Spinning Dream

"If this is what it takes, just to lie with my mistakes."

"Your afraid to find out all this hope you had sent into the sky, by now had crashed"

Pandora

My days have an odd habit of mixing together lately. Evenings spent in the darkened video room with monitors and buttons and my days spent sleeping. It's monotonous, boring and kind of lonely.  If you don't count text messages and a quick 'hello' at work, I don't interact with people. 

I crave attention and some sort of recognition for work and other things I do in life. I'm restless. On nights when I sit in this non-ergonomic chair in front of monitors, I think of dreams and goals. I think of the church and my progression. That's when I feel like life is draining out of me. 

I just rediscovered Pandora Radio online again. Oh glorious Pandora! With my perfect radio station in place: an odd mixture of Pearl Jam, Postal Service and Relient K.  My work becomes more like a dream. 

With my eyes pinched tight and my arms folded loosely in my lap, I imagine I'm somewhere else and the smooth rhythms and steady voices bring me back from my electrical horror, into something more lucid and beautiful.

My Batman

Do you remember this?

 

  I don't think I'll ever forget Saturday mornings with tall, dark and handsome Batman. I can still see "midget Michelle" checking the clock for the time and barreling onto the couch.  

  There was something glittery about the whole combination: my 80's style pajamas, mussed up hair, a soft blanket on the couch and of course the Dark Knight.

  He and I shared something special in those early mornings. The Bat Signal clearly spoke to me across animation circuits and television broadcasting.  Those over-rated commercials about the "Easy Bake Oven" or Barbie Dreamhouse was child-play when I could learning about fighting crime, justice and real heroes.

  While other heroes had their stupid puns (winy Spiderman) or ridiculous powers (mumbling Superman), Batman didn't have the awkward "S" tattooed to his chest nor did he shoot nasty webs out of his wrists. His dark cloak and smirk gave hint to a certain sophistication and class. He used his perfectly normal self (pimped out by some sweet gadgets) and showed villains of Gotham City and everyone else in the world how justice was done--by real people.

  Now that I'm older I see a lot of value in Batman. I wrote an English paper on him and like any true obsessive nerd, I could debate Batman subjects with the best of them. I just got the whole Batman: The Animated Series on DVD and I'm so excited to reacquaint myself with true love--ahem--I mean justice and heroic actions of my childhood.  Here's to Batman--a real hero and not just some fool wearing a bright cape and silly boots. I think I could be Batman....

Drowning in Matlock

You would know him, if you saw him.  He's standing on the stairs wearing a periwinkle blue trench-coat and a smirk.  The slight wrinkles on his face and high water slacks remind me of kind grandfathers that smile at me on Trax.  His mussed up tie and fluffy white cap of hair can not overshadow the beady eyes that are digging at me through the monitors.

I have a love/hate relationship with Matlock. The man both terrifies and intrigues me. Luckily, I was able to avoid his piercing looks and smug smiles through my childhood and most of my adult life--thus far.

Every weekend I see more of Matlock than I ever wanted. It doesn't matter which day it is; Saturday or Sunday night shift, he's there to accuse me in the dark, late nights. 

Some days Matlock reminds me of my dad, with over the top expressions and the cheesest puns/lines known to mankind. I wouldn't be surprised if I found my dad watching him in the basement, "Michelle, it's just education; don't tell.  No one has to know why I'm so funny."

At that point I could roll my eyes and say, "Sure, Dad.  I'll let you stick to your fantasies and imaginary world of humor and awesome-ness that only Matlock and you truly enjoy."

I bet that's true too...Baby Boomers are probably the only ones who enjoy it, that's probably why it still airs in 1960-1970 quality with pinched colors and dulled edges. Or why it airs at 1pm on KJZZ right after a slew of awful Hollywood judge shows.

So every weekend Matlock and I stand off. Well, he stands off and I cower in the corner of the video tape room away from his glaring looks. Maybe if I don't look at the screens, he can't eat any more bits of my soul or laugh at my pathetic fear.  

You win this time, Matlock.

The Bacone, aka Bacon Time Space Continuum Breaker

BACON
As my friend Jim Gaffigan would say, "...if you put bits of bacon on a strip of bacon, you could travel in time. It would be a bacon-to-bacon time-space continuum."

Well Jimmy, here's our chance to travel that magical meat time warp: the bacone. Created out of San Francisco and molded by a man with a bright green mohawk and lovely eyes, the bacone is molded to be stuffed with delicious eggs, cheese, gravy and topped with a biscuit.  It is genius.  Someday I want to meet this mohawked man and try his delicious bacone. 

Video Bonuses:

1. Brian Boitano and his crazy, overly flamboyant explanations

2. A green mohawk...not just a mohawk--a spiked mohawk that reminds me of the Statue of Liberty 

3. Bacon with space to actually put more bacon---or breakfast foods if you prefer. 

2010 Grates

It's been real 2010, a real pain....and some awesome things. I was thinking about my 'greats' of 2010.  Some would quickly point out graduation and working for KSL.  Although walking in the Huntsman Center with my cap and gown was priceless and nothing really prepared me for sitting in front of televisions screens for news; I don't mean those kind of 'greats'.  "Grates", my cool slang term for funny things I am grateful for. Here's my list of awesome 'grate' things in my life from 2010: grateful.

1. Public Transportation: so there never is a shortage of bum/crazy stories or visuals like this guy <--------------

2. I work with exactly 4 women, which means the bathroom is pretty much always clean--much different from when I worked at call centers and shared the bathroom with hundreds of women....smelly/dirty women.

 3. To be a Utah Ute, so I can brag and trash talk all my blue-bleeding BYU "friends" about my boys winning 17 to 16  in 2010.

 4. For my marine brother who calls me while driving to go to dinner and often gets distracted instead, sometimes with road rage....and a long slew of curse words.

5. For my cousins, so on Thanksgiving I can build robots with their children instead of having an adult conversation.

 6. My car, Dante, to be the envy of all the town, with all my trashbags and a broken windshield.

7. The word "shenanigans", it always makes me laugh.

 8. A fantastic imagination, so I can always be entertained...even if everyone else doesn't get it.

 9. The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson, so I can bear sarcasm and weird actual events along inappropriate lines/jokes with laughter galore...that Scottish man never ceases to make me giggle, with a robot skeleton sidekick (Geoff Peterson) and his random puppetry and impressions. I will love him until the day I die.

10. The gym, so I can use my imagination to kick everyone's trash including slimy ex-boyfriends as well as maintain health.

 11. My apartment handles snow removal so I don't have to, including on our "breezeway" in front of our door and next to my window. Too bad they pick the middle of the night to scrape snow and ice. Yes, I heard you crazy shovelers at 3am, 5am and then 8am.  

Ghost of Christmas Past

The "Ghost of Christmas Past" has haunted me all month.  Things are so different now. The cold air bites my face and fingers while I stand at the Trax station.  The sight of snow makes me swear and I trudge through the snow without creating a "secret snowangel". 
KSL and Energy Solutions Arena are decked out in supposedly bright lights to reflect the holiday spirit. Instead, the dull Christmas lights in the trees glare at me from the branches. At temple square, the lights are bright but in a way that reminds me of Hollywood--desperate and superficial. I mean Jesus is floating in the reflecting pool. 
Christmas is in a week and I haven't even watched a single Christmas movie.  "A Charlie Brown's Christmas Story", "The Santa Clause" and "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" have not moved from the back of my movie binder.  The seem likely to remain.
I work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. When people ask me about Christmas it seems hollow, like an obligation. I feel like a cynic.  Christmas used to be about giving when you didn't have to (even if it was from the dollar store), about cheesy Christmas carols on metal pipes with cousins (singing as off-key as I could to cover up my timing).  I remember my Grandpa Lewis reading the Christmas story in a strong clear voice while the cousins put up pictures on the flannel board. It used to be about monster breakfast (the best meal of the year); or families, where I could have my brothers and sister and their families to make me feel like I belonged. 
Christmas traditions have changed and I feel a little left in the dust.  Instead of Christmas carrying me to where My mom and dad are great, but spending Christmas in front of the tree by myself is just a bigger reminder of what used to be.  I remember sitting in the circle with the tree and family.  I guess this is what most "single" people feel. I feel like I missed the Christmas train and now there's no going back. I kinda wish I could skip Christmas this year, it blows.