bears love kids with honey on their heads!

So my dad started a blog. It's great, really! I didn't know he had such great writing skillz... Anyway, he has one of those music things on it and when I entered his blog Dean Martin started singing "On an evening in Roma." As I am sure it is the same for all of you, hearing certain music brings back strong memories and feelings of what ever the situation or time was when I had listened to it. Ok, that sentence was horrible, but you get what I mean (hopefully).

Over the summer I lived in Wyoming and worked at this small resort called The Hatchet. It was located about an hour north of Jackson Hole (and any grocery store and lets face it- most civilization) in the county of Moran. Yeah, I didn't actually live in a "town" because it was so rural. Which was kind of good, because I lived in some of the most beautiful country. Our apartment was smack dab in the middle of a mountain side. I actually saw a black bear off the side of this dirt road a couple miles away from the apartment once. He was cool, just stood there waiting for me to go pet him or slap some honey my head. Luckly I didn't have time to do so because I was running late for work and forgot my honey.

No, I didn't get a picture of Mr. Bear, but the Mr. Buffalo(s) were kind enough to pose for me :)

So this was the first time I had really lived away from home. Lets just say I got a little home sick :P Thank goodness my friend Becca joined me a month into the summer. I really don't know what I would have done without her! The only thing we had for entertainment at the apartment (beside books and each other) was her lap-top (free of internet), the 1st and 2nd season of F-Troop, and the entire collection of the Dean Martin Variety Show.

The nights I didn't work or go into Jackson (which was usually Sunday) we'd pop in good ol' Dean-o. He was like comfort food, yum! F-Troop is pretty hip-hoppity too, if you catch my drift. I don't really know what that drift is, but I liked it. And I like Becca who, by the way is in Hawaii(!?) on a mission!

Whoa!? I'm not sure exactly how this picture got here . . . ahem . . . er . . . next! (tee hee!)

That's better :) The lovely Becca Sue Jeppsen and Me on a freaking amazing horse ride. We made it to the top - but not entirely free of harm. I lost hold of Dancers reins once and he trotted (at quite a good speed, mind you!) into an ample course of large trees. The crew was amazed I stayed on the horse because I broke off quite a few colossal branches with my body. Yeah, it hurt real bad, but I survied that near-death experience and learned I have a body of steel. Watch out, foo!

Whelp, I've got nothing else for ya. That's all folks!

Oh, P.S. I cut 6 inches off my hair... woot!

Booty Shakin' Grandma and a Steel Guitar

Recently my grandma has been in and out of the hospital for various reasons but she is doing much better now, thankfully. But amidst all these sicknesses, surgeries and hospital stays, she has lost a whopping 37 lbs. Yeah, that's a lot!! She looks good, and she says she feels good too. Yesterday I went home and visited her and Donald for a little while and the very first thing my grandma did when she saw me was lifted up her shirt enough so I could see her very own and brand new jeans with pockets! In all my grandmothers pant wearing years, she has never owned a pair that had actually pockets! She put her hands in front pockets and said "See, I have pockets like you!" and then she turned around and shook her bottom. Tee Hee! It was the cutest thing I've seen in a while.

I don't know if her new found youth has come from losing so much weight, or from recently getting re-married (at age 80!) but I like it!

Here's some pictures for ya

Yes, that would be my 80 year old grandma doing a booty dance. She makes me happy :)

The next adventure at grandmas house was listening to Donald play the steel guitar. I asked him to play a song because I've heard so much about it. 5 songs later he took a bow. He really is good, though! I was impressed with his ability to play all these old westerns without looking at music. My grandma just sits back and quitely sings along.

Donald, jamming away on the steel guitar.

I didn't know what a steel guitar looked like till yesterday, so here it is folks!

*La la la luuuuke, I am your faaaather

My sister sent me an email today and this is what it said...

"Aaaaaaaaallllllllllllllll, you should blooooooogggggggg again, it’s getting boringgggggggggggggg when you don’t post something newwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww"

Sorry

Sunday was Nat's 21st b-day. We partied hard, and drank even harder...ok, or maybe we didn't (we're about as Mormon as they come thank goodness!) So instead there's this game that we play among my friends that dates way back to hike skool days - I know, I know soooo long ago... It's called the Key game and we decided to bust out our key-gaming skills once again. It's pretty much the funnest ever. You may have played it, so I'm not going to explain (because I'm too lazy), and if you haven't played, then I'm sure you can figure it out from the following pictures...

The mad dash after the keys are dropped to find a seat. Check out my horizontal action going on... and no, that's not my underwear, it's an undershirt.

Jess knew the minute I climbed up on the chair she was doomed.

And yet, another mad dash... love it!!

Ok, so this was one of the funniest things ever seeing Landon give Stew a piggy back. No, this game is not at all awkward...

Pretty sure Landon is holding Jess up with one hand. And Stew looks a little uncomforable, nevertheless, this game is hillarious and you all should play :)

And a little off-topic... My roommate Jessie's and my vocabulary has become a little unnatural. We abbreviate a lot of words and lately it's become quite shm-esque (this is where "shm" is added to many words. For example, vocabulary would be shmocabulary, and dog would be shmog...you get the picture). I was talking about an upcoming vacation I will be taking and she asked if I was exicted. Without prior thought to my response I answered, "Uh huh, I'm ex-so-shmited!"

life is good :)

*The title of this blog obviously has nothing to do with the content, but I wasn't creative enough to think of anything to go with what I wrote about and I wanted something to draw you all in... it worked, yeah?

You can call me Al

"If you'll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you betty
and betty when you call me
you can call me al
call me al"

I'm not exactly sure what it is about Paul Simon's music, but when I hear it, it puts me in a good mood. I feel all nostalgic inside when I listen to this album specifically. It's one of those Saturday morning albums that my dad would play really loud when we'd do our chores. Now, don't get me wrong, the *memory of Saturday morning chores is not what makes me feel fuzzy inside, it just reminds me of my Dad in a(usually)good mood. And I like my dad.

Yesterday I was visiting my home (it was laundry day), and my good ol' pops walked in. "Hi Dad," I said.

"Hi Smelly Head."

I didn't shower that day. He's good.

But that's not important...what I wanted to say is that I feel like we kind of have an unspoken understanding of each other. We find the same things funny and it's enduring to call each other silly names (like smelly head). And he will always laugh at me when I tell a joke or do something dorky - or at least he pretends to appreciate my humor. When I was living at home, I would go upstairs after work and talk to my dad. Just about anything. I really respect his opinion, and I'm glad he will share it with me once in a while.

So, Dads are good, and you can call me Al. But I probably won't call you Betty...

* Since I have moved out, Saturday morning chores are merely a memory now.

Hey kid, want some candy? Why yes, sir, I do!

When I started this blog I didn't think I was going to actually continue it. It was one of those, "It's late, I don't want to go to bed, and I'm tired of blogstalking my sisters friends" sort of thing (there I admit it, I'm creepy). I have been hesitant to mainain a real blog because I don't really know how or what to blog about. I was talking to my sister the other day (who regulates an excellent blog) about my concerns and she told me about this book that was recommened to her that is a "blogging for dummies" kind of thing. There's a book on this?? How about I just say what's on my mind and not worry about what people may think a good blog is.

That's where I run into a road block. I wouldn't say it's entirely like me to just open up and spill my guts. First of all, it's sort of been a struggle of mine to express my thoughts, feelings - anything - to people coherently. My words often tend to jumble into a mumble and more often than not I just flat out don't have words to say. But I do believe weaknesses can become strenghts, and that why we're here, to make them better, yeah? So I've been trying this "thing" that goes like this: Just talk to people, it's not that hard. Especially people I don't know too well. I was always kind of afraid of talking to strangers, and I thought if I would, I wouldn't be able to open up very well.

Not true.

I have realized I don't seem to have too many reservations about the things I tell complete strangers (don't worry mom, I don't tell anyone anything that could endanger myself). Let's take Barbara, for example. She is my 831 bus driver to UVSC. It takes a good 40-50 minutes to ride to school depending on the time of day and/or stupid drivers, so we have had a lot of time to talk. We have shared a lot about our families, the church, our views on politics, etc. Our converstations have gone pretty deep. I guess you could say she's not really a stranger anymore. But I have gotten in a few good converstations with people I've only seen once. Maybe that's why I'm so open - I don't worry about them passing judgment because I know I probably wont ever see them again.

I have been in a personal bubble way too long, I'm bursting free, and it's liberating!

Yup, UTA does an awkward person good. It's best to sit up front where the seats face each other. That often times uncomfortable eye contact that happens because it's human nature to want to observe another entity can turn into a light (or sometimes deep) conversation. You can take a small glimps into another persons life, doing this makes me happy because people are just plain cool.

Wow, where was I getting with this?

Oh yes, "back to life, back to reality." I'm going to try not to worry about what people think (all 4 of you)and just let my typing fingers go, (as I have done so generously in this post!)

Well, good night!

Zanzibar Buck-Buck McFate

Over the past while, I've taken a liking to childrens books. Particularly Mr. Men books. But thanks to my good friend and roommate Jessie, I've discovered one of my favorites yet... Too Many Daves. This book is about a woman with 23 sons who she all named Dave. But the adventure doesn't end there!! Mrs. McCave proceeds to list all the names she would have bequeathed upon her 23 sons if she was thinking more clearly (because when baby #16 popped out she obviously wasn't). Some of the names included in said book are, Biffalo Buff, Soggy Muff, Weepy Weed, Paris Garters, Marvin O'Gravel Balloon Face, and one of my all time favorites, Zanzibar Buck-Buck McFate.

I'm not entirely sure why I find so much fullfillment out said book. One reason could be because I enjoy silly names and this book is full of them. 23 to be exact. Or it could be the fact that this book is only 3 pages long.

No matter the reason, this book finds a place in my heart, and I have concluded Dr. Suess and I would have gotten along great. Additionally, I have decided that my blog needs a real name. A strong name, a noble name. Thus we have the re-birth of this blog as I bestow upon Him (my blog is now a he) the name of Zanzibar Buck-Buck McFate. Thank you Dr. Seuss.

Amen.

I really want to do the hand-jive right now, but I don't remember how and I don't feel like watching Grease to find out.

"Blogging is for old folks -you know, like for married people." That's what I've been told. However, I am neither old, nor married. But perflaps opeing a blog will catalyze my inclination for getting married. Don't worry people, I'm not a typical BYU female student who has conceived some conventional story of mr. prince charming sweeping me off my feet. First of all, I go to UVSC. Second of all, my fairy-tale story involves a Junior Bacon Cheeseburger (not conventional).

Nevermind that nonsences. I guess what I'm really tying to say is that I'm going to give this blog thing a whirl and see what happens.