Heaven In a Basket

This is a real treat. It's me making up a song. I know, it doesn't get much better than this. Maybe finding my ice cream... wait, I'm over that. Please excuse the laundry basket looks Madison and I are sporting- it was the last day of classes, i.e. finals and cleaning. Yuck. But I think it added to the divine lyrics. Something like that.

Prodigal Hanky Dion

I know, the prodigal blogger writer returns. For my feast I would be okay with roast lamb, but only if it was on some gyros. Those are Greek yumminess, in case you didn’t know.

No, I have not been sleeping in a pig pen (in regards to being a prodigal blog writer). But here's a run down on my life so far. My aunt said that she would give me and/or her daughter (who is a year younger) $100 if we got married this school year. She said her and my mom are sick of their sisters having all these grandkids. Then she told her other daughter who is 18 and going to be attending BYUI in the fall that if she helps she gets a $50 finders fee.

I told my mom who said she would also pay the $100 and another $50 finders fee for Courtney (the 18 year old). On Sunday she held someone’s grandbaby and almost called me to raise it to $200, but against her better (or worse?) judgment she didn’t. So I'm sure if anyone out there wants to help find me a husband my mom and aunt would also pay you $50. Or if you want to be my husband you could get half my booty. Er, as in the money. Although I guess if we got married what's mine is yours and vice versa. Enough of that.

The first weekend I was done with school (can I get a witness?) I went to my roommate’s house in Preston, Idaho. She was leaving on a mission to Portugal and wanted me to come to her farewell. It was a lot of fun. The only thing that irritated me was when we went to a July 24^th firework show (Preston is so close to Utah they join in the pioneer day festivities) and the last song of the night was “God Bless America”. I have no problems with God blessing America. I hope He does. Unless we all turn wicked, but ask Ether about that.

The problem I have is when they play that song sung by someone like Celine Dion. Hello! She’s French Canadian! I said that too. Out loud. So the people in the stands who were enjoying a patriotic night looked at me. I’m sorry, but I must stand for truth and righteousness. Celine Dion singing that song is not truth or righteous. However, I love her “All By Myself” song. I think it helps represent the French Canadians very well. To honor Celine, I’ll include songs that she has sung (will show up italicized).

I then proceeded Monday morning to travel down to Utah where I would fly home to Cali the next day. Come to find out, my flight was Monday morning, not Tuesday. I should have listened closer to the lyrics of “Don’t Save it All for Christmas Day” Maybe then I would have not flaked my life like dandruff. Thankfully, they didn’t just keep all the money and let me apply my ticket cost to another ticket. So I flew out that night.

Little did I know my whole family had gotten the stomach flu. “I Feel Too Much” I told my mother. But I never did get sick. But I felt like I was going to get sick so I just acted that way. Without the vomiting of course. I think it’s all about “The Prayer”. Without faith, I would have for sure gotten sick.

Sunday it was off to Arizona for my Grandma’s birthday and an unofficial family reunion. Being amongst all that family I thought to myself “These are the Special Times”. Especially because Grandma sent all the grandkids to the Marriott hotel. She only said “No Hanky Panky” (not a C.D. song, but if it was, I bet she’d put her skinny little arm in and her skinny little arm out and her skinny little arm in and shake it until it fell off all about).

The only hanky panky we committed was making a midnight trip to In N Out. The panky part came when we handed the drive through girl a pass a long card and she gave us a dirty look (don’t worry, I’ve been off my mission far too long, remember how old I am, to think of that on my own. It was my cousin who has only been home for 2 month’s idea). At least she didn’t say to us “Ne Partez Pas Sans Moi” because I’m pretty sure that’s French Canadian and I have no clue what it means. I bet if Celine were there she could translate. But I also bet Celine wouldn’t have gotten a double double animal style.

Friday I drove back up to Utah (hey, the state you’re in!) in a long car ride. We finished the last hour of a book on tape written by an LDS author who probably went to hair school (cheesy romance fiction with tons off ADD tangents. Hmmm, maybe I should have gone to hair school). In between falling asleep I think I caught the main character saying things like “No Living Without Loving You,” and “Listen to the Magic Man.” I didn’t know that Celine went to the same hair school as the author. Then we listened to another book on tape, also written by an LDS author, but it was much better because it was a historical fiction about an oppressed Scottish royalty maiden during the 1700s and a horse named “Naked”. Okay, there were horses, but they weren’t part of the story, hence I don’t really know their names. But I bet there have been horses in history with that name.

And so here I have been ever since. And here I will be until Tuesday. At which point I will then travel to California. At which point I will come back to Utah after some days. At which point I will go back up to Rexburg. But through all of this, remember- My Heart Will Go On. And that sometimes Blogger is dumb and I can't get these dadgum lines off. Sorry.

Suddenly

I sat down to write on my blog and suddenly became very tired. Don't want to fall asleuiwotpu4i[oj4qgw;klvdsgmej4triepofdsklmgfjklejjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

I'm a Winner, but no Chicken Dinner

Remember how I rebelled blogging for a couple of weeks? Well during that time I won a couple of photography contests. It was for the Photographics Society at BYUI. Before you go thinking I'm ready to take on Ansel Adams- there weren't that many entries (probably around 20 for each category, edited and unedited). Shocking, I know. They have a contest where everyone in the Society votes on their favorite, and then a second contest where real photographers in the community (I think) judge. So you have the opportunity of winning multiple times for the same photos. That's what happened to me. I won 2nd place for Society choice (the vase pic). The best was that there was a three way tie for 2nd place for the judges competition and two of my photos won for 2nd place. I told them I had never been in contest with myself. I'll have to try it more often. Here are the two photos that got me $30 each, and the vase got me an additional $10-so $70 all together. I know I've already posted them, but just in case you forgot:



The park bench was entered in the non-edited category and didn't win anything, but hey I love it like the rest of my photo children. Let's be honest, it didn't bring in bacon, so actually it's towards the bottom of the totem pole. And if you couldn't guess, the contest was "nights and lights" hence the million night/light pics I've been posting. I guess it paid off. Literally.


You might want to know what I did with that money. Well that, combined with the fact that my birthday was around the same time, I bought Dreamweaver- Adobe's software for making websites. It's pretty cool and I'm glad I have it. I'll be a web desiging pro in no time. And no time=who knows how long. But I'm off to a good start.

Jellystone Without Peanut Butter

I've been rebelling the whole blog thing- I need to rebel in some aspects of my life or I don't think I'd feel human. And we know we're here to have a human experience. But to what you really wanted to hear about- my adventures in Jellystone National Park. Did you know that it actually used to be called Jellystone until 1992 when they found out people had a negative connotation of the word "jelly" so they changed it to Yellowstone? True story.(On a side note, is there a certain quota of lies you can tell until you're really thrust down to hell? Nothing relating with the above fact).
We were pretty darn close to these female moosen. When I changed lenses I did something funky to my camera (sorry, my father's camera) so the first couple of pics turned out weird but then we fixed it. One of them was going to let me ride on its back, but it didn't want to offend the other tourists. Right after we got in the car and I was slowly pulling out into the street and stopped because there was this old couple walking in front of us. They gave me the dirtiest looks and were saying something with their mouths, I think it was "Why, what a nice car full of youngsters. Too bad our grandchildren aren't nearly as good looking". To say the least I tried to hit at least one old couple at every place we went.

This is called "Medusa Geyser" as seen by the violent eruption of redhair.


How could we not go see Old Faithful? Or the man in the blue shirt.

Yes, this is a bird. No, it is not talking to Madison. Yes, I did capture him/her in its nest.

This is one of the prettiest/most photographed hot pools in Yellowstone. It's called Morning Glory. I don't know why it's one of the most photographed- I'm not there to enhance its beauty.


My two favorite named geysers. I think they named them after me. Touching.

I Need Help

Well, we all know I need help. But specifically, with my brand spanking new website. I'm pretty proud of it. Even though it's not finished, this little bun is baking quite well in the oven. And no, I'm not pregnant.

The thing is, there is just something missing on the home page. I don't know what to put in the black hole. I need suggestions. I've tried some photos, but it's a touchy sensitive easy to get offended design. Please offer advice. Be my muse.

Hence why I haven't gotten to the blog in awhile- finals are coming up and I'm beating my head into a peecan shell doing this website. Why I don't throw something easier together- well I may have taught myself to ease up on the perfection, but some things cannot lack perfection. This being one of them.

Maybe the person with the best idea will win some of my amazing chocolate chip cookies. Or a pet penguin. Haven't decided.

The site is (it's a no brainer) ElissaGator.com. Thanks!

The Case of the Missing Ben and Jerry's. (Unsolved)

I have a mystery to write to you. Last week, because it was my birthday, I decided to buy myself some Ben and Jerry’s Oatmeal Cookie Chunk ice cream. It’s their best kind. Seriously. You should get someone to buy it for you. I bought it Sat. night. (You getting down these details?).

At approximately 12:30a.m. I decided to be sinful because it was technically my birthday and have a couple of bites. So I did as I was meandering about the internet. Now here is where it gets tricky. I specifically remember restraining myself from eating all of it (even though it was so way yummy), and closing the lid. I then thought I put it back in the freezer.

The next day was Sunday. It wasn’t dark and stormy, so that doesn’t help set a mysterious mood for my mystery, but you can pretend like it was. I went to church at 9 a.m. I returned home at 12:20. (Only because the last speaker went over by 15 mins). I did visiting teaching. I laid down to take a nap. I woke up yearning for that sweet escape in its Ben and Jerry’s container. I walked to the freezer.

And it was gone.

Frantically, I searched through the freezer, calling its name so it would come to its momma. No such luck. The fridge, of course, I thought, then desperately guided my sorrowful hands amidst the leftovers and other perishable food. Talk about perishable. I was about to perish, for it was not in their either. My heart sank as I realized I must have thrown it away. Carefully, as obsessed as I was in finding it, I wasn’t too obsessed to take out all the contents of the trash, but I searched through our trash.

Still, nothing.

Cupboards, oven, microwave, under the bed covers, drawers, closet, bathroom, backpack.

Still, nothing.

It was time I profiled possible suspects. I had to confront the roommates. One by one I questioned them in a sunlit room with the light on overhead not making that big of an intimidation statement. They all said no. They said if they did take it they would have told me. Were the lying? I secretly searched through their bedroom trash.

Still, nothing.

Was my purchase so divine that I dreamed it in my head? It couldn’t have been, I remember the smooth texture of cinnamon ice cream gently welcoming itself into my mouth. The softened chunks of oatmeal cookie that I so tenderly chewed so as not to get a brain freeze. Chocolate pieces of heaven being rescued from the spoon by my tongue. No, it had not been a dream. It was as real as alligators in a swamp. And the reality was, it was still gone, and nothing could bring it back.

The truth was before my eyes. But I didn’t want to admit it. My beloved frozen love was cheating on me. It had run away to the neighbors to be with their popsicles. Did I have evidence? No, some things you just have a gut feeling about. I just hope that it’s happy. Wherever it may be. Such a story never was, that of the love between an ice cream and a 98.6 degree human being. Human girl.

The moral of the story; you misplace keys and pairs of socks, and occasionally kitchen sinks, but never a carton of ice cream. And so I hope you never have to experience such pain and misery.

Until next time, I bid thee ado.