I just came to the realization the other day that I have been a victim of abuse. The sad thing was, I was my own abuser.
This voice tries to put me down in any instance.
Got an B on that art project? Well you obviously didn't put enough of your heart and soul into it or you would have gotten an A. You didn't do your best at all.
Sometimes, it's outright ridiculous and I daresay creative the things this voice tells me. You know, there are children in Africa that have never had clean drinking water. What makes you think you deserve to drink clean water, much less water?
You're right, I'd tell it. I don't deserve to drink or eat today.
For hours, I'd lie in bed, staring vacantly at nothing while I held onto the thought that I was nothing. Thankfully, basic human instinct would usually take over and I'd end up eating and drinking.
Man alive, I still can't believe I'm posting all this. But I digress.
These are just a few examples. If you're ever feeling like there is too much happiness in your life, I'll let you read my journal to help bring you down a couple notches. Or twenty. Actually, false. I probably won't let you read my journal. I don't hate anyone that much.
One of the absolute favorite ways this voice puts me down, is to point out my weight. So much so that I tied my worth of a person to how much I weighed (which, interestingly enough, even when I did lose weight, I wasn't happier). I hated my body. Hated it.
It got to a point where all I'd picture is taking a sharp knife and cutting off my fat (I never did). Because maybe if I didn't have that fat people would love me (people already did love me). Or maybe boys would like me. Or I'd be a more acceptable person.
And this is the real reason of this whole post (I know, longest intro ever). Here I am, almost 28, and just now starting to realize my worth is not tied to my physical appearance. It has been a long and harsh road getting to this point. I am far from absolute love for myself, but I've made a lot of progress, and I want to share that with others. There has been too much shame in my life and I don't want it anymore.
A main reason I hated myself is because I was taught to hate myself.
Which brings me to the part where I rant. We've got to stop putting so much value on one's appearance. Is there an obesity epidemic? Sure is. Know what's a bigger epidemic that isn't talked about nearly as much? A vanity epidemic.
Everyone talks about how the magazines and Hollywood perpetuate unrealistic images of what we should be; and yet those magazines are still bought. We crave "beautiful" people. No, we're obsessed with it. Each year, they pick the world's "sexiest person," because one's ability to perform intercourse is obviously a main requirement to be successful.
Whatever happened to celebrating people who are ethical, or quietly charitable? What about people who have integrity or encourages others to be better? These virtues come in all different faces and body types.
I cringe every time a boy asks (and it's the very first question) about a new girl "is she hot?" Which some of you may say, well you're just jealous you're not hot. Okay, fine. I'm jealous. I admit it. But seriously, in the long run, if the only thing your wife has going for her is that she's hot, I doubt she's going to be there to wipe the drool from your wrinkly, saggy face when you're 84. But hey, maybe you'll be lucky and get a hot nurse to do it, as you lie alone and miserable in the assisted living home.
I remember a boy (okay, there have been plenty like this) who would go on and on about how above all he wanted a girl who was kind. A hot girl (who was not kind) walks into his life, and he forgets all about his priorities because (and I quote) "but she's so pretty!" I've come to terms that those boys deserve what they get, and I sure as hell don't want a man who can't keep his priorities straight.
Now I'm not saying hot people can't be nice. I'm also not saying you can't look for a hot companion, because I do believe that there needs to be a level of physical attraction for love to work. I'm also not saying I'm not guilty of oggly-eyeing fine male specimens. But we've got to get our priorities inline with what makes a person good and decent.
I want to share some of the reasons I believe I'm fat. One, I have this belief that boys only love thin girls, and because I believe I'm undeserving of having someone love me, if I stay fat then no one will love me. It's like my armor and protection from being vulnerable. And don't worry, I know this is a false belief and I'm working on changing it.
Two, as oxymoronic as it sounds, being fat is a way to be in control when you don't feel in control, as well as a sense of rebelling. I don't want to bring up specific people, but I'll just say that in a way I rebelled against people in my life who didn't want me to be fat (please don't think this was some conscious plan that I came up with one night).
Three, for me, I think being fat is a physical reminder of how much I hate myself (remember, I'm in the process of loving myself now).
Do you see that fat has many more layers (yep, I said layers) than just what someone chooses to eat?
I have been a victim of fat shaming, but I have also been a shamer. I'll admit, I've gotten grossed out seeing obese people (although I don't voice these horrendous thoughts). It's because we've been engrained to automatically judge a person by what they look like. It's what we've been taught, and so a lot of it isn't our fault. For this reason, I forgive others. Especially loved ones who didn't know how much it hurt when they would say certain things. I already have physical baggage, I don't also need to keep carrying around emotional baggage. And if I've shamed you in some way, I hope you're able to forgive me. But be mindful of the things you say about others, even when you're not in their presence.
One last point (maybe, we'll see). I believe God created our bodies. That as spirits we were sent to earth to have a mortal experience. I also believe that Satan was cast out of heaven and denied a body. So does it come as too much of a jump to believe that Satan is the major force driving this skewed view of bodies? That he is rooting for us to hate ourselves and our bodies, or to put others down for their bodies? When we do this, we're really helping him to win.
I also believe that all can be healed through the atonement of Jesus Christ. That he and Heavenly Father love us for who we are and who we can become. Until I can find love for myself, I'm leaning on God's love for me.
So after sharing some of my deepest secrets, I ask a couple things of you. Try to be less judgmental of others. We're all going through our own battles and we all need each other. Try to see others as God sees them. We've all heard this before, but we need reminded of it every now and then.
There's still a ton more I could say. I have biases and beliefs that aren't perfect, but try to take the essence of what I'm saying, and try to change some of your own beliefs. Don't let the vanity epidemic have any more power over you.
Hello, my name is Elissa, and starting today, I'm loving myself for who I am.
I am slightly nervous because what goes on the internet can never be undone, and there will probably be consequences later. And who even knows how this will affect my dating life (then again, I'm pretty sure it couldn't be worse than what it is now -- as in non-existent). I guess that's what courage (or stupidity) amounts to. Sigh. Here I go ...
For most of my life I've been severely depressed. As in go to therapists and take medication depressed. As in think about suicide all the time depressed. Some of you know this; others, this may come as a surprise. Hello, my name is Elissa and I'm a closest depressive. And I'm finally okay with being open about it.
Well Elissa, you may be asking, why are you depressed? You're an amazing person and funny and have accomplished so much. I don't understand.
Yep, kids, these kind of things don't make a lot of sense. Medical professionals will say there's a chemical imbalance. Others will say it's genetic. Some zealots might say I'm not being righteous enough (let's just nip this in the bud right now -- we all know I'm the most humble person you know). There really isn't one answer.
I won't go into my long annoying history of it all, but suffice to say, there has been one constant. That constant being that I hated myself. I hated that I wasn't enough. I wasn't pretty, smart, kind, spiritual, girlie, skinny, normal, sane, mathematical-minded, popular, forgiving, fill-in-the-blank ... enough. Which led me to believe I was a failure and undeserving of love or happiness.
But if you weren't feeling good enough, I was right there to disprove that. Here's the thing; I honestly believed other people were good, but I honestly believed I wasn't. Logical? By absolutely no means.
There's this voice inside my head (no, I'm not schizo, we all have this voice, mine is just extra voluminous and much harder to shut up) that would constantly tell me I'm not good enough. Think of villains from books/movies who hurt with their words; spouses that are emotionally abusive and leave unseen bruises and marks on the mind -- that's what the voice in my head does to me. I just came to the realization the other day that I have been a victim of abuse. The sad thing was, I was my own abuser.
This voice tries to put me down in any instance.
Got an B on that art project? Well you obviously didn't put enough of your heart and soul into it or you would have gotten an A. You didn't do your best at all.
Sometimes, it's outright ridiculous and I daresay creative the things this voice tells me. You know, there are children in Africa that have never had clean drinking water. What makes you think you deserve to drink clean water, much less water?
You're right, I'd tell it. I don't deserve to drink or eat today.
For hours, I'd lie in bed, staring vacantly at nothing while I held onto the thought that I was nothing. Thankfully, basic human instinct would usually take over and I'd end up eating and drinking.
Man alive, I still can't believe I'm posting all this. But I digress.
These are just a few examples. If you're ever feeling like there is too much happiness in your life, I'll let you read my journal to help bring you down a couple notches. Or twenty. Actually, false. I probably won't let you read my journal. I don't hate anyone that much.
One of the absolute favorite ways this voice puts me down, is to point out my weight. So much so that I tied my worth of a person to how much I weighed (which, interestingly enough, even when I did lose weight, I wasn't happier). I hated my body. Hated it.
It got to a point where all I'd picture is taking a sharp knife and cutting off my fat (I never did). Because maybe if I didn't have that fat people would love me (people already did love me). Or maybe boys would like me. Or I'd be a more acceptable person.
And this is the real reason of this whole post (I know, longest intro ever). Here I am, almost 28, and just now starting to realize my worth is not tied to my physical appearance. It has been a long and harsh road getting to this point. I am far from absolute love for myself, but I've made a lot of progress, and I want to share that with others. There has been too much shame in my life and I don't want it anymore.
A main reason I hated myself is because I was taught to hate myself.
Which brings me to the part where I rant. We've got to stop putting so much value on one's appearance. Is there an obesity epidemic? Sure is. Know what's a bigger epidemic that isn't talked about nearly as much? A vanity epidemic.
Everyone talks about how the magazines and Hollywood perpetuate unrealistic images of what we should be; and yet those magazines are still bought. We crave "beautiful" people. No, we're obsessed with it. Each year, they pick the world's "sexiest person," because one's ability to perform intercourse is obviously a main requirement to be successful.
Whatever happened to celebrating people who are ethical, or quietly charitable? What about people who have integrity or encourages others to be better? These virtues come in all different faces and body types.
I cringe every time a boy asks (and it's the very first question) about a new girl "is she hot?" Which some of you may say, well you're just jealous you're not hot. Okay, fine. I'm jealous. I admit it. But seriously, in the long run, if the only thing your wife has going for her is that she's hot, I doubt she's going to be there to wipe the drool from your wrinkly, saggy face when you're 84. But hey, maybe you'll be lucky and get a hot nurse to do it, as you lie alone and miserable in the assisted living home.
I remember a boy (okay, there have been plenty like this) who would go on and on about how above all he wanted a girl who was kind. A hot girl (who was not kind) walks into his life, and he forgets all about his priorities because (and I quote) "but she's so pretty!" I've come to terms that those boys deserve what they get, and I sure as hell don't want a man who can't keep his priorities straight.
Now I'm not saying hot people can't be nice. I'm also not saying you can't look for a hot companion, because I do believe that there needs to be a level of physical attraction for love to work. I'm also not saying I'm not guilty of oggly-eyeing fine male specimens. But we've got to get our priorities inline with what makes a person good and decent.
I want to share some of the reasons I believe I'm fat. One, I have this belief that boys only love thin girls, and because I believe I'm undeserving of having someone love me, if I stay fat then no one will love me. It's like my armor and protection from being vulnerable. And don't worry, I know this is a false belief and I'm working on changing it.
Two, as oxymoronic as it sounds, being fat is a way to be in control when you don't feel in control, as well as a sense of rebelling. I don't want to bring up specific people, but I'll just say that in a way I rebelled against people in my life who didn't want me to be fat (please don't think this was some conscious plan that I came up with one night).
Three, for me, I think being fat is a physical reminder of how much I hate myself (remember, I'm in the process of loving myself now).
Do you see that fat has many more layers (yep, I said layers) than just what someone chooses to eat?
I have been a victim of fat shaming, but I have also been a shamer. I'll admit, I've gotten grossed out seeing obese people (although I don't voice these horrendous thoughts). It's because we've been engrained to automatically judge a person by what they look like. It's what we've been taught, and so a lot of it isn't our fault. For this reason, I forgive others. Especially loved ones who didn't know how much it hurt when they would say certain things. I already have physical baggage, I don't also need to keep carrying around emotional baggage. And if I've shamed you in some way, I hope you're able to forgive me. But be mindful of the things you say about others, even when you're not in their presence.
One last point (maybe, we'll see). I believe God created our bodies. That as spirits we were sent to earth to have a mortal experience. I also believe that Satan was cast out of heaven and denied a body. So does it come as too much of a jump to believe that Satan is the major force driving this skewed view of bodies? That he is rooting for us to hate ourselves and our bodies, or to put others down for their bodies? When we do this, we're really helping him to win.
I also believe that all can be healed through the atonement of Jesus Christ. That he and Heavenly Father love us for who we are and who we can become. Until I can find love for myself, I'm leaning on God's love for me.
So after sharing some of my deepest secrets, I ask a couple things of you. Try to be less judgmental of others. We're all going through our own battles and we all need each other. Try to see others as God sees them. We've all heard this before, but we need reminded of it every now and then.
There's still a ton more I could say. I have biases and beliefs that aren't perfect, but try to take the essence of what I'm saying, and try to change some of your own beliefs. Don't let the vanity epidemic have any more power over you.
Hello, my name is Elissa, and starting today, I'm loving myself for who I am.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Trailing the stars
Y'all are going to be super impressed. I have yet to miss a day in my photo a day challenge to myself. But I am on to another pet project. Star trails.
Star trails are pictures of the stars that makes it seem like the stars are moving across the sky, when in fact we're the peeps that are moving (well, the earth is, anyway). I've always wanted to take these type of pictures, and now I have the chance. I live up in the hills where there's not a lot of light pollution, it's currently dark (although we're gaining daylight like mad, so I won't be able to take too many more of these), and I'm up all night anyway. Great combo.
They're fairly simple, you do have to have patience, as well as some special equipment. First night I did it, I didn't even look online for directions. Probably because the internet was down (yep, I remember now). I knew it had to have a long exposure, so I figured I'd just set up my camera and come back in a couple of hours.Which is technically true, but not how I thought. I also didn't have a tripod (mine met an untimely death in a certain car accident we had last summer), but I'm real good at stacking junk together to place a camera on top of.
It was about 2 degrees and when I came to get my camera 2.5 hours later and there was frost forming on the lens (my camera may die at a younger age). The camera had also turned off, because of the battery dying. When I plugged the card into the computer, this is what I got:
Cool, right?
The next night the internet was working and I found a decent tutorial: http://www.jamesvernacotola.com/Resources/How-To-Photograph-Star-Trails/12233655_V7cX4D . There are a ton more, but I didn't want to waste time reading them.
I learned that you have to take many exposures and then combine them into one as well as set your f/stop to as high as it will go, like f2.8. Right.
To take multiple exposures and then combine them, you CANNOT move the camera. That means not even touching it. Luckily, I have a remote. I won't get into the technical details of it all, but I really need a lock cable release, but the remote was the second best thing.
Still not having a tripod, I used a hymn book (my mom said "It's nice you were able to use a hymn book for something other than hymns." Thanks, mom) and a cardboard box and set it all up on the snow/ice covered driveway. I'm in Alaska. We're hardcore.
Here's a short exposure (30 sec) so I would be able to tell what my composition was:
Sweet!
Tomorrow night I'm planning on going out into the semi wilderness so I can get cooler foreground stuff and perhaps a better view of the whole night sky so I can be a cool photographer with the north star in the picture. Let's pray I don't get eaten by bears.
It's really incredible how fast the world is moving, even after 10 minutes the streaks of stars have moved a considerable distance. Stars may be my new favorite thing. Besides hot country singers.
Star trails are pictures of the stars that makes it seem like the stars are moving across the sky, when in fact we're the peeps that are moving (well, the earth is, anyway). I've always wanted to take these type of pictures, and now I have the chance. I live up in the hills where there's not a lot of light pollution, it's currently dark (although we're gaining daylight like mad, so I won't be able to take too many more of these), and I'm up all night anyway. Great combo.
They're fairly simple, you do have to have patience, as well as some special equipment. First night I did it, I didn't even look online for directions. Probably because the internet was down (yep, I remember now). I knew it had to have a long exposure, so I figured I'd just set up my camera and come back in a couple of hours.Which is technically true, but not how I thought. I also didn't have a tripod (mine met an untimely death in a certain car accident we had last summer), but I'm real good at stacking junk together to place a camera on top of.
It was about 2 degrees and when I came to get my camera 2.5 hours later and there was frost forming on the lens (my camera may die at a younger age). The camera had also turned off, because of the battery dying. When I plugged the card into the computer, this is what I got:
I was stoked. There were trails of light! Okay, it was obviously way over exposed and the composition wasn't that great, but I felt fairly satisfied with my limitations (read: freezing, no tripod, not a lot of knowledge). For those photo nerds, the exposure was a little more than 30 minutes at f11.
Here it is again, but I messed with the levels:
Cool, right?
The next night the internet was working and I found a decent tutorial: http://www.jamesvernacotola.com/Resources/How-To-Photograph-Star-Trails/12233655_V7cX4D . There are a ton more, but I didn't want to waste time reading them.
I learned that you have to take many exposures and then combine them into one as well as set your f/stop to as high as it will go, like f2.8. Right.
To take multiple exposures and then combine them, you CANNOT move the camera. That means not even touching it. Luckily, I have a remote. I won't get into the technical details of it all, but I really need a lock cable release, but the remote was the second best thing.
Still not having a tripod, I used a hymn book (my mom said "It's nice you were able to use a hymn book for something other than hymns." Thanks, mom) and a cardboard box and set it all up on the snow/ice covered driveway. I'm in Alaska. We're hardcore.
Here's a short exposure (30 sec) so I would be able to tell what my composition was:
Good to go. I decided I'm come back every 10 minutes or so to stop the exposure and take another one. Unfortunately, after doing this a couple of times, the remote wasn't working (human error) so I gently touched the button. Remember when I said you can't even touch the camera? This is five images combined, but because I moved the camera, you can tell things don't line up.
It had potential. The faint green you see is part of the northern lights. They have not been coming out when I've been looking, so I got over them, and now I don't want them out (well, I still do, just not a lot) because my picture would just be a sea of green. It was said that this Friday and Saturday they're supposed to be out really strong, so I'll switch back over to northern light photography if that's the case.What can I say, I'm flexible.
Quick astronomy. You may notice the lights are going in a circular pattern. That's because of the north star, you know, the one that doesn't move so sailors can navigate by and such. If you look up star trails online, a lot of them have the north star as a kind of focal point so you see a complete circle of stars. I obviously did not position my camera this way (maybe because at the time I couldn't find it and was using a hymn book anyway, okay?).
Tonight I asked Doug if he had a tripod (I know, I need to buy another one). He did. Turns out tripods are a lot easier to work with than random junk or hymn books. I set this shot up on the deck right outside the family room so I it wouldn't be as much as a hassle to take another picture every 10 minutes. And...
Tomorrow night I'm planning on going out into the semi wilderness so I can get cooler foreground stuff and perhaps a better view of the whole night sky so I can be a cool photographer with the north star in the picture. Let's pray I don't get eaten by bears.
It's really incredible how fast the world is moving, even after 10 minutes the streaks of stars have moved a considerable distance. Stars may be my new favorite thing. Besides hot country singers.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Anthropology of YSA dances
Last post I told you I got an iphone. That pretty much sums up why I've been neglecting my blog. However, I did take on a pet project of posting to instagram everyday for the month of January. My end goal will be to take a picture every day for a whole year, but I'm doing it month by month so I don't feel like a failure when it doesn't happen. So far, so good. Follow me at, you guessed it, #elissagator. That's also my Twitter account, which I've also been using a bit more. I'm full of surprises.
This past weekend I got to go down to Anchorage for an LDS temple trip. It was great to get out of Fairbanks. I even saw caribou on the way down. One of the Anchorage YSA wards invited us to a dance. Now, I'm not that into dances.Granted, I can dance a storm around you, I just don't usually feel like showing off.
Sitting there, wondering when the night would come to an end, inspiration struck. When that happens, you can't disobey the muses. I got paper, pen and a hymn book, sat in a chair and started writing. Mind you, I was still in the gym, with the dance going on in front of me. I became that girl. The weird one. And I gloried in it.
Here is what I banged out on paper (with a few edits. The copy editing job is really starting to seep into my brain system. Shudder). For your information, YSA means "young single adult;" those in the LDS church that are 18-30. Now you know.
Observations of a YSA Dance
By Elissa Stewart
No boos. Modest dress. A basketball gym with haphazard strung Christmas lights.
A mash up of Thriller and Lady Gaga blast through the speakers. It's an appropriate beat for a scary event -- a Mormon YSA dance.
I stand with the group, yet a part as I write my observations. Tonight I am merely an anthropologist, studying the strange mating rituals of a group ostracized for their different ways. They are different, and yet beautiful -- in the same way a penguin will give a potential mate a pebble. Not a lot of logic, just pure weird.
Their favorite type of dance is the line dance. Not necessarily country, but a mix of the electric slide, pop and wobble and a rural rhythm called "Cotton Eyed Joe." I don't know if Joe would be pleased or astounded at how his name was being used. Then again, having cotton eyes, he would be prevented from most of the indecency.
The slide disintegrates into a slow song. As the tempo slows down, there is an energy change on the dance floor. A massive rush to the drinking fountain ensues by those too sweaty or too self-conscious to wait through those painful seconds wondering if someone will ask them to dance. Others claim a metal chair that hug the prickly-scratchy wall (this wall paper choice is a whole study in and of itself).
And then we have "those" couples. I put that word in quotation marks to symbolize the close and curving ability these people fit into each other. Appropriately, of course. They gaze into each others' eyes, dismissing the strong aroma of body odors and stale farts. They are the only two that exist in the room, under a hoop that will hopefully soon serve as a backdrop for their wedding receiving line.
The odd assortment of the collection adds to the mystery of the dancing ritual. There are big girls, small girls, girls swallowed up by their own vanity. And then the nice girls who come up to strange girls sitting in the corner writing (writing, at a dance -- who does that?) and introduce themselves and start small talk.
Now I don't want to group the males into one group, but for the most part they are a nervous bunch. Sure, there are the outliers -- those who wear sunglasses inside and have the moves of Usher with the morals of Joseph of Egypt. And the few males that you can't help but pity as awkwardness radiates from their clothes.
Putting the males and females together you get raging hormones of a religion that believes sex before marriage is a sin. The ability to get jiggy with it in a church approved setting is a counted blessing.
Not to worry -- there are chaperones, older couples so deliriously happy with their own marriages they can't help but facilitate the marriages of the young and energetic. These chapersones usually have kids about the same age -- and they want grandbabies. If they can help some other older couple get grandbabies, maybe karma will be good back to them.
The paradox of the evening is the fact that this event is supposed to help young people meet and mate -- yet they can't communicate over the dropped out bass of the speakers. You usually end up nodding your head and smiling with anything anybody says. I guess Ursula was right; they have to rely on body language.
Speaking of body language, after studying the subtle nuances and inflections of this particular language, I've translated a few dance movements into modern English so you might more fully grasp what these youth are trying to say to each other:
Waving hands in the air = Would I be a viable partner to produce offspring with?
Booty shake = I can't mate now, but once you wed me by taking me through the temple, you can be sure nights will be pleasurable.
The safe shuffle = I don't really want to be here, but online dating has only given me matches from the Philippines and I'm not that desperate. Yet.
Circling around a guy with pop and lock skills: Finally the attention isn't on my moves but maybe a potential mate across the circle will notice my fun and happy disposition and be willing to follow my Twitter account.
By the end of the night there has been heartache as well as feelings of floating on cloud nine. There have been an average of 3.7 trips to the bathroom by the females checking that their hair still lingers behind their ears in the most seductive manner. At least one person has left crying, and at least two more will cry the next day once they realize the person they hit it off with isn't going to return their texts.
There have been no serious studies as to the probability that two unknown strangers will meet, fall in love and get married as a result of these peculiar Mormon dances. But every opportunity to increase the odds of finding an eternal companion before the ripe age of 28 is taken. That's why I find myself putting down the pen and joining the bouncing throngs.
So far online dating has only given me matches from Cambodia and it turns out I almost am that desperate.
This past weekend I got to go down to Anchorage for an LDS temple trip. It was great to get out of Fairbanks. I even saw caribou on the way down. One of the Anchorage YSA wards invited us to a dance. Now, I'm not that into dances.Granted, I can dance a storm around you, I just don't usually feel like showing off.
Sitting there, wondering when the night would come to an end, inspiration struck. When that happens, you can't disobey the muses. I got paper, pen and a hymn book, sat in a chair and started writing. Mind you, I was still in the gym, with the dance going on in front of me. I became that girl. The weird one. And I gloried in it.
Here is what I banged out on paper (with a few edits. The copy editing job is really starting to seep into my brain system. Shudder). For your information, YSA means "young single adult;" those in the LDS church that are 18-30. Now you know.
Observations of a YSA Dance
By Elissa Stewart
No boos. Modest dress. A basketball gym with haphazard strung Christmas lights.
A mash up of Thriller and Lady Gaga blast through the speakers. It's an appropriate beat for a scary event -- a Mormon YSA dance.
I stand with the group, yet a part as I write my observations. Tonight I am merely an anthropologist, studying the strange mating rituals of a group ostracized for their different ways. They are different, and yet beautiful -- in the same way a penguin will give a potential mate a pebble. Not a lot of logic, just pure weird.
Their favorite type of dance is the line dance. Not necessarily country, but a mix of the electric slide, pop and wobble and a rural rhythm called "Cotton Eyed Joe." I don't know if Joe would be pleased or astounded at how his name was being used. Then again, having cotton eyes, he would be prevented from most of the indecency.
The slide disintegrates into a slow song. As the tempo slows down, there is an energy change on the dance floor. A massive rush to the drinking fountain ensues by those too sweaty or too self-conscious to wait through those painful seconds wondering if someone will ask them to dance. Others claim a metal chair that hug the prickly-scratchy wall (this wall paper choice is a whole study in and of itself).
And then we have "those" couples. I put that word in quotation marks to symbolize the close and curving ability these people fit into each other. Appropriately, of course. They gaze into each others' eyes, dismissing the strong aroma of body odors and stale farts. They are the only two that exist in the room, under a hoop that will hopefully soon serve as a backdrop for their wedding receiving line.
The odd assortment of the collection adds to the mystery of the dancing ritual. There are big girls, small girls, girls swallowed up by their own vanity. And then the nice girls who come up to strange girls sitting in the corner writing (writing, at a dance -- who does that?) and introduce themselves and start small talk.
Now I don't want to group the males into one group, but for the most part they are a nervous bunch. Sure, there are the outliers -- those who wear sunglasses inside and have the moves of Usher with the morals of Joseph of Egypt. And the few males that you can't help but pity as awkwardness radiates from their clothes.
Putting the males and females together you get raging hormones of a religion that believes sex before marriage is a sin. The ability to get jiggy with it in a church approved setting is a counted blessing.
Not to worry -- there are chaperones, older couples so deliriously happy with their own marriages they can't help but facilitate the marriages of the young and energetic. These chapersones usually have kids about the same age -- and they want grandbabies. If they can help some other older couple get grandbabies, maybe karma will be good back to them.
The paradox of the evening is the fact that this event is supposed to help young people meet and mate -- yet they can't communicate over the dropped out bass of the speakers. You usually end up nodding your head and smiling with anything anybody says. I guess Ursula was right; they have to rely on body language.
Speaking of body language, after studying the subtle nuances and inflections of this particular language, I've translated a few dance movements into modern English so you might more fully grasp what these youth are trying to say to each other:
Waving hands in the air = Would I be a viable partner to produce offspring with?
Booty shake = I can't mate now, but once you wed me by taking me through the temple, you can be sure nights will be pleasurable.
The safe shuffle = I don't really want to be here, but online dating has only given me matches from the Philippines and I'm not that desperate. Yet.
Circling around a guy with pop and lock skills: Finally the attention isn't on my moves but maybe a potential mate across the circle will notice my fun and happy disposition and be willing to follow my Twitter account.
By the end of the night there has been heartache as well as feelings of floating on cloud nine. There have been an average of 3.7 trips to the bathroom by the females checking that their hair still lingers behind their ears in the most seductive manner. At least one person has left crying, and at least two more will cry the next day once they realize the person they hit it off with isn't going to return their texts.
There have been no serious studies as to the probability that two unknown strangers will meet, fall in love and get married as a result of these peculiar Mormon dances. But every opportunity to increase the odds of finding an eternal companion before the ripe age of 28 is taken. That's why I find myself putting down the pen and joining the bouncing throngs.
So far online dating has only given me matches from Cambodia and it turns out I almost am that desperate.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
Monday, December 17, 2012
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.
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.
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