Depthy Depp

I don't understand Johnny Depp he's just so... so...

.

but then he's like...

and you're like but I thought you were like...

.

And then he goes along and does this...

and then this...

But then he's all like...

.

And you're like who are you?

P.S. Sorry for the corny title. My brain still isn't working right.

Hello

Hi there.
I feel like I've been neglecting you. The last time I came on I posted about Tai Shan Pandas. Um, yes. So I decided to come on and tell you hello again. But I do have somewhat of an excuse. School. Pep band. School. I'm telling you for some reason they feel like they need my time. The nerve.

Also Christmas is coming! We have our christmas tree, we've put the lights on and dad has already started putting on the mandatory recorded fireplace on TV.

AND the best news of all...

Marissa. Is. Coming.

I'm kinda sorta excited. The last time she came home from Provo she brought a crane leg basket with her. I'll leave you to decipher this for yourself. Anyway, I'm really, really, really, really excited. This Christmas is going to be ridiculously, bongdingdongulously wonderful.

As far as other news my dad got an iphone5. As far as other news go my dad's iphone5 now has at least 10 megabites (whatever that means) full of pictures and videos of my feet and the back of his head. Hehe. He still doesn't knows.

Anyway, I'm so glad we've had this chat.

Sincerely,

Elle

P.S.

Tai Shan - Pandas - explore

Tai Shan - Pandas - explore

Check it out. If you share or like you'll be donating a dollar.

OPERATION: Summer

Guys, it's here. Everything is pointing to it. My family has gone to every movie we can get our hands on. Even Snow White and the Huntsman. And yes, we even busted out our scrabble set. That's how you know it's summer. We've been strolling through Waikiki. We even ate out at Roy's. Which means half of our summer budget is gone. All I can say about it is

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

                                                                   It's that good.
We've also been enjoying the beach. Sunset, Three Tables, Shark's Cove, Waikiki our family's hit them all. Last night we jammed into our car (Mocha is not the most space conscious of dogs) and made our way to Hale'iwa. We wandered to an almost empty beach. It was probably one of the most wonderful evenings I've had all summer.  My dad and I plied on our snorkels, squeezed on our fins and began snorkeling... until Mocha decided she wanted to snorkel too. I won't talk about it too much... it was very emotional. I kept on getting her almost to shore before she would turn back and swim (if swim's the word to use it was more like water galloping) to my dad. It involved me screaming Mocha quite a few times. When we finally got her back to the beach and to my mom and sister my dad and I had a quite an adventurous snorkel. We swam right next to the biggest turtle either of us had ever seen before heading further out and encountering an eel. It was quite large and was giving us pretty clear signals to get off it's property. I was only too happy to comply. Eels have always reminded me of the grumpy neighbor I've never had. Come on, don't tell me you've never had the grumpy neighbor daydreams! Mine usually involve a retired cowboy with no teeth, plenty of whiskers, and a faithful shotgun lying by his side.
 Annnnnyyyyywwwwwhhhhhoooo.
Moral of the story is that snorkeling was amazing. The reef was colorful, and the visibility wonderful once you got out. We headed back to the beach where mom and Deane were reading books. We ordered a take out for a restaurant nearby via phone and enjoyed the sunset while my dad picked it up. And it was amazing. If you ever come to Hawai'i you need to pick yourself up and sprint to Hale'iwa Eats. It's not as good as Roy's but less expensive and very fun.

                                                               Just listen to the girl.

We found ourselves a blue picnic table by the ocean picked up our chopsticks and ate their Ginger Salad, Shrimp with Peanut Sauce and Rice, Shrimp Pad Thai, and a Green Curry we're saving for today's lunch. We had a wonderful time talking and eating and watching the sun slip away.

By the way have a wonderful Independence Day. Watch Where Eagles Dare, drink Rootbeer, and watch fireworks. It truly is a blessing to live in a free country!

A Day in which I do Horrible Things Like Stay Home From School and Eat Frozen Yogurt

I have allergies.

Hah! You thought I was excuse-less didn't you! An excuse for staying home and reading books and eating yogurt.

This yogurt.
It is clinically proven that Ono Yo's frozen yogurt destroys the allergy cells, which causes your throat itch pretty bad, which causes you to stay home from school.

Just joking. But it is good for your soul.

Despite what you may think I did do something that qualifies me for staying home. At 11:00 my mom and I made our way to the doctor's office where I sat on a doctor-office-green chair reading the Smithsonian while giving extremely strong mind messages to whoever would be treating me to not give me a shot. And, when the nurse came and brought us into the wall-papered doctor's private office, I gave extremely strong mind messages there. My temperature was taken, I aaaawwwweeeed for the wooden stick holding my tongue down, and then it came. 

"Did we already check for mono last time?"

I assured the nurse that yes, yes we did. 

"I think we better do it again. Sorry about that."

Do not ever believe the books that tell you that mind messages work. Those things are liars. 

If the doctor's office was not associated with gleaming sharp things going in my skin and medicine being diagnosed that tasted like the pink color it was I think I would like it. There's always faint music escaping from under the door of the- I don't know what to call it, the place doctors and nurses go when they're not treating patients place. This time it was swing music with trumpets hooting and saxophones yawning. As I contemplated the fact that soon a needle would be in my skin one of the nurses sang to the music,

"Why, why, why, whyyyy?" 

Do you think the doctor's office believes in irony? 

Also, the most important reason I like it are the people. Most of them I've known my whole life. They've always been wonderful to me. When I was little they littered me with multi-colored stickers. Now they ask what grade I'm in, do I like my classes, and laugh with me. They also gave me my stitches from the time I had to get a mole removed and they heard it was the first stitches in our family. What I'm trying to say is they're fantastic people.

The good news was that testing for mono does not mean prolonged blood draws like I was envisioning.

The bad news is it does mean finger pricking. 

The good news is that, apparently I'm not nearly as bad as I used to be taking shots. 

The bad news is that this simply means that I do not cry or shout at the top of my lungs anymore. 

The good news is that I don't have mono, I don't have strep, and I don't even have cancer. 

The bad news is that I seem to be allergic to dust.

After this my mom and I went to get yogurt.

What? You feel like I can't stop talking about frozen yogurt? Why in the world would you ever come to that conclusion? Let me know when you come up with an answer.

As I was saying, after this my mom and I went to get yogurt. Which happens to be right across from my school. Which made me feel slightly guilty. I felt like I was betraying my classmates by dipping my purple spoon in that raspberry frozen yogurt. Somehow I was able to forget most of my guilt as I licked the spoon. Because school was almost out I didn't go to my last period even though I didn't have strep, or mono, or cancer. I did go to writer's club. And no, classmates that saw me walking through town after I didn't go to school I was not skipping. I was just staying home from school doing horrible things like reading books and eating frozen yogurt. 

Clinically proven frozen yogurt, mind you.

Poeticness

            I apoligize in advance. I am feeling poetic. If you are confused by this term let me clarify. I'll ramble about the skies color for a few unchecked sentences and then, feeling satisfied with my proper dramafication of the cosmos, tell you about my very uneventful and unpoetic day (the sky by the way is a timid blue with deep, set clouds).
Or maybe I won't. After all, I'm feeling poetic I might do anything.
Or I might, just maybe, go against my standards and actually stick to the subject which I put next to the demanding Title and angry semi-colon. I make no promises.

I once decided that I'd like to learn a poem for every moment. A poem for when I looked at the cloud whispering mountains outside of our kitchen window, a poem for sunny days, a poem for stormy nights. I have memorized a few poems amongst them this poem by Jack Prelutsky.

Never, never disagree
with a shark,
beneath the sea,
lest you feel a sudden crunch,
and discover you are lunch.

I'm so glad that I have a poem for that type of situation.
My favorite poet is Pablo Neruda, although I do love Jack Prelutsky and his whimsical rhymes. But with Pablo Neruda I feel like words are delicacies to be spoken in a rich whisper of a voice. This poem, In the Wave Strike Over Unquiet Stones, makes my heart soar. And for a dramatic affect listen to this as you read:

In the wave-strike over unquiet stones the brightness bursts and bears the rose and the ring of water contracts to a cluster to one drop of azure brine that falls. O magnolia radiance breaking in spume, magnetic voyager whose death flowers and returns, eternal, to being and nothingness: shattered brine, dazzling leap of the ocean. Merged, you and I, my love, seal the silence while the sea destroys its continual forms, collapses its turrets of wildness and whiteness, because in the weft of those unseen garments of headlong water, and perpetual sand, we bear the sole, relentless tenderness Poetry is beauty scattered among syllables. And cellos.

Of Robin Hood and Burnt Pizza

NOTE: The following happened two days ago.

           It is my parent’s anniversary today. I went off to school with the knowledge that when I would turn into our driveway and hop off my bike looking like a sweaty Tomato… with brown hair they would be on a date. However, when I did hop off my bike after a very normal day of school our unwashed white car was still in the driveway. They were deciding on which restaurant to go to. They decided on Le Bistro (this was decided immediately after my mom heard rustic used as an adjective). With a frozen pepperoni sausage pizza in the freezer and Netflix a comfortable click away they left. I ended up watching Mao’s Last Dancer. And yes, I did trot around the house doing “ballet” (which means swirling in crooked circles and attempting to point my toes while opening the fridge for an apple). Although I loved oooohhhhing at the ballet shown I was rather disappointed in the movie itself. I had high expectations that were not exactly gratified. Halfway between the movie my sister called and as I talked and laughed with her as I put the Pizza in the oven. Some things the world should know about Dean and I are:

We are both obsessed with Doctor Who.

We are both made fun of our obsession with Doctor Who by my dad.

We are five years a part.

We both have inside jokes with our friends having to do with bubbles.

She once convinced me that when I was little I had a shark tooth.

We both love singing and constantly did it while washing the dishes.

We are best friends.

We talked for about thirty minutes before she had to do yoga and I had to go make a discovery: I had left the pizza in for thirty minutes. Throughout our conversation the thought had occurred to me that it was a long twelve minutes (I had set the timer for this time) but I assured myself that the timer was set and the buzzer would ring any second. Well I had set the timer, but for twelve hours. My pizza was a little burnt. Correction, my pizza was a lot burnt. Something everyone should know about me:

I’m really good at burning things.

Still, the pizza was OK. The Pepperoni was not black and the cheese not charred. So I ate it while I skimmed through the last bit of Mao’s Last Dancer and ate some more while I started BBC’s version of Robin Hood. I actually kind of like it. I actually very much like Much. He and his multi-colored sweater crack me up every five minutes. Anyway, that’s it for now.