smack!

The other day, I got in my car to go run an errand when I heard a loud, SMACK! It sounded like something had hit my car. My immediate response was that a squirrel had fallen onto my car. You see, we have a lot of big trees in our neighborhood that squirrels like to use as their jungle gym, hopping from one branch to another, and sometimes they aren’t very graceful. Presently, there is a dead squirrel laying on the ground, well, its remains are smushed into the asphalt. I know, sad. I have also seen others on the streets with tails frozen sticking up. Yeah, gross.

Anyway, it’s obviously not that abnormal for me to have thought a squirrel had hit my car. So, I got out of my car, and scoured the roof of my car for a dead squirrel. No squirrel. So, then I thought, “Hmm, maybe a tire popped!” I circled my car. All tires were still intact and unpunctured. I knew I had heard something, but I was too cold to stay outside my car, searching for the cause of the loud noise. I got back in my car and began considering other possibilities. As I was sitting there, waiting for my car to get warm, I remembered how the neighbors get angry if we park on “their side of the street.”

I thought to myself, “Oh my gosh, I really pissed them off. They are shooting at me… Maybe that was a pellet gun!” I was weirded out, and sort of scared, so I drove off. I was less than a few miles away when I realized that I had a case of Diet Coke in the back. I pulled over, lifted the back-hatch to find that each of the cans had expanded to the point where the tops had blown off, and a mess of brown slushy ice covered the back of my car.

Moral of the story: don’t leave canned drinks in your car in the winter in Minnesota; you might mistake it for dead squirrels or angry neighbors.

55102 to 99835

Yes, the time has come. I am finally leaving the Midwest. No more Minnesota for me. I have had enough of their silly accents anyhow. -If you don't know what I mean, watch Fargo.

Anyway, I am heading back to Sitka in mid-December. I am going to be opening a cafe. Its no longer just a rumor. Its official. I said it.

will work for $$

Today, I continued the job search here in St. Paul, Minnesota... I rode the bus down West 7th to a ghetto-nasty-fabulous strip mall with generic stores labeled by half-lit, red, flourescent signs. I submitted applications at:

"Cooper's SuperValu" - which is a dingy, ol' grocery store

Taco Bell - where I filled out a quiz that asked me questions like,
"Do people irritate you?"
"Do you get angry often?"
"Someone spills their drink all over the floor, how do you react?"
"Two boys order three tacos, what should you recommend they add to their order?"
a) supersize drinks
b) healthy choice meal
c) salads

and

Dunn Brothers Coffee - I might actually have a chance here. Wow.

After trying to sell myself to those awesome establishments, I decided to walk back to Rudie's, a coffee shop near my house. It took me about an hour and now here I am sitting in my sweat. The "10,000 Lakes" that exist here in Minnesota create a lot of muggyness. Yum.

good times, great oldies

"What the heck were you doing holding a muffler?"
-Well, I have been hesitant to share this with all because it may seem a bit ridiculous that I threw down about $1,000 for a Manual 1986 Volkswagon Cabriolet Convertible. Yeah, that precious lil' maroon mufflerless thing, is my new ride. I am taking a break from the bus and enjoying my cheap, crappy car until it breaks.

So anyway, Kristina came to town last weekend and as I was touring her around the town, impressing her with the multiple stoplights, more than single-laned roads, and scary, homeless crack-heads, I decided to drive her to Ikea. -You might say BIG woop, but that place is amazingly huge. It is like a furniture theme park. The whole place is kind of a maze. With a "Start" and "Finish" and short-cuts along the way. Anyway, after spending at least an hour strolling through, we exited and spent another fifteen minutes circling the building (yeah, its that big) to find it. We finally found it and pulled out, happily resting our feet. We stopped at a stoplight and I put it in neutral (yeah, I am learning to remember; stalling sucks). The light turned green, I put it in gear, and the engine became louder. Kristina and I looked at each other, but continued.
After about a minute of listening close, I said, "Hmm... The engine sounds really loud."

Kristina nodded and said, "Yeah it does."

I listened a little more, "Well, its a pretty old car. It has always been loud, but... Hmm... It kinda sounds like we are dragging something."

Kristina smirked and said, "Yeah, like your muffler?" and she laughed.

I laughed too. -I mean really, like we were dragging my muffler? Naw...

A few blocks later our exchanged glances were becoming increasingly worried.

"Hmm... maybe I should pull over..." And I swerved for the nearest place.

A beauty shop.

I got out of the car only to see a chunk of metal barely hanging from the rear of my car. Yeah, my muffler. I pulled it off, and Kristina and I bust a gut. We threw it in the back of my car and sped off, loudly.

The little car has already provided me with some great (quite arguable after hearing these stories) experiences.

Today, for example:

A couple of my friends needed a ride and I agreed since only so long ago I was unhappily relying on the Seattle busses. Anyway, they did their business, and then pulled out. -I put it in reverse, backed out, and put it back into first ge-.

Well, I attempted to put it in first gear, but it didn't allow me to. I tried again. Nope. It insisted on remeaning in reverse. Hmm. That is strange. I was with Zak at the time, who is very skilled in cars (former mechanic), so I asked him to look at it. He tried many things, but lacked expertise in Volkswagons and was toolless. So, we recruited the help of a guy at a neighboring store, and asked our friend (who has never driven a car) to steer it into a parking space while we pushed.

Since it was her first time driving a car, we carefully instructed her that all she had to do was steer the car into the space, and press the brake. We explained that the brake was the middle pedal, and the others were useless. We told her that if she panicked, she could even pull the emergency brake. So yeah, she had never driven, but all she had to do was steer/brake. Simple.

So Zak, the guy from the store, and I began pushing the car, it picked up a bit of speed and began rolling into the space. -And it would have, had she steered two feet to the left... And then if she had hit the breaks! Crunch! She panicked, and forgot about the brake. We pushed the car back from the one it had just bumped into, and pulled it into the space beside. Luckily, we were going so slow, it merely scratched the other car, and the owner shrugged. Talk about amateur driving, MARTA. Haha.

Oh well, no real harm done. And when Zak got in the car to grab the keys and lock the doors so we could leave, it went into gear! So, my sweet ride is STILL functional!

downdate

Hokay... So enough with excuses for not being enough of an internet bum... And here is an update of some '05 kids. (As you will see, they are all staying so busy with their productive lives. Yuck. Yuck.) And if you aren't included, its your own dang fault.


Jennifer has a new boyfriend. And apparently, "The dorm toilet is like way dysfunctional and backs up like multiple times a month, and it did on friday. Her new bf was there all weekend. On Saturday he ate something bad and when we came back to my room he got really sick. So he was puking in the toilet that had like poo in it. And the people couldn't come fix it until Tuesday, so when the plumber guy came we hid in our rooms cause the toilet was like FULL of yeah, nasty stuff. And we heard him come in and open it up and he was like 'AHHHHHH! OH NASTY.'"
She continued, "Yeah it was... sick. And the toilet is backed up AGAIN and I KNOW it is my roommate's fault and she's lying about it, which angers me!"

Jim has a new roomate who wets himself in their room everytime he gets drunk.

Lauren has been dating lots of boys, playing in an orchestra, skiiing/snowboarding, and getting down with her bad self.

Emily is going back to BLONDE. (The first attempt resulted in "Vitamin C" color. Yeah, the singer.)

Julia is convinced that Anchorage is full of creeps.

Chandler ran around the Harvard campus naked.

Manfred recently went to bed at 4:40 am. Other than that, he said, "Look at my facebook pics, they speak for themselves... ie Margarita Monday."

Coral Pendall said she saw a baby sucking on a man's toes recently. She was on her way to a circus.

Zac Clarke reported, "Um, I need more chairs, maybe a loveseat. Um, laundry has to be done. It's friday, so there are [things] in order. "

Kristina has been eating lots of eggs and listening to "horse-wheezing/screaming" at her new job.

Shannon has been chilling in Ashland with the Bob Marley lovin' hippies. Recently, she got a tattoo of a treble clef on the back of her neck with the words ''my everything'' underneath.

Brit hangs out with Rena. If you know her, you'll understand the irony of this situation.

Hannah has a big drawer full of food and she has to do Field Work at a school for kids with behavioral problems for Education Class. Also, she has purchased a Spanish dictionary that is as wide as her hand span.

Robyn sleeps in the same bed as another girl every night.

Zach Carlson is single. He got a new truck; '97 F150 and he's freezing his ass off.

Clea is "still with Jon and is mostly consumed by that, classes and tubaness."

Tawny has a teacher who is mad at her class for not knowing enough. And her friend is reading the inferno, so she put depressing/scary quotes all over the stalls in the dorm.

4735 21st Ave NE

I am no longer living in the dorms. Woot. Woot. I am now living in the U-Dist. For those of you unfamiliar with Seattle, the University District is the area around U-Dub (University of Washington). I am living in a big, old house with five guys and one girl.

Other than relocating my living space, I have been:

Listening to my English teacher rant about everything from how to tell a story, to the difference between a “film” and “tv”, to how he gave his son the “birds and the bees” talk

Making friends on the buses with my sweet eyebrow abilities (inquire within)
-Most recently, an interracial, teenage gay couple, a punk/goth girl, and a negro-bad ass.

Listening to larger amounts of techno

Using “cool-mint” toothpaste

Pursued by a Postman with rock-solid abs

Text messaging too much

Not blogging enough

as a bee

I have not completely forgotten about my web presence... I have just been increasingly busy with school, work, friends, living, eating, drinking (water and Diet coke, that is), riding the bus, doing laundry, cleaning up after myself like a good girl, running the dish washer, writing lots of "fiction" for my writing class, attempting to play WOW (if you know what it is, you do, if not, well, then, darn), finishing the 3rd season of Alias, grocery shopping after midnight, getting soakin wet in the Seattle rain, text messaging, and pondering my life.

So, blog/picture updates are in store. Hold on to your britches, folks.

threads

Winter break in Sitka was spellbinding. I made it a point to do as many things on the community calendar as possible (i.e. Chess at McDonald's, Dan Evans' Slide show, White E, concerts, etc.). The only things I didn't really get around to were the AA meetings and "Take Pounds Off Sensibly." -Next time. Also, while in Sitka, I worked for my dad. And I don't mean that I did some stuff around the house or washed his truck. I mean, I worked for SouthEast Fire Protection, putting sprinklers in the ceiling. I got pretty greasy bein' a "pipefitter," but it was pretty great. I was the only female I saw around the job sites. Big surprise. -It seemed to be an even bigger surprise to others.
At one point, I was standing on an eight-foot ladder, "hanging some pipe," when I saw Megan Lehman and her mom. "Hey Megan," I said casually.
"She looked around, and then finally up, meeting eyes with me. She frowned in confusion and hesitantly said, "Ohh, hi...?"

Anyway, now I am back to the academic grind. I am taking two classes this quarter; "Sociology 222: Society and Behavior" and "English 405: Writing Fiction."

Life is well.

one calorie, two calorie, red calorie, blue calorie

Back in Sitka I reside. For now. Until January 2nd at some annoying hour of the day. Being home is nice. Its good to see so many familiar faces and places. And so nice to have a big, cozy bed in my room all to myself. Driving the Volvo is fabulous and the food is great.

The school food was really, really starting to get frightening. I tend to stick to the salad bar (aka: brown lettuce and cucumbers) or the pasta. At first, I enjoyed the soups made by "Bon Apetit," but after I realized they were composed of all of the leftovers, I kept my distance from the soup bar. Its quite peculiar how, after Thanksgiving, EVERYTHING included turkey; turkey soup, turkey fried rice (yeah, pork is cool, but turkey?), turkey casserole, turkey lasagna, turkey burritos, etc. Sometimes our school tries to get far too creative for their capacity with menu items such as:
beef in mustard sauce pasta
cauliflower casserole
pork with pink peppercorns
clam linguini

But for now, thanks for the real salad, pesto pasta, homemade cookies, and home-style cookin'!
-It looks like I will have no problem gaining the freshmen fifteen, at home, that is.

table dancing in the "snow"

It is becoming so cold that sometimes it feels like my organs might freeze. Also, Seattle had its first snow of the season the other day! Eager to walk amidst the snowflakes on my way to work, I dressed myself in a warm fleece. When I stepped outside, my hopes of big, fluffy flakes melted into the ground along with the wet clumps of rain. Who called that stuff snow? Damn them. Fake snow. It was definitely not the kind of snow that you enjoy watching fall and try to capture in your mouth and can make snowmen with. Instead, it was just cold wetness with no purpose other than to wash the urine out of the alleys.

When I finally got to work, soaked by the "snow," I realized that many people took the "snow" pretty seriously and were thrown quite off balance by it:

A woman scurried in, closed her umbrella, swiped her bangs to the side and fretfully asked, "Are any of the classes cancelled tonight?"
"Umm... Not to my knowledge."
"Oh, well, I just wasn't sure because of that bazarre weather out there! Thanks!" she replies, relieved, but still looking muddled.

Another woman with little beady eyes, annoyingly bright, blond hair, wearing impractical, high-heeled, pointy-toed shoes asked, "Oh, are you guys closed?"
My initial mental response was, "Yeah, and that's why we're all here working! So, come on in!"
But instead, I responded, "Nope, we're open."
Quite relieved, she responded, "Oh, ok good. I just wasn't sure because of the craaazy weather and all."
"Oh, yeah, all that snow out there!" And right after she signed in, I gave her an exaggerated, sympathetic look, and said, "Oh, wait, NOW we're closed. Mmm, yeaaaah, sorrrry. The weather."

-The Epicenter is a great viewing site for frantic business people.

Some of them even like to nickname me...
A cockie skeez who visits the gym, probably to tone his body "for the laaaadies," came in one day and said to me, "Hey you, what're you doin' tonight?"
"Well, I'm not sure yet... It IS the weekend, so I'm sure something."
"Oh, yeah? You like to DRINK? You like to PARTY? You like to GET IT ON?"
"Umm... Right. Here's your towel!" I responded, ignoring his remarks.
"Haha. You're a wild one aren't you? You like to get dirty? I bet you like tequila."
I forced a half-smile as he went into the locker room.
On his way out, he pointed to me and said, "TD. Yeah, that's you."
Again, he was out of sight.
When he came back from working out, I had gained the courage to ask him, "What does TD stand for?"
"Come on girl, you a TABLE DANCER! I can see it in ya."

FYI: I am not a "table dancer" and I have no idea where this guy came up with this stuff about me.

operation csi

I have some very peculiar friends that attend the Seattle Art Institute and major in video. Recently, one of them had a science project that required some sort of visual... And being the fab' video student that she is, she decided to visualize her "forensics" topic in video form. -Hence, the crazy video of bloopers from our mock CSI (Crime Scene Investigates).

wounded by a cab, recovering with a scab

Last weekend, I spent some time with my local fam' and had my first home-cooked meal since being away. It was great. Until disaster struck. Towards the end of dinner, my Granny wasnt feeling well, to the point where medical assistance was a good idea. Two ambulances arrived, and ended up escorting her to the hospital. -Everything is ok now. That woman just has far too much ambition and likes to stay way too busy; cooking tons of good food, helping kids at the juvenile detention center, and being a grandmother/great-grandmother to dozens of kids/adults.

Anyway, I ended up going home a bit early, and after arriving back at the dorm, I found myself a bit bored or rather, less-entertained. So I decided to hop on a bus to visit a friend downtown. I patiently awaited the bus, standing in the rain, until it finally arrived... And it passed me! It didn't stop! What?! Why ME?!? So, I decided to forget relying on King Country Transit for the evening and turned to my other lifeline, "Orange Cab."

After waiting for their service for at least fifteen minutes, I decided to approach a cab, awkwardly parked nearby. I told him I was going to "2300 Elliot." -If you kind of know Seattle, you have a pretty good idea of where this is. I mean, I haven't even lived here for two months, and I know exactly where it is. And most people who have been to Seattle know that Elliott is between the waterfront and Pike Place. Simple. However, this cabbie had no idea. -I guess this should have been my first clue. So as my African "friend" could barely see over the steering wheel, not that it would have helped, because he didn't know where the hell he was going, he got caught at every stop light imaginable, as he was taking all the wrong roads.

$10 more than I usually have to pay, and 10 minutes more than I usually have to ride, we finally arrived in the general area where I needed to be "dropped." -At this point, I didn't want to waste any more time or money on his bad driving skills, and just told him, "Anywhere along here is fine." He pulled over, told me the fare, and I handed him a $20. -Not a $50, or a $100, or anything complicated, a twenty-dollar bill. He didn't have enough change. So, he decided to run into a convenience store to get some change. I waited in the cab, annoyed, but patient enough. Five minutes later he returned; no change.

"I am sorry mam, let me pull in over here and check." We ended up in a big parking lot, and he walked over to the parking payment box and was gone for at least another five minutes and when he finally returned, no change, again.

I had no patience left for his chase for change and told him, "I don't want to pay for this, I am already late. This has costed me more than ever, and has taken longer than ever, please just let me go. This is ridiculous."

"I can't let you do that, mam. I am not doing this intentionally," he responded.

I didn't want him to call the cops on me for not paying a $12 cab fare, so I suggested a credit card payment. He took my card, and swiped it every way possible, even the side without the barcode. No luck. Then he tried manually entering all of the digits on my card, but forgot part of the expiration date, so he had to enter all the information again. It didn't work; operator error.

He decided to drive a little further and look for a "gas station." As most know, gas stations are few and far between in central downtown Seattle, so I directed him towards a mini-mart, and after he had driven six blocks further than my destination, he parked gracelessly, jumped out, and started running to the mart. I, too, hopped out, and followed. In the store, I saw him approaching the register with a Coke. "I have to buy something for change!" I clenched my jaw and nodded.

He turned to me, "Wait, why did you leave the car?"

"Because I didn't want to sit in it any longer. I want my change for the cab ride that I shouldn't
be paying for, right now."
"Did you lock the doors?" he inquired as if this was suddenly the most important aspect of his job; not getting people places efficiently and easily.
"NO. Its not my cab! Can I please just have my change."

And when I finally received my measely eight dollars, I began walking in the rain down an unfamiliar side street, where I saw a man urinating on a dumpster, kids smoking crack in an alley, and other unneccessary schtuff. I finally arrived at Heather's apartment, and collapsed for an episode of Alias.

tricks are for kids, "treats" are for adults

Halloween, Hallowe'en - noun - the night of 31 October when children dress in special clothes and people try to frighten each other

Despite this general definition of October 31st, it seems that different age groups tend to define the day in unique ways. The college-age group, girls in particular, for example, like to use Halloween as an excuse to wear the least amount of clothing possible and call themselves things like:

bad school girls - a short, short mini-skirt is required uniform
personal secretaries
female pirates - whom just so happen to have all of their clothes practically RIPPED off because that's how pirates swing, right?
cops - big aviators, red lipstick, tight shorts, bursting blouse, and hand-cuffs ready
nurses - short, tight and white
maids - at your service for anything
skimpy skiers - an excuse to wear a Russian-looking fur hat, and uggs, however, unrealistically, shorts and a tank
starbucks girl - oh, am I only wearing an apron? woops!

I guess if you've got it, flaunt it. And especially while you are young and can celebrate Lucifer's day with some "spirits."

ak day

It is Alaska Day! And I think Sitka is the only place in the world that actually celebrates it properly. I mean, most of the people around here that I mentioned it to where like, "What? Are you serious? Did you just invent that holiday?"

And of course, I had to explain to them the significance of the Alaskan purchase, etc, etc. But what is even worse is that people from ALASKA don't even know about it. However, I am taking it upon myself to educate those around me of the importance of this day in celebration form. So, although I can't bring the Keystone Cops, raining parade with bad, uncoordinated marching band music, and the "Beards and Bonnets Contest," I still recommend that you find a way to celebrate ALASKA DAY appropriately...

shakin' it up

The Job Status:
Hot Dog on a Stick wasn't actually hiring in this area. -Darn, no sweet uniform (click to see) for me.
As for being a "Professional Test Subject"... The only studies that I know of are for "whiplash victims" and people suffering from pain in strange places. -Yeah, no.

So, I was called by "Epicenter Fitness" and just hours after the interview, I was asked to "join the team."

I get to wear a rad little shirt that says "Epicenter Fitness." Woop, woop. Its a pretty fancy gym. There is a yoga studio, a kickboxing studio, a cycling studio, an aerobics studio, a "fast fitness" section, a weight room, and a normal machine area. All of the machines have little flat-screen tvs with remotes. -Its pretty hi-tech/hi-class. And I get a free membership. I work at the Front Desk, so I get to answer the phone lots and lots. It is the coolest thing in the world... Everytime I answer, I get to say:

"Thanks for calling Epicenter-Seattle where we're shakin' up the world of fitness, this is Elaina, how may I help you?"

Yeah, so that's my job. And I get to ride the bus even more now that I have to work on 3rd avenue. As a matter of a fact, the other day when I was coming home from work, I had my most hilarious experience of all on the bus:

On the way up the hill, a big, black girl boards the bus singing, “I’m havin’ a paaaaa’tay!” Haha. I can't tell if she's just happy. Or crazy.
However, most of the people heading "up the hill" are en route to Harborview which has quite the extensive mental illness program. The girl talks about how out of breath she is, and uses the excuse, "Yeah, well, its 'cause I'm fat. And so was my mama." Before I can conclude whether she IS truly crazy, or just really outspoken, she tells a stranger, “I’m goin’ to Harborview to have an abortion. And I’m going to sell my body and my blood for money! –But I actually can’t because I have a mental illness.”

Some people turn and shoot glares in her direction, some people bury their head even further into themselves in embarrassment, and some giggle and attempt to inconspicuously stare (aka: Elaina).

Then she breaks out into song again, “Let’s talk about sex!”

After doing her little rendition of the Salt 'n' Peppa' song, she scoots closer to an innocent mans and attempts to teach him Spanish. Why? I do not know.

Finally, her stop comes, and she gets up and says to a man (who obviously doesn't realize that he's in the aisle a bit, “Sir, excuse me. Umm, excuse me sir." But the man doesn't move, so she says, "Jesus Christ mister, don’t you fucking understand English?”

At this point, I am at the peak of my staring. My eyes never leave her mass, as I must record the happenings for this blog. Luckily, she turns to the girl across from me, rather than myself, and says, "What are you lookin’ at Mexican ‘ho?”
the "Mexican girl" replies, “Wha?"
and the big, black crazy girl contines, “I’m not a lesbian so quit starin’.”
“Get the fuck off the bus, nigga," the "Mexican girl" is MAD.

In other news, I went to a gay club with a straight guy the other night. I danced with a gay guy who told me, "You are soo hot for a girl."
And I responded, "Umm.. Aren't you gay?"
"Well, yeah, most of the time, but I like YOU."

I also saw my first cross-dressers. Men as women = uber hot.
Oh, and Jason and I made a bum YELL at us. He started screaming about how we NEVER worked for a single dollar in our life. And how it was always just given to us. Yeah, he told us off as he dug through a garbage can. I kept having to turn my back, as we walked away, to make sure he wasn't going to run up behind us and assault us. Scary.

One other item of note. When I got off the bus today, there was an old woman lying on the ground with blood coming out of her mouth. I don't know what happened. The EMTs were tending to her.

I love Seattle.

seattle lust

They say that "all kinds" roam the city, but I never really took it too literal. Well, they were right. Here are some examples of the kind of people that I share a city with now...

I have recently been researching jobs and alternative places to live in the future at this site called "craigslist.org." -It is actually pretty convenient. -You can find everything from used bicycles to, well, yeah, you'll see:

Looking for Sleuth to Take Photos
Reply to: job-98953834@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-09-21, 10:07AM
If you have a camera and a sense of adventure, I have a fun job for you! I need someone with a camera to "stake out" a man and get me photos. I cannot find a detective agency in Seattle that wants to handle a job this small, so I am seeking an adventurous person with a camera who wants to earn a few hundred bucks.
Compensation: $500 paid upon successful completion.

Free Rent
Reply to: anon-101453800@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-10-02, 4:36PM
Free rent in nice townhome in exhange for some cleaning duties plus booty call. Don't worry, owner is 30 and handsomely cute! email enquiries.

And then there is "The Stranger," the local alternative magazine. In the back of each issue contains the "LustLab" where people can post "Women seeking Men," "Men seeking Women," "Men seeking Men," and "Women seeking Women."
Here are a few of my favorites:

Buncha muncha cruncha humans!
sweet, shy, chubby girl lookin for a strong guy to hang out with and who respects my married life as well. no drama, no control issues please!
pinkocommie, 23

Charming sociopath bruise me badly
extremely busty (38F), classically pretty brunette, inexorably drawn to the abyss, seeking an alpha male, gentlemanly in public but a sick fre in private. I adore nasty misogynists. can you seriously scare me without actually hurting me? dark bruises please.
thanatos, 33

Let's have some fun
My name is Jeff. I am seeking a hot and horny, sexy and kinky open minded female to have fun with. I enjoy french kissing, toe sucking, [and other bad things]. I also like short skirts and dresses, diferent color pantyhouse and sexy lingerie.
seattlejeff, 45

I have been around the block a few times and now I have had to face a very ugly surprise. I have HPV-Human Papilloma Virus or Genital Warts. While I have NO VISIBLE WARTS, I had a couple of bad pelvic exams and so they tested for it and voila! Not only is it HPV but the Doctor also found a cancerous growth on my cervix, (yes, I said CANCER). But, lets cut the crap. If you want to meet me. Lets do it.
Miss Lily, 33

Prowling
I'm hunting. I'm a kitten. I'm a top. I'm a bottom. I will tear your throat out and lick your tears.
Ms. Fitz, 31

When I close my eyes...
...I imagine myself powerless, unable to move my hands or feet, blindfolded and gagged. Do you ever have that fantasy? I do. Are you comfortable enough to let me do it to you too?
Amabis, 38

Lustingforyou
Looking for a woman that wants to help me feel like one of the girls, help me dress up, check out guys, and sometimes just treat me like her bitch.
just wanna have fun, 37

F2M Slutboy
Born female, but pass fully as a male. Been on testosterone for 4.5 years, no surgery yet, so I still have hot tits and a hungry [region]. Lookin for a queer man!
F2Mbottomboy, 24

Oh, and trust me, there are way, way, worse ones, but I realize that this is seen by quite the audience, so I will halt there. Don't be offended or appauled, for this was published in a PUBLIC newspaper before it got into my hands.

madrona

Seattle would be so, so much better with the Volvo. Rather than moving several people place-to-place per day (most importantly, transporting myself), and serving as an adventure mobile, it rests, lazily, in our garage. If I were that car, I'd probably be so relieved for once. But I'm not. Instead, I miss its unconditional good times and transportation and have to depend on the King County Metro (AKA: Public Bus).

The nice thing about having your own car is that YOU get to choose exactly where you go and who you share your space with. However, public transportation doesn't exactly offer those luxuries. Instead, you must find the appropriate "bus stop" and await its arrival. $1.25 and you can go just about anywhere in the city. And if you remember a transfer, and make use of it within the next few hours, your return trip is paid for. So, the bus is cheap. But you pay for it with the amount of germs you pick up, and the strange people you must withstand in close proximity.

Thus far, I have already experienced some outré (bizarre) people...

Most recently, a man boarded the bus and began digging in his pockets for bus money. The bus driver, irritably told him, "You need to have your money ready before you get on the bus. We aren't leaving until you put your money in the machine, Mister."

The grungy, un-shaven man paused and replied, "Hey man, you just calm down. I've got plenty of money right here in my pocket. You just wait a minute. I'll put it in your little machine-doo-dad. You just stay right there and hang on and ever'thing is gonna be ok. No worries dude. See, here it is. I've got hundreds of dollars actually, Mr. Bus Driver. There ya go sir."

He eagerly took a seat near me and continued, "Ya know, life isn't hard. People just make life hard. Ya just gotta be. There isn't nothin' in this life that is worth gettin' all worked up over. People just make things worse for themselves. I mean, I just live, and everything is good for me..." -And he kept goin on like that.

As he kept rambling on about his self-assuring philosophies of life, I pretended to be ignoring him while examining his appearance from the corner of my eye. Other than his normal ho-bo-ish, torn, dirty clothes, he had an inner pocket that held a can of beer with a straw in it (probably for easy access). -No wonder "life isn't hard."

Also, this last week, I noted a handi-capped man with what I thought was just a bottle of apple juice in his little motorized wheel chair. -Upon closer examine of the ORANGE JUICE bottle, I realized it was urine.

And then there are the sick perverts who like to use full buses as an excuse to grope innocent girls. "Oh, sorry, let me just reach directly across your chest so I can hang on to this handlebar... Oh, woops, sudden jerk, sorry about having to grab on to your... Umm..."

"Yeah, mister, that was my boob!"

Riding the bus is posh.

hello mr. cello

Myself and a new comrade, Jason, legged our way to the "El Corazon" for a concert last night. One of the ugly things about living in the city is that when you have to "go," there is no where. We went into a McDonald's and there was a security guard next to the bathroom and he said we each needed to make a purchase before we could RELIEVE ourselves. So, I bought two small fries, and we were granted permission to the bathrooms. -I guess that complication explains why, while walking around, I am often overcome by a strong, urine odor. I mean, homeless people can't afford fries just so they can pee indoors.

Anyway, after walking quite a distance, we made it to the club and stood in line to be frisked and pay admission. Inside, was completely black, just like all of the patrons. I'm pretty sure we were the only ones not wearing all black. The opening band, "Eyes of Fire," well-represented the crowd as they yelled into the microphones, at the full length of their vocal chords, "IIII HAAAATTEEEE YOOOOOOOOU!" We were fortunate enough to be at the very front of the stage, directly under two large speakers.

At the end of their performance, the drummer threw his drumstick out into the crowd. It ricocheted off of the hardcore fan standing near me and fell to the ground where I bended and snapped just in time to snatch the drumstick. The darkly dressed girl, with a lisp, angrily murmered, "oh my goth..."

Several minutes later, the crowd began to woop and holler as the group members of Apocalyptica filled the stage. There were four cellists and a drummer. They lacked vocals, but made up for it with their electric-orchestral sound. They re-did songs like "Nothing Else Matters" and other rad, heavy songs. -There were parts where the whole crowd sang along, so I'm pretty sure they are popular songs, but I'm not very adept when it comes to screamo.

Yeah, so I am officially bad-ass and I am bringin' out my black apparel.

electric koolaid acid test (subject)

My roommate and I decided that we need to make some extra cash, and as I have not yet been contacted by Hot Dog on a Stick, I opted to go down a different avenue. I found an ad in "The Stranger," a local newspaper that targets the younger generation, that read something like this:

18-20 YEAR-OLD WOMEN CAN EARN $$$

Women of all ethnicities wanted for a study on social interactions between men and women.

Will be paid $10/hr up to $40.
Call Project WIN at (206) 685-3125 for more information and to determine eligibility.

So, I dialed the number and after answering a few questions, I "qualified" for their target research group. The lady made me an appointment for the following day and gave me directions.

The next day, I took the bus to the U-District (University of Washington area) and located the large, uncharacterized building. I took the elevator to the fourth floor and found Suite 441. A small plaque read, "PROJECT WIN". Next to the door was a doorbell and sign that said, "Ring doorbell for entrance." I did so, and within moments a younger lady answered the door and inquired, "Are you here for the 1:30 appointment?" I nervously said, "yes," and she continued, "My name is Kim and I will be your experimenter." She told me to take a seat while she gathered materials and other essential "experimenting" tools.

Within minutes she directed me into a very small, bare room with a big orange chair where I was to be seated. She began reading the instructions to me for the project and after I signed my name at the bottom of the disclaimer, she left me alone in the comatose room staring at a dull Dell. Hundreds of questions popped up asking me of my social habits regarding; ethnicity, sex, alcohol, friends, etc. When I was finished with the first section, I was instructed to "ring the bell." I did so, and the lady returned into my space of recycled office air and read me more instructions for the next part of the research. I completed three more segments similarly and then came the excitement...

I was told to completely engage myself as I read a "story" of a woman (supposedly, me) and a man, "Eddie." The story went on about how my friend, "Anita," hooked "Eddie" and me up. And after I noticed how I was drawn to his sense of humor, hotness, and other attractive features, we were left alone in a room. Things got a little "heated," and I was prompted to answer questions regarding things like my "arrousal status" on a scale of 1-6.

Click on the following links to read parts of the story: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 <--This is the best part, don't skip looking at these, they get better as the numbers increase!

I was also asked many other personal questions concerning my likely choices given that I was actually in the "hot" situation with "Eddie."

After enduring about two hours of silly, personal questions, I once again rang the bell and the "experimenter" returned with a checkbook. She wrote me a check for $25 and told me that I would receive a survey in the mail and upon completion, I would receive another $5! Haha.

So, that was the beginning of my career as a Professional Test Subject.

primary

Orientation is officially over. Softball try-outs are officially over. And so is summer. School begins tomorrow at 10 am for me. Woot, woot. Instead of thinking about all of the work and un-fun stuff that I must concentrate my mind on in the coming months, I'd rather muse over the past week... Saturday night, the school put on an "80s Dance." Upon first learning of the dance, I thought to myself, "Oh, how silly," and went into the "I'm-too-cool-for-that" mode. Well, after a little dorm spirit, I was convinced to attend. I rounded up my "Back to the Future" t shirt, put my hair in a side pony-tail, linked arms with my date (click here to see us), and entered the 80s dance atmosphere. We bumped to ABBA and "I Will Survive" by Gloria Gaynor, and other fabulous 80s songs that I'm proud to say I DON'T know the words to...

My roommate, the famous Suzy, is here and we enjoy our Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan. Oh, and the big news of the week...

I applied to "Hot Dog on a Stick." Haha! Yes! The silly people in food courts that wear wacky primary colored (red, yellow and blue), hideous uniforms! So far, I have only filled out the application. Hopefully, I will soon hear whether I "got the job" or not. Here are some of my favorite aspects of the application:

Have you ever visited one of our locations? Where? Describe your experience:
I have been to several "Hot Dog on a Stick"s. However, the one that I have most commmonly visited, was the one located in the Westlake Center. I enjoyed the colorful uniforms, theme and even colorful ATTITUDES of "Hot Dog on a Stick."

Why do you want to work at Hot Dog on a Stick™?
I think my attitude and strong work ethic would fit quite well at Hot Dog on a Stick. I enjoy working hard and serving the public (with a smile). I believe that I could give a lot to Hot Dog on a Stick and its customers.

The uniform is our special trademark. Describe its appeal and why you might be drawn to it:
I love the uniform! It seems so fun and even a bit silly. People who are having a bad day can't help but smile when they see someone in a bright, cheerful blue, yellow and red outfit. -That right there is enough to make me enjoy the uniform. I enjoy influencing people's days to be good ones.

walking, just walking

Today was the first day of try-outs for softball. It wasn't considered an "Official Practice," but instead, a "Captain's Practice." -The only difference was that it was cut two hours short (yeah, luckily, we didn't have to do the conditioning today). Tomorrow, on the other hand, WILL include the two hours of conditions, so it will be twice as long in the 70 degree sun! -Four hours of softball with intense pressure. There are four other girls walking on. Two are returning from last year (givin' it another go), one from California, one who hit THREE homeruns today and about four at the bottom of the fence (she's probably going to make the team), and myself... From Sitka, Alaska, where we play softball for less than three months of the year (in the cold rain). Anyway, I did alright today... Nothing special, but just fine.

The team seems about the calibur of our good friends at JDHS. Seattle U even wears RED AND BLACK! -I might feel kind of dirty if I have to wear those colors... If I DO make the team, I will get lots of super cool gear! All of the "returning scholarship players" have like twenty t-shirts (in multiple colors), pairs of sweatpants, shorts, shoes, sweatshirts, you-name-it, that say "Seattle University Redhawks Softball." -I mean, really, that's why I'm trying out... Its all about the "gear." Haha.

In the event that I DO NOT make the team, I will get a job, have a more luxurious social life, and probably gain the freshmen fifteen... So, either way, a Redhawk or not, there are options...

small town vs. big city

After much internet investigation and research, I decided to take the bus downtown today. The ride there was quick, and despite the general aura of filth, enjoyable. I anticipated all of the stores that decorate 5th avenue and the surrounding area. When the bus arrived on 5th, I jumped off, and excitedly began walking what I recall as "left." I walked, and walked and walked. I managed to cover about six blocks and pass about a hundred hobos, until I heard a some construction workers gathered around an open sewer cover say, "Oh, yeah, we've got a lot of waste down here... It looks like dumpage from a meth lab." I then realized that I was in the one place my parents warned me not to go near; The International District. The INTL Dist. is known to have the worst crimes and gangs... Woops.

Well, I spun around in mighty morph time and began walking the exact way I came from. About ten blocks later, and I was one of thousands of other shoppers! Albeit I was among so many, I still managed to detect a few familiar faces; Robby Teas, Corey Teas, and the infamous and supposedly missing/dead, MARIO KLANOTT. Well, folks he's alive and... Not well. Greg reminded me that Mario was the who, in elementary school, tried to convince us all that he fout in "'Nam" (Vietnam). He and some other groupies were all sitting on the corner, filthy from lack of proper hygeine, with grocery carts filled with their possessions.

1 of 1.3 million

I made it through the first two days, and one night at Seattle University. The dorms are quite empty; there are just a few people on each floor as school hasn't really begun (only select athletes are here). I have already managed to make a couple friends; Stephanie (from California) and "Kaha" (from Hawaii). Supposedly, Kaha is short for some big, long Hawaiian name meaning something about breasts. (FYI: Kaha is pronounced like "AHA!", but with a K at the beginning... Well, that's how I remember it anyway.) I am also aquainted with the rad softball players. -They are not what I expected. I expected BIG, burly hardcore girls. However, they are all semi-small, petite, and very, very preppy. After finding out that I was from Alaska, one girl inquired, "You mean, you can play softball in Alaska?" And then seconds later, another girl asked, "Don't you only get like three hours of daylight per day?" So, I am working on educating these people, one at a time, how Alaska really is. -Maybe some day we will not just be known as the strange Igloo Area "next" to California.

As for dorm life... Well, the showers suck. The shower head is about three inches too low, so I have to do this weird neck, body bend thing in order to rinse the shampoo out. Its kinda lame. And the water pressure is SO intense, I think I'm bruised. Oh well, I imagine some people like rough showers...

And for entertainment... Well, all I have to do is look out my window and down below in the evening there is a Asian girl doing Tae Kwan Do... Or Kung Fu... Or something of the like. She has a sword, and a gown, and everything. HERE IS THE VIDEO!

Well, as Casey DiGennaro once said (in a frightening voice), "College is EEEEVVVERRYYYYTHING and MOOOOORE."

coollege

The last group of former high schoolers are finally beginning new lives of their own... Some people are most likely doing wonderful, great things, some are probably just discovering every single different kind of alcohol that is available in this country, some are finding that they are horribly homesick, some aren't sure why exactly they went to college, some forgot they even left home, and some are probably doing absolutely nothing. But from the "some" that I have heard from, here's where they are, and what's new with them:

Who: Kaari Stockel
Location: Alexandria, Virginia (Pretty much Washington D.C.)
Status: Kaari is finding out that, as a white girl, she is a minority in the capital of the United States of America. Most of the people she sees from day to day are Asian, Hispanic, or African American.

Who: Clea Will
Location: James Madison University in Virginia
Status: Clea is currently enrolled in EIGHT classes. One of which I heard is called (in pronunciation format) "Oral Skills."

Who: George Wathen
Location: Fort Lewis College in Durango, Colorado
Status: George went running the other day, and "the altitude kicked his ass."

Who: Emily Blair
Location: University of Montana in Bozeman, Montana
Status: Emily is now a brunette.

Who: Brianne Hanson
Location: University of Alaska: Anchorage
Status: Brianne's roommate is from "Tatitlic." And apparently it really sounds like "ta-TIT-LICK."

Who: Hannah Hutton
Location: Dickinson College in Carlisle, Pennsylvania
Status: Hannah's favorite class is "Psychopathology." -Apparently because she can relate... Also, according to Hannah, "It is also becoming quite obvious that I am not "East coast" enough. While no one is mean, there is a definite distance between the traditional white, wealthy, popped collar girls and basically the West coast or international people."

Who: Danielle Cassedy
Location: Willamette University in Salem, Oregon
Status: Danielle is especially enjoying the train track that runs about 20 feet from her dorm... And also the treacherous sky bridge that she must cross to get from her dorm to the main campus. But other than that, she says "things are just wonderful."

Who: Jennifer Vallion
Location: University of Alaska: Anchorage
Status: Jennifer has been hearin' it all, up in the Northern part of our home state... She says that the walls are pretty thin in her dorm and she is well aware of her roommate and roommate's boyfriends' activities. Also, while she rode the shuttle, a crazy "black girl" from the basketball team said, "Hi, I'm Crystal. Don't mind my friend here. She's grumpy because her chlamydia just came back."

Who: Robyn Schlins
Location: Everett, Washington
Status: Robyn is still on crutches. (She attempted to learn how to skateboard before leaving Sitka.)

Who: Coral Pendall
Location: Bard College in New York
Status: Coral recently attended an "Underwear Only" party...

Who: Kristina Bidwell
Location: University of Alaska: Anchorage
Status: Kristina is taking a class called, "Introduction to Logic." -She is learning lots.

Who: Lauren Wild
Location: Brandeis University in Boston, Massachusetts
Status: Lauren is unreachable, but from what I hear she is "just being Lauren."

Who: Tawny Hoyt
Location: University of Montana in Bozeman
Status: Tawny needs to call me when she sees this because I have called her several times and her phone just rings, and rings, and rings, with no answering machine.

Alright, that's all I have folks... If you're sad because you don't have a personal update, well then you should have called me or something... But its never too late. Let me know what's up peoples...

la-la land

"Ugghh! This fire is never going to start! We need more kindling, and other dry stuff," Leah said as she and Lucas decided to explore deeper into the forest. The three of us were at Magic Island with the intent of making a fire and cooking some beef dogs. As they were back in the woods, I continued to hear the people at the nearest house yelling and exclaiming what sounded like drunken nonsense. Lucas seemed a little bit more aware of the noise, but I didn't think much of it. After they had collected more wood and we had managed to create a stronger flame, Lucas was staring down the beach and calmly said, "There's a bear on the beach." I reacted calmly, until the "drunken" hollers became more clear, "BEAR! HEY! BEAR! THERE'S A BEAR! WATCH OUT! BEAR!"

We panicked as we watched the bear creep back into the forest after tearing apart a couple fish and eating them. Under normal circumstances, any human that sees a bear moves away from the bear, out of harm's way, and lets it enjoy its nature. However, the trail that led to our escape (my Volvo), was in the same direction as the bear's path. So, we stood with our backs to the beach, scanning the woods, speaking of loud nonsense. We decided that we were better off enjoying our fire and being aware of our unexpected guest.

We continued to make lots of noise and Leah even cooked a hot dog. Within fifteen minutes, the "drunken" yells returned. They quickly caught our attention this time and we focused our eyes to the beach. The bear was again on the beach, this time twice as close. (If we had wanted, we could have walked towards the bear for less than a minute and been able to touch Mr. Bruin (assuming that it didn't move.)) Instead of allowing the bear to continue its search for food, I yelled, and hollered to make our presence undoubted. The people on the deck at the nearby house went silent as they were most likely setting bets on the fate of our lives. When my helpless yells finally caught the bear's attention, it sniffed the air briefly, and then mosied its way back up into the woods, where it seemed to remain for the rest of the evening... At about 10 pm when it was pitch black, we carefully, but loudly walked back to the car. Those are the kind of times that when its all over, and you're home, and laying in bed, you're thankful for the familiarity and safety of your warm, protected covers.

back to school

Alrighty, so its "Back to School" for all of you sweet high schoolers... Well, and even some of my comrades have already made it to college... So I have some advice. (Assuming that you have already hit up all of the sweet "Back to School" sales and over-indulged in buying gadzooks of pens, pencils, college-ruled paper, trendy clothes, and other super neccessary tools for LEARNING.)

Don't get a good night's sleep, or you'll be waaaay too alert during class. -Its only the first day, you've heard the same rules a hundred times.

Don't wear all of your "new clothes" on the first day. -How hokey is that? Wear your fave tee and jeans. Or wear nothing. Whatever you feel more comfortable in.

Don't bring a back pack with all of your supplies. All you really need is a couple pieces of paper, your schedule and a pencil. -Don't lose it. (You could just bring a Bible and try to convince all of your teachers that its "all you need.")

Bring an apple for all of your teachers.

NEVER LOAN OUT YOUR PENS OR PENCILS. YOU WILL NOT GET THEM BACK.
And charge for pieces of paper. Mom and Dad didn't buy you enough college-ruled paper to share with the whole entire school.

Don't take the bus. Avoid it at all causes. It stinks, its loud, and it takes forever. Call every single one of your neighbors to get a ride. Walk if you can. Bike if you want. Just don't ride the bus until you absolutely have to. -My freshmen year, I avoided the bus for TWO entire weeks.

Swap all the dry erase markers with permanent ones before class starts.

Don't eat school lunch. You wont make it through the day after eating a grease-piece of pizza, an ounce of milk, and a few wilting pieces of lettuce. Bring a sack lunch, plan on walking to McDonald's, or hitch a ride from some super-awesome person with a car.

Don't tell the teachers too much about yourself. -They might use it against you in the future.

Stand to ask questions and sing all of your questions, speak in rhymes, and snort when you laugh.

Take notes on all of the teacher's rules. If you disagree with any of them, be upfront from the beginning and protest them. Get the class to riot and change the rules.

Bring a barbecue, hot dogs and all the fixin's so you can have a BBQ at the end of the day! Make sure you submit an announcement for Mrs. Meecham to read that says, "And students, don't forget to stop by for a hot dog on your way out, cooked just for you by the janitor..."

Speaking of the janitor, be sure and to make really good friends with the janitor. It can really work to your advantage when you get yourself into a bit of a mess. -You never know when you might need a mop and bucket.

Whatever happens, just remember to smile. And if something really goes wrong, always have a piece of paper with, "CHECK YOUR FLY" written in huge letters on it to wave at your teacher.

Learn lots children!

god bless

The super-classy Fresh Fish van I drive for work has the ability to attract all types of people and the capacity to haul many things and beings; like large totes of fish, big boxes of frozen fish, and loads of people! I was driving out the road the other day, just about to pass Sea Mart when I saw four unfamiliar desperate souls with their thumbs stretched out in the road. They were obviously hitch hiking.

Everytime I see hitch hikers, I look at them, begin to slow down, swerve over a bit, get nervous and swerve back into the road and speed up. And then I look back and think, "Dang it, I should have just picked them up. They look harmless." But on this particular day, some alternative power convinced me to pull over right away and welcome then into my fine mobile of transportation. They climbed in after struggling with the front door, sliding door and back door that usually requires a crow bar to open and continuously thanked me for picking them up. I got the warm fuzzies and asked them where they were headed. "Oh, we're headed to the ferry terminal. Our ferry leaves at 1 pm."

It was presently 12:35. -They never would have made it to the ferry terminal in time. It must have been some higher power that created such a perfect coincidence. I asked the three girls and one guy where they were from and what they were doing in our neck of the woods. Their homes were scattered all over the U.S. and it turned out that they were on a Christian Mission! They were out to spread the word of God! At this point I had to purse my lips from gleaming a big sarcastic smile. They continued to tell me that they were on a mission to visit 50 states in 50 weeks and had 13 more states to go. Their next state would be Hawaii. Supposedly, they started on January 8th. Anyway, when we finally reached the ferry terminal, it was 12: 47 pm (lucky for them, walking never would have got them to the terminal in time).

They awkwardly climbed out of the big, ol' stinky van, thanked me, repeatedly murmered "God Bless" and handed me a business card that included their webpage in case I ever wanted to look them up at www.thewaveusa.com. I'm tellin' ya, the Fresh Fish van really knows how to pick up the keepers...

suga'daddy

"Hey, what kind of snacks do you girls like?" inquires Cap'n Jack.
"Well... Umm... Snickers? Doritos? Haha... Why?" replies Leah, honestly, but hesitantly.
Cap'n Jack smiles, "Alright girls, well, I'm gonna be the dock suga'daddy."
Our eyes bulge and we turn away giggling as we load up into the ghetto "Fresh Fish Company" van.

The next day, Jack asks us to stay a while, after the customers leave. We do so and moments later Jack comes out of his boat cabin with a five gigantic cookies and a bag of Doritos. "Only 'cause I'm yo sugar-daddy ladies," he says as he winks and hands the sweets over.

During this same day, Leah and I go to Napa for some steering fluid. After filling up my steering fluid container, I re-enter the large auto store to return the borrowed funnel. As I reach to open the door, the Napa man beats me to it and quickly asks, "Are you hungry?"
"Uhh... Not really. Why?" I respond with my tail between my legs.
"Well, I've got some hot dogs in the back if ya want," the Napa man with oil stained hands tells me.
"Oh, well, thanks, but I really just ate lunch..." I say in the most sincere way that I can without sounding completely creeped out.

Maybe I will run into more creepy guys in California this next week. I'm heading out on the 6 am flight tomorrow (7/28) to San Francisco. If you want a postcard, send me your address! I'll be back Tuesday afternoon (8/2).

where's waldo?

With the many visitors that my site entertains, I receive "site statistics" telling me the number of visitors, the url from which they linked from, what kind of system they use, and most interestingly, when they use a search engine, what "keywords" they typed... The word combinations that people type that refer them to my site are most interesting to me:

52.81% typed "jennifer vallion" and were linked to my web page.

19.75% typed "abby sparrowgrove"

8.32% typed "darcie seesz"

4.75% typed "old pictures of kayhi"

3.22% typed "napoleon dynamite t shirts give my your tots i'm starving"

2.95% typed "your mom goes to college explanation understand"

2.53% typed "megan violin mtv date my mom"

2.49% typed "sitka jo softball tournament"

1.63% typed "kaari myspace"

1.56% typed "tlingit jordan whitehorse drum"

Who knows who will find me next with one of their creepy searches...

albert, take it away

This summer is breezin' by. I have already had two radio shows. One was about a week ago, "The Good Day Show." Haha. I accidentally called it "The Good Show" on air, woops. I played rock for an hour. Yesterday, was my second show, "At the hop." I played a bunch of 50's and 60's diner music. -Awesome.

Other than that, holy cow, college is near! I will probably be leaving September 9th to go try-out for the softball team. I have found out what dorm I'm living in finally (Campion) and what floor (7th floor, all girls) and my roommate... We spoke briefly on the phone a couple times, and have exchanged a couple of messages on thefacebook.com.

Her name is Suzy St. George.
She lives just fifteen minutes from the school.
She is a sophomore.
She can't whistle or snap.
She is "quite possibly addicted to gum."
She doesn't like cake.
And she hates it when people talk on their cell phones in bathrooms.

Things that make her happy:
baking cookies
The Price is Right
smoothies
my big fuzzy slippers
disco music
peppermint lattes
Cosmopolitan
walking barefoot in grass in the summer
vh1 specials
the beach
red bull
making lists
grammar
palindromes
creative away messages
driving at night
mini-golfing
finding interesting things in pockets of clothing I haven't worn in a while
adventures
Hungry Hungry Hippos
Where's Waldo books
word jumbles
penguins
the number 11
the color red
black vw jettas
irish accents
my hair straightener
little kids
making mix CDs
the Sharper Image
guys with nice abs

She seems fun. -I'm not being sarcastic, I'm excited. Apparently, last year, she had a Japanese exchange student for a roommate last year and she spoke very little English, didn't like music or movies, and liked to lock herself in the room alone.

I hear from a couple of my other friends that they have rather interesting roommates... Emily's roommate is named "Skye Ariel Sailor." Might we say, "HIPPY"? And Hannah's roommate is from Africa. -Quite fitting. Yeah, college.

smiles, jesus, flares, and of course, fish

More dock stories. Because they're the best I've got this time of year.

One of our favorite captains down at the dock was unloading some fish, and sayin' goodbye to his passengers, when one of them said, "Smile!" while she held up her camera for a quick snap. The Cap'n smiled bigger and responded, "I'm always smilin', except when I'm not." This certain captain is a riot. He tells his clients, "Yeah, I might be an asshole, but I'm a damn, good fisherman," before and after each trip. The man holds his tongue for no one.

Speaking of watching language and such... Last week, a Christian tourship was in town. After an obvious boat load of Texas Jesus-Freaks offloaded from a boat, I blurted out in a very serious, flamboyant tone, "God Bless!"
Leah spun around and looked at me as if I had just announced that I was pregnant, and said, "WHAT!?" -I guess I'm just not the religious type, but the tourists didn't know any better.
As they continued to walk away, blessed and all, I continued, "May the Lord be with you."
Leah corrected me though. I guess that's from Star Wars, not Jesus. Woops.

In other news, I observed Drunk Jeff wearing flares.

An older couple approached us on the dock wishing to see a white king salmon. They inquired about our jobs and thought it to be especially humorous that we worked at "Fresh Fish" as opposed to "Old Fish." Yeah, not funny.
The man drilling us for information about fish kept doing a distracting cough-sniffle. After every couple words he'd force out this abnoxious stream of air, and then suck a big gulp of air back in through his noise. The couple was very concerned and interested in seeing a white king. They wanted to know where and how they could see/buy one and everything there was to know. I didn't know what to tell them...
"Well, they are a little more rare... A delicacy in some restaurants... Higher fat content... Yeah, exciting..."
They just couldn't let go of the idea of an albino king salmon. But finally, we shoved them aside, and picked up the tote of kings the man had been coughing over. Upon returning to the plant to weigh the fish, we realized that the very fish sitting, literally, right beneath the man's nose, was indeed, a white king salmon.

just ink

How often do you end up with a pen that isnt yours? Maybe after writing a check? After filling some paperwork out? Oh well, its just a pen. Right?

Oh no! Not to a lot of businesses! They find it necessary to attach large, plastic spoons to the ends of pens. Sometimes they attach straws that have been cut so that the ends look like hair. Sometimes the pens are tied down by pieces of string or small chains. Sometimes they attach pieces of paper that make little flags at the ends that have nasty messages like,

"STEAL THIS PEN AND HAVE BAD KARMA FOREVER!"
or
"Return this pen or else slimy night crawlers will take advantage of you endlessly." (Seriously, I saw it at a coffee shop down south...)

It seems pretty ridiculous how protective these people are of their pens. A box of decent pens must cost no more than $5. And I'm sure you get at least a dozen. -That is less than fifty cents per pen. However, right next to the cheap pens, they have pieces of candy that you can take as you please. So, if pens are seriously so inexpensive, and everyone ends up with someone else's pen occasionally, can't we all just sort of have an unspoken, unwritten tradition of a friendly, pen-exchange? It could be kind of like the "Take a penny. Leave a penny." -Except it'd be even less structured... It would just flow, like ink.

fools "walk"

Last night was the second annual "Only Fools Run at Midnight." At about 10:30, Hayley, Melissa and I signed up for competing in the 1 Mile Fun Walk. Afterward, we headed back to my place where we dressed up quite sexily...

Melissa was wearing a Carmen Miranda head piece (like the Chiquita Banana Lady), along with a mermaid skirt, and a gypsy scarf wrapped around her waist.

Hayley was wearing a ruffly, metallic-turquoise dress, big black boots with knee-high black and white striped socks, and a Mermaid wig and crown.

And I was wearing a wetsuit, a big yellow and black hat with spikes, a wacky-colored scarf, peace sign converse shoes, blue and white striped knee-high socks, and of course, an innertube!

We pulled up to the fire station where the race was to start, and hurried in the door. I had an especially hard time getting in the door, and finding a place where I would fit with my big innertube. However, the innertube worked much like a bumper, so it worked out. A man got up on a podium and began speaking muffled words, and soon thereafter, parts of the crowd began moving into a circle. The only thing to do was join into the circle, right? So we did. We began walking around the fire department in a big circle, with spectators on the outside. Melissa and Hayley had no idea what was going on, so they just nervously held onto my intertube while embarrassingly giggling. We kept circling, and circling, and circling while people laughed, pointed, stared, and snapped several photographs of our hideous apparel.

"Well, judges, what do you think?" said the man over the loud speaker.
"What we're being judged!?" I realized what was up. The Mermaid Princess and the Fruit Head just about lost it right then and there. But we continued to circle... Until finally, the walk began!

We began cruising down the road among many other strangely dressed individuals. Then people began jogging, and power walking. "What is going on!? I thought this was a FUN WALK. Not a competitive power walk/jog!" I began exclaiming. We literally had to run in order to keep up with the walkers! I didn't understand. The "1 Mile Fun Walk" was turning into a 2 mile competitive run! But we continued on... At one point, someone asked if they could store something on my innertube. How dare they! That would be like asking a fat lady if you could store something in her roll! When we finally ended up back at the fire department, an older, jolly man kept snapping pictures of the three of us.

Once everyone had finished the race/walk, we wandered inside where there was water and orange slices for refreshments. A man got back on the microphone, congratuled everyone, and began giving awards for different categories of costume. We were quite surprised, we figured there were awards, but even categories!? Wow. After I reached around my back and found that someone had left their empty water bottle on my innertube, we realized it was time to go. We left before the awards were over. Maybe we won something. Maybe we didn't. We were swimming in enough of our own personal glory (AKA: Laughter).

suspicious + fishy = suspishy

Well, I'm up to an entire $10 on the dock for tips this season. I'm sure the baristas make that in one hour... But oh well, yes, I'm jealous in a way, but moreso outraged.

However, despite my lacking extra pocket change, I do get to talk to some pretty interesting people.

Today, I noticed some aged men standing at the top of the dock, enjoying some beer and commented in a manly, completely-un-flirty-tone, "Umm, yeah, there are no open containers allowed on the dock."

They looked at me shocked at first, and then replied, "Oh really? Well, how about if I give you a closed container?"

I rolled my eyes and laughed, thinking, "Oh, silly old men."

Later, as Leah and I were off-loading some fish from a boat, one of the men came up from behind Leah and grabbed her shoulders, spun her around and said, "Hey! Its you again!"

They stood nearby as we carried the tote with both hands sort of helplessly, when one guy commented, "Hey, are you ticklish?"
-Creepy

Also, today, an awkward women with braces nervously completed the paperwork, making sure to ask all the right questions and get all of the proper information about the processing of her fish. I felt bad, but her braces were hilarious. The woman had to be at least 40, so everytime I looked at her, it kind of reminded me of the "MOLE" guy on Austin Powers. (Hey-BRACES! How are you-BRACES! So would you like your fish processed?-BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!) I didn't want her to know that I couldn't stop staring at her BRACES, but I kept thinking of things like:
"Hey, want me to BRACE you as you get off of the boat?"
or
"Wow, that's a really nice, BRACElet you are wearing."
or
"So when is the BRACE?"
or
"I think you need someone to emBRACE you."
or just...
"BRACES!"

fish in the tote, cash in the pocket

I've been pretty consumed by the tourists lately, whew. As many have probably observed, heard, or smelt, I am working at the Fresh Fish Company. My job is to wake up by 8 am so that I can check my email for the daily "list" of boats. I arrive at the Fisherman's Quay and enter the wet, fishy flaps of my workplace, sign in, put on plastic gloves and an apron and begin putting pieces of fish into bags. -Until someone radios in, "Fresh Fish, this is the [insert boat name]."

Then I tear off my apron and gloves, grab some totes and head down to the dock. There, I await boats captained by old men and filled with tourists to bump into the wooden docks and begin offloading. I approach them and begin, "Who has fish that they would like processed today?" A few of them usually raise a hand, and I hand them paper work and they begin filling it out. They ask me numerous questions, and heckle me about the process and fees.

"Yes, we fillet them... And put them into 1-2 person servings... And vaccuum pack them... And freeze them. And yes, you get YOUR fish back."

After they fill out my paperwork, all they can think about are their dear ol' salmon. They want a hundred pictures with the fish, so they throw all of their stuff in my arms, and have me snap pictures. They crinkle their noses and mouths as the salmon slime drips from their hands onto their perfect white shoes, and crisp, light blue jeans. But its ok, its part of the Alaskan experience, and besides, they can always go back to the ship and change.

After the fish are in the tote, and the paperwork is done, it is my job to pull the totes up the dock with a "hand-truck." Ali and I strive to make it an entire day where we do NOT spill a fish while going up the ramp.

My favorite tourist story this season was when I was attempting to help a woman off of a boat as I reached a hand out. She began to grab it, and then become angry!
"You're doing it wrong!"
"Umm... Ok?" I said, and just grabbed a little tighter.
"No! Grab my elbow."
"Umm... Ok?" I said again as I reached further up her arm.
"Uggh, no. You need to grab my elbow and properly support it so I do not fall. You always grab a person by the elbow when you help them up out of something. -Whether its a bed, or a chair, or whatever."
"Alright maam. Thanks for the advice," I said, hoping she was finished lecturing me.
"I'm a nurse. I know these kinds of things," she finished.

Yeah, see if I ever offer a lending hand again...

My tourist story of the day...
A Spanish man named Tito Tarabillo from Texas with pants pulled half way up his body. And his daughter who got gobs of fish blood on her pants.

size 7

The other day, I was fortunate enough to meet an 18-year-old guy, Dustin, from Orlando, Florida. Apparently, he was in town for fishing, but was kicked off his Uncle's boat because he broke the rules... His presence was unfamiliar; perfectly-trimmed, shaggy, blond hair, a tight, bright t-shirt, very, very tight, boot-cut jeans, and a huge pair of black skate shoes. I kept finding myself staring at his second layer of skin... Err... Jeans. He was poured into those things!

Finally, I commented, "Wow, those are some pretty snug pants. Not something you see very often around here on guys... What brand are they?"

He responded, "Element." "Oh, really?" I said, "I think there are pants just like those at the Cellar... Haha..."

"Yeah, probably because that's where I bought them!" He replied.

I was quite surprised, "What!? Are you serious? What size are they?" -I was unconvinced that this guy could seriously be wearing girls' jeans.

"These are a size 7, but sometimes I wear a 5."

"What? This isnt your first time buying tight-ass, girl's pants?"

"Naw, its pretty much all I wear. They're easier to skate in." At this point, I didn't even bother to hide my sneer and laughter. For, I had just met an 18-year-old guy who wore size 7 girls' pants... In Sitka. Hott.

barista babes

"Hey, Tiffany, I need a pink 'Poo,' and a 'mookie.'" -Yells Courtney behind the counter of the Highliner as she refers to a "Poo Bear" which is a cup of flavored steamed milk, and a mookie, which is a muffin/cookie.

Working along side Tiffany and Courtney are more "ee" sounds; Chelsea, Ashley, Becky and Darcie, most of which are blond and beautiful. It seems to be the new glamorous job to have. My mom tells me that in her younger day, the "babes" were Flight Attendants. (Obviously, the standard has been lowered since then. Being a flight attendant now, just requires big, poofy hair, and lots of hairspray and make-up.)

Their daily duties as baristas are quite simple, make coffee and look hot while doing it. Well, the latter part is not really a requirement. However, it is how many make large tips. -Which in fact bugs the poo bear out of me. I work down at the dock all day, rain or shine, hauling large totes of fish up the dock. But do I receive tips? No. Instead, my customers get off the boat, throw their fish at me after countless questions, and head over to the coffee shop and buy a $4 cup of coffee, and leave the perky-breasted, blond, airhead a $2 tip for her two-minutes of work.

Who started this trend of over-tipping baristas? I believe we ought to go on strike. No more tips for cute coffee girls. Its out of control... The other day, I was talking about my softball team, and I referred to Julia in front of a strange old man (33 years old) and rather than saying, "Oh, that great shortstop?", he said, "Oh, you mean that hot chick that makes coffee at Lakeside?"

Yeah, I am jealous of all you coffee gals, so don't expect a tip from me... I'll give you my change if it doesn't include any quarters or dollar bills.

the ship

Fifty-one years later... We bring home two state titles. Heck yes! Things got intense during our game against the Homer Mariners when the score was 3-2 (Sitka just barely ahead) and the rain storms began. We still won, however. Later that day, our games were postponed due to lightning and thunder. The boys' game against Homer was also pretty intense. The Sitka fan club was by far louder and prouder than the Mariners' fans throughout the last of the 14 innings. Everything about Sitka winning was an athlete's dream come true. And now, a fond memory.

As for non-athletic occurences...

Tommy Stonebreaker threw a rock at a squirrel and actually hit it and killed it. Tawny is still in possession of the squirrel tail (which "broke off").

Everyone donated lots of blood to Alaska's new state bird, the mosquito.

Syrup chugging contest forces Sean to up-chuck.

Umm... Other people can comment on things that stick out to them because my memory isnt the freshest.

its not really beginning to look a lot like christmas

I was cleaning out my desk today when I noticed an old article I wrote for the Pushka as a sophomore. It was written for the Christmas edition, and I know its not Christmas, but I just couldn't resist... So here are some reported gifts.

"During last year's band gift exchange, I received a voodoo doll and a tiara from a mystery person. Its ok though, I just torment them through the voodoo doll."-Clea Will

"I got a foot massager from my grandma. I was really disappointed when I first opened it, but then I realized it was actually pretty cool. It had those little moving people things sticking out... It made me feel good."-Manfred Bekeris

"During Christmas season I usually get lazy and start running out of money, so I just start giving people stuff from my room like used candles."-Kelsey Hagan

"Nate Mullins gave me a pound of roast beef. I'm a vegetarian."-Gretchen Stelzenmuller

"Last year I got my old basketball and a bunch of rocks wrapped up in a box. I asked my mom why she even bothered wrapping it. She said she wanted it to look like I had more presents."-Morgan Martin

"Marissa Stahla gave me a homemade candy choo-choo train. The train had Oreos for wheels and a lifesaver smoke stack. I thought it would make a good snack until she told me that she used Elmer's glue to hold it all together."-Laurel Eliason

"Every year my dad gets me the exact same thing for Christmas. Beef jerkey, socks and shampoo."-Robyn Schlins

"Someone gave me a big box of phone books and dictionaries. I was thinking it wasn't a gooder until I found a Rugrat's CD at the bottom of the box."-Joy Ribao

"My grandpa is a bit of a gardening fanatic. A couple years ago, our family received a pickle in a bottle from him. Supposedly, he had grown it himself."-Kaari Stockel

"My dad used to be the principal of Keet Gooshi Heen and sometimes he'd have to confiscate items from kids. He saved [all the confiscated items] until Christmas, wrapped them, and gave them to me. Usually, I got random things like knives, handcuffs, and one time, a skateboard!"-Hannah Hutton

"One year, I gave all of my friends anti-fungal cream."-Jesse Remund

"Last year I got giant granny underwear from some friends. I started to open them in front of my parents, but when I realized what was in the package, I ran to my room and hid the gift."-Jennifer Vallion

"My secret Santa gave me two bottles of men's cologne."-Jodie Totten

"I got these incredibly ugly, green and red, knee-high socks with Christmas trees and bells on them from my grandma."-Abby Sparrowgrove

"Grandmas really just shouldn't give gifts. A couple years ago, my grandma gave me a neon-green swimsuit with a padded bra and ruffle going across the stomach. She made me try it on and come out and model it for her. It came all the way down to my knees. My grandma just smiled and said, "Well, what do you think?" I looked at her with a fake smile and told her that it was very nice and thanked her."-Sarah Reynolds

"Jesse Hughey gave me a Fisher Price toy doctor's bag filled with peanuts and spam last year. No joke."-Sean Griffin

"A few years ago, I received ONE shoe filled with a bunch of scrunchies. It was from my grandma... We're a little worried about her..."-Cory Welsh

we made it

Welp, the Class of '05 is done. Graduated, and partied out.

Last night I went to "The Rock Concert." It was pretty bad-ass. I mean, I even knew the band members. Haha. It was pretty funny, among other things.

And now, summer has started, so let the games begin!

scooter rally

Someone planned a scooter and rollerblade meet-up at Kettleson Library last night. More than 30 of us met up there and sported our scooters and 'blades down Lincoln Street, and around, and around, and around the church. It was definitely a sight to be seen.

After workin' the downtown, we headed over to McDonald's where we all gathered at the Drive-Thru. We ended up ordering TWENTY-TWO pies! Yeah, they had to bake more, just for us.

With the great success of the First Annual Scooter Rally, I imagine more scooter/blade fun will follow... For those of you who missed out.

secret ingredients

The prevalence of water bottles lately strikes me. Especially Nalgene bottles. Most everyone owns one, and at least half of everyone seems to carry it everywhere. Its kind of weird because it seems that just within the past couple of years, water has become especially important. People are becoming more and more creative with the ways they carry their water; camel-packs, colored Nalgene bottles in all different sizes and shapes, metal water containers, and, well, recycled Aquafina, Dasani, True, etc. bottles. (Which, I should remind you, are not meant for multiple uses. -Therefore, after the first use, the plastic lining begins fallling apart and you end up consuming bits of plastic.)

Very recently, Aquafina and Dasani have come out with flavored water. To my knowledge, you can purchase, "lemon-lime," "berry," and well, that's all I can remember. But anyway, its basically just sparkling water with a fake, fruit flavor. Cool? Yeah, I suppose. I've had it a couple times, and its not bad. But the thing that gets me, is how it has 0 calories, 0 fat, 0 sodium, 0 everything! And to top it off, for the ingredients, it just reads:
Sparkling water, Natural flavors

Not too helpful. So if anyone figures out how they do that, I'd be interested in knowing. Until then, I will sip in confusion.

i am a stork

Sitka possesses great weather and I've really been enjoyin' it during softball practices... Especially when we're doing the "stork" drill. Haha. Ask me in person for a demonstration.

While driving home tonight, I noticed several couples out walking their dogs. Half of them were standing there, watching their dog peeing on something. Why is it ok for us to watch our animals do their duties? I actually think some people enjoy the show... Its weird.

we missed you ashley

Juneau played tough, and so did we, but not tough enough. They managed to beat the "bitches from Sitka," yet again. Haha. The games were good though. And we're still going to the 'ship in Fairbanks, and we're still undefeated for our division! Heck yeah.

oh my goth

Today I was browsing some random "myspace" profiles (which I recommend all youthful individuals to join) and I found a young, angry, gothic girl. In her profile she included a correction to common stereotypes...

Goths:

Don’t always wear black
Don’t worship Satan
Are NOT evil
Do not want to kill people
Do not hate everybody
Are not always depressed
Can be happy too
Are usually nice people
Are normal, just like you

HAHA! Then what the heck are they?

crazy lady spotting!

We saw GiGi, Gwendolyn, the Crazy Lady in Juneau! She still appeared to be her crazy self...

its time to "pop the tire" for real

This weekends games against Juneau were... well... There is really no adjective to describe them. A mix between intense/frustrating/awesome/yeah. The first game wasnt so great. We allowed them to "8-run-rule" us. -Whatever that means, haha. Its usually "ten-run-rule," but for whatever reason, Juneau decided to change the rule. So, the final score was 9-1.
In the second game, we played 'em a little tighter, but couldn't get any runs. The final score was 3-0. However, in the third game, we held 'em 0-0 up until the 6th inning, when we got a run, to make the score 0-1! We were up! We went out into the field, came back, and scored 2 more runs, 0-3, we were still up! Heck yeah, we were thinking. Lets beat Juneau on their home territory, for the first time. Well, in the final, seventh inning, Juneau pulled out their secret bats and ripped a few base hits to win the game, 4-3. Dang. We were so close.

Although we didn't win, we were still pretty good sports about it all... We left the field with a "maybe-next-time" attitude; nothing "bitchy." But for some reason... Someone else felt differently:

Holler?
Current mood: content
So we've already had 5 softball games and we are 5-0...go bears? haha yeah not so hard let me tell you. Today's game was questionable we played like shit, but thats okay because we still beat the BITCHES from Sitka! yeah thats what I thought. Wierd they talk shit and then we win. WEIRD...I had tiger balm on today because my arm was bothering me...and one girl was like "she smells" yeah well at least I don't suck mother fucker. And I'm sick so I'm not in a good mood to begin with....maybe i'll pitch tomorrow just so i can jack her up?...and Anyways I really don't like Sitka they've never been nice, and so why should we be nice to them? yeah good point. Anyways I have yet to hit a homerun this series but I got one against K-Town it was almost foul...that would have sucked. Anyway I just wanted to write in here b/c it's been a while....so Yeah I'm gonna "peace out" (ilea belcourt) Holler C-BeArS!!!

-This was pulled, directly, from Ashley Larson's blog. Pretty nice, eh?
And just an FYI, we never said she "smelt" like it was a bad thing. We only made note of her "tea-like" aroma...

the sniper

Last night Kaari and I were privelaged enough to receive a grand tour of the police station and a patrol vehicle. Wow, they have a lot of "gadgets." -Haha. Remember Inspector Gadget? Gosh, I loved that cartoon. Anyway, yeah, the police station. They have a sniper rifle! And AR-15s (Assault Rifles = for killing people). They have grenades that are supposed to stun and disorientate people so that they can do raids. Umm... Oh, and for all you speeders: The cops can actually get your speed via radar from ANY angle, passing you, going the same direction, when you are behind them, etc. We were also told that the radar can go pretty much as far as visibility allows. They gave us the example of a patrol vehicle checking speeds sitting across from Camille Skannes' in that little gravel turn around, to the corner of the Channel Club. -So, even if you immediately slow down, they've got you. Lets see... The men's jail has tv, but the women's doesn't. Lame. Yeah, they have got a lot of crap.

Welp, tomorrow I'm headed to Juneau for the game of softball. I'd love to win, but we'll see with all the dang drama that is taking place...

wig!

Reporting from Ketchikan:
Tawny, Natalia, Abby, and myself are housed out together in a big ol' log cabin. Rocky II is on (Natalia loves it, Tawny hates it), Abby is still asleep, and I'm doing what I love most, blogging.

Our housing situation is one of the better, but also one of the more interesting... Yesterday morning, I mentioned something about how I hate hair, and that I'd rather just not have it. Our "housing mom" interrupted, "Well, you could be like me and wear a wig. I just fluff it up every morning."
Aww... Poor ol' lady. Later on, she made her husband put the pizza in the oven because she "didn't want her hair to melt."
The family also has a very quiet Autistic son. However, we have been told to be cautious because he cannot tell the difference between guys and girls, so he may just walk in the bathroom while its occupied. -We were told not to be afraid...

As for softball, we played one game in the rain yesterday. We won, 5-12.

k-town bound

Sadly, I have missed out on a key opportunity to interview local Craig folk about Rachelle Waterman. -Since the Varsity didn't get to go to Prince of Wales this week. However, tomorrow, the teams are headed to Ketchikan. I'm about 97.85439% sure we'll win. -Mr. Langbauer taught me how to do that calculation in stats. Ok, he didn't really, but umm... Yeah.
I saw the deaf/mute man today. The poor man had wet his pants! He was wearing light grey sweats, so the gigantic wet spot running down his right leg was quite obvious. Poor guy...
Well, hopefully Ketchikan will be funfilled. And if I'm lucky, I get housed with someone who owns a computer that will allow me to update!
Have fun in Sunny Sitka by the Sea... without me.

done deal

I passed my senior board. I received a 3.8 out of 4. Yes. I am quite jovial. It was just Drew and I... Talkin' about our radio shows. We presented to Mr. Bovee, Mr. Parsons, an older man whom I do not know, Bobbi Daniels, and Mr. Holder (an MAT). It really wasn't so bad. I'm pretty sure that I was MORE nervous giving my speech to Ms. Will. -Reasoning obvious.
Oh, and I'm a star. Kaari, Emily's mom, and myself were pleasantly displayed on the front page of the newspaper, thanks to James Poulson.

parking for sale in sitka

Today we had wonderful, warm weather... And some people chose to take advantage of that situation, I suppose. A certain, very sweet, cute boy, whom most of us know, and respect, was being especially aware of the supply-demand aspect of the weather at Sandy Beach. To more fully understand the situation, click here.
-You wont regret it, this is GREAT.

anyone notice the full moon last night?

Holy smokes! -Ok, I think I finally just "got" that phrase. I mean, HOLY smokes. Wouldn't that be like saying "religious cigarettes"? -If that's the case, wow, that's a big deal. And it makes sense because people usually say holy smokes when they're caught off guard, or impressed, or... just being crazy I suppose.

It has been a very unfocused day for me. I should be concentrating hard on writing my senior speech and putting together my senior board. However, every fifteen minutes, something else is far more appealing. Earlier, I was actually energized to clean my room, but I couldn't because I need to gather my project stuff. Then I started making some headway, but received a message from someone I totally forgot even existed, so I lost concentration and allowed myself to wander myspace.com for several moments. Then I started typing my speech, but discovered that I was hungry. Then I realized I needed to find my senior project manual, but during my search, I found a stack of old pictures that I couldn't just throw aside and ignore, so I reminisced for a while. And finally, I've been sitting here, thinking about all this stuff, and just couldn't help, but blog!

Whew... that was breathless.
This weekend, I attended a couple bonfires, a carwash, and finally finished my senior project! (I learned how to have a radio show... Stay tuned.) I really wish we had a three-day-weekend.

me? a tv star?

So, MTV wants me to be on their show apparently... I received messages via myspace.com...
I also received a call from Kimi that can be viewed here.

Elaina-
My name is Kimi Kwock and I am a casting recruiter for mtv, I am currently casting for the second season of Date My Mom and was wondering if you might be interested in being on our show with your mom. Basically, you and your mom are a team and she tries to convince someone that you are the best catch, and if she can convince them to choose you over the other girls you win prize money, you won't have to go on any dates and there are no strings attached!
If you are interested, email me at kimi.kwock@mtvstaff.com

P.S. We would fly you and your mom out here to Los Angeles and put you up in a nice hotel if chosen to do the show, all on mtv's dime! You seem like a down to earth girl and you might add some substance to our crazy show!

And so I responded, and then she emailed me back…

Sweet! I am sooo glad you and your mom would be down to do our show! Here is what you are going to need to do... Fill out an application and make a video! So I will forward you a copy of the application as well as what should be included on the video! I am not at work this weekend, so I am going to have to email you from my personal email account, so if you get an email from kwockerspaniel@hotmail.com... that is me! So hopefully you and your mama can do this really fast and send it in as soon as possible... sooo we can get the two of you on the show!!!
-Kimi

Hey this is Kimi Kwock. I am forwarding you a copy of the application for you and your mom to fill out. Also, if you have the time, we would like you and your mom to make a short video, so we can show it to the producers. Then, if you could send us the video as soon as possible (maybe by the end of this week or by fri or sat? Or Monday?), that will be great! If you can't, no worries (just mail it as soon as possible)! I just found out that we only have 6 mom and daughter positions, and I want you and your mom to be one of them, so that is why I am asking for the video and app back soo soon! Here's what should be included in your video:

1. first and last name of you and your mom
2. age
3. Where you live
4. What you do for a living
5. Why should MTV pick you to be on the show
6. Most embarassing moment together7. Crazy adventure together8. What you guys bring to the competition
9. How will you be different from the other moms and daughters
10. Mom, how would you set the date up
11. Daughter, how can mom set you up on a date successfully 12. What are 3 questions you would ask your daughters potential dates

You will be sending the application and the video to:
MTV Networks
Attn: Matt Vener/Kimi Kwock
1655 26th Street
Santa Monica, CA 90404

Our DHL account # (so you won't have to pay for the sucky shipping bills): 217790380

Any questions, call me on my cell at any time: (808)291-2939
Have a great day!
Kimi

coming out of the closet (the brooms, that is)

POW and Ketchikan were swept away this weekend. We pretty much cleaned 'em of their athletic pride, sadly. All six games were Sitka-dominating, visitors-going down. By winning all the games this weekend, we have already qualified for state which will again, be in Fairbanks. This year, however, it will be a bit different. We will be competing in the small schools bracket. -Maybe we'll win in that case! We wont have to play Juneau, or any of the other big Anchorage schools. Ketchikan is probably the biggest school we will have to face, and we know we can smoke those salmon, hook, line and sinker.
Yay for softball.

'couve and other fun places

Seattle/Vancouver/Victoria was uber fun. We “learned lots” and had a really, really good time. The group was awesome. I don’t think we could’ve chosen a better group of people to travel with. Since so much fun stuff happened and I’ve been neglecting my blog for so long, I’m just going to highlight a few of the things I DO remember…

While waiting in line for our ferry (in vans) in Victoria, I decided it’d be a good idea to go to the bathroom and snack shop. Just as I was finishing… well… umm.. Doing my thing, an announcement came over a loud speaker above me saying, “All passengers of the Victoria Clipper, please return to your vehicles for loading.” So I finished up, washed my hands, and ran out the door. The cars were moving! I began running across a large parking lot full of moving vehicles. I weaved in between them, in search of our van! But no luck. It had already boarded. So there I stood, on a white line, with cars passing on either side of me, wondering what if I’d be left behind. I considered hopping in someone’s vehicle and just saying, “Drive on, and I’ll get out.” But instead, I just stood there. And then I saw a woman with a radio in uniform. I began darting across the lanes, dodging vehicles, until I reached her. I told her of my dilemma and she allowed me to board a special way. All was well…

Aboard the ferry, Emily, Kristina and I wandered the ship, exploring all of its little nooks and crannies. When we were tired out, and decided to take a seat, Kristina and I opted for the big, black, recliner “massage” chairs. We were happily sitting, looking out the window at the wide ocean, when we noted a strange sound. We couldn’t tell where it was coming from, or quite what it was saying. So we just kept looking around, eyebrows crunched in confusion. Kristina looked at me, “Do you hear that?”
“Yeah, I do, what is it?” I responded.
Just as I said that, I noticed that everyone else in the area was looking right at us. Then the sound became more clear, “Please insert coin. Please insert coin. Please insert coin.”
“Oh my gosh! it’s the chairs that we’re sitting in! They‘re talking to us!”
We quickly stood up and made a dash for it. Smooth.

Speaking of embarrassing… One night, while in Victoria, Emily and I ran downstairs of our hotel to get some sodas. On the way there, I noticed a young woman run across the hall from one room to the other, wearing a black and pink, lacy, matching bra and panties, with a cape and top hat.

And speaking of clothing… Even in Canada they have stupid, preppy sales people. I walked into American Eagle and girl came up to me, “Are you finding everything alright?”
“Yeah, just looking, thanks,” I replied. Geez, I hate it when they ask that. What’re you supposed to say, “Oh, no, I’m not. I’m looking for some jeans.” Or, “Oh, actually, where are the cute, itty-bitty, cheap, preppy, colorful clothes?” It gets so redundant.
Anyway, the sales girl continued, “So, you know about the promotion, right?”
“Umm… No, I guess I don’t,” I failed the AE test…
“Oh, well all shirts are BOGO. You know what that is, right?”I smirked and said, “No, actually, I don’t.”
“Oh, ok, well, its Buy One, Get One half off.”
“Oh, righto, I knew that…” Haha, no I didn’t! What a useless acronym.

To end the trip, on the airplane, I ended up sitting to a guy who was chewing tobacco, wearing a shirt that said, “I’m pierced in places that you’d love to lick.”