Domestic is the holiday game

When did I cross the thresh-hold to adulthood? Some would say at the age of 18, with the freedom of moving out, college and voting.  My parents would say when I turned 20 and landed a "real" job and purchased a car.  A few choice friends of mine would suggest 21, when you can enter ritzy clubs and purchase anything off the menu. 
I say nay; the day of adulthood started this month. When my Christmas list contains more practical and domestic things than anything else on the list. To show you in detail. This is my Christmas list condensed to the things I want the most.

-hand-mixer
-rolling pin
-measuring spoons
-IKEA pillow
-towels
-fitted sheet (for my pillow top--on both sides)
-Avatar
-toaster
-Inception
-Taken
-Crusader
-Shade's Children
-Gargoyles
-large flat frying pan (I'm not even sure about the proper name)

So there it is. My domestic Christmas dreams. In a cute little list that is a demonstration of growing up.

Falling for my view

Fall is my favorite time of year. Halloween, pumpkins, acceptable temperatures and slightly cloudy days. My favorite part of fall is the leaves changing. I usually take time to hit up the mountains for a little stroll through the fallen leaves. The feel of the crunching leaves beneath my feet and the cold through my sweater. This year, that sounds pretty awkward and I can't seem to find time during the day. I looked out the window today and was super surprised to see this gorgeous view. Almost every changing leaf color in one solid view. I hope my heaven has fall leaves out every window with reds, oranges, fading green and yellow. Where the wind drifts the leaves, but never rests them on the ground. The heaven will have some leaves already on the ground that never grow soggy or rot, that crunching noise forever retained and echoed outside my window. There's something so soothing about fall.

Memories of Y

A couple of weeks ago, I ventured out of familiar territory to an old friend/foe. The "Y" on the mountain has always been some sort of beacon, a keypoint on the map to Grandma's house or family gatherings.
I sat by myself on this recent journey, in the back of my parents blue Durango. I stared at that "Y", remembering....
Mark and I as children, arguing vehemently in the back seat about some cartoon or music principle. Mom would interrupt us loudly, cutting off our argument, "I see the 'Y', who else can see it."
Silence would take over while our child-enhanced vision searched the mountains for that important point of the journey.
Upon finding it, the argument always continued with a new subject; who saw it first.  I saw it first recently, no argument there. My parents didn't have to point it out and it makes me miss childhood. How little things like the "Y" on the mountain could bring me a sense of satisfaction.  Adulthood is so complicated.

Laces Out

I love football season. As a University of Utah alumni, I follow my running Utes with a fervor and religion that none can match.  I am also Cowboy fan by default (or my roommate would like destroy me).  I also joined a league in my neighborhood that plays on Wednesdays and a bunch of friends play on Thursdays. Today I caught a good pass and ran a touchdown. I scored my first touchdown of my life. It was magical.  A few of the guys congratulated me, including the football savvy John.  So maybe I can make that my job, running touchdowns? lol. I brought a little love for my Utes up there from the game against UNLV, a fantastic run! Love my Utes!

Handle with Chopsticks

Today just got way better.

Today was pretty much garbage filled with a long checklist smelly rotting garbage. It was a day that called for more than my usual Pearl Jam station on Pandora or even a Diet Coke with Lime.  It took the lovely tastes of Sushi, specifically a Philadelphia and California roll... Woot!

and a Three hour tour

It's a day like every day. My mouth spits out a sigh while my body lunges out of bed. I don my typical business attire and glare in the mirror. I may look the part but I don't feel the part
I feel as though I have had more interviews than Barbara Walters, without any visible emotional damage. Such is the life of a new graduate. Interviews and applications squared and maybe multipled to the hundredth power.
Professional is a goal I threw out a long time ago. Interviewers don't want to hear me list everything in a perfect, precise data way.  My interviews are fun now, for an hour I feel like I connect and laugh with someone.  I know they won't call me, but that's okay for now.
Then I get home, take off the happy mask and feel exhaustion to the fullest. One can't perform like this solidly unless you really are Barbara Walters.
She gets something from her interviews, whether it's an emotional explosion from the president or a hefty check from network; her job is rewarding.
My job is interviews and I'm not getting paid with dollar signs and numbers. I'm not even getting paid in emotional trauma from the other person.
Today's interview was over 3 1/2 hours long. It's not a job I want or even think about. The hours and the position sucks, but frankly, I'm tired of worrying. I'm tired of being Barbara...

Discovery Channel's faded cami

Their camouflage glows a dull green in night vision cameras.  Different men from different states have clear eyes when they talk about the training.  Their eyes don't show any pain or fear, but vomit still sticks to their lips and their muscles shake with fatigue.  SFC. Wilson nods his square shaped nose to the pool as a fellow squad member voluntarily removes himself from the program.
The instructors show both sides to the camera. Their tattoos stick out underneath dark labeled shirts while they talk about the squad with frustration and expectation.
I'm talking military here: Marines, Army, Air Force, Navy, you know them all. My little brother joined the Marine Corp. last year and it sparked my interest in the military and the men and women behind the camouflage and straight laced uniforms. Discovery Channel opens minds to the training and the people behind the forces protecting our country. "Surviving the Cut" rocks my socks and delivers hope in the strength and power of the United States. This show made my day and will every week. Thank you military!