Rollercoaster

My friend, Johnny, posted a blog entry today about life as a roller coaster. He feels like his life is not a rollercoaster-very flat and boring.
I'd like to propose a life roller coaster swap with Johnny Walker.
My day felt like a gigantic roller coaster of shifty demise. A big coaster with metal swirls of questionable integrity and sharp descents. I could name a big long list of crappy parts of my day, but the big one for me was frustration.
Two weeks ago I applied for a job that I really wanted and felt like was a perfect fit for me. The hours were perfect: 9-5 p.m., no weekends and holidays. I would work with one other girl, who didn't seem mean or conniving at all. It sounded lower stress and better pay. I did a phone interview with her and then I did a face to face interview. The interview was one that was so-so. I didn't know what the outcome was going to be, which usually means bad-but I had hope. I have been trying to practice hope over the past three months, you know fight those awful reminders.
In short email form I read that I didn't get the job. It was impersonal and plain. Emails of rejection can be such a blow for me. When my job qualifications are so job specific. My field of expertise is so direct that it's difficult to find a job that fits me. I've been looking for a new job for a while and I've only been on two interviews and zero offers.
That jab at the jugular was the first hard part of the day. It was such a big blow for a day that just continued to spiral like those super scary roller coasters.
In some ways I feel like my day ended hours ago, with me sitting on a concrete step outside my work and wanting my dad so badly. I wanted to run home to him. I could almost see him sitting there in his tan armchair, holding a puzzle book.  he would put down his book, hug me and tell me he loved me. That's it. He would give me some sage, church advice and everything would feel okay again. I miss him a lot.
I suppose this entry isn't all happy and awesome, but not every day is a funny story. Sometimes there are roller coaster days.

Origami

Holidays are going to be overly sentimental this year. I want to take pictures of everything, so when my memory fails I can pull them up on my computer or t.v. and really remember again. Or maybe just for posterity's sake, so Cameron can look and recognize images and things like I do.

X amount of years ago, my parents started giving us nativity sets for Christmas.  There's the wooden puzzle set that's put on the floor right now so Cameron can play with it-but she's not really interested in Christmas stuff. There's an ultra small one that opens up like a book. Right now this one is my favorite.

It may just look like folded paper to people and wasted time to others, but it's so much more. 

My dad was an origami enthusiast. As a child, he developed this talent as a time waster while he was waiting for his parents to get home. When I was growing up, there was always a folded animal in progress placed by his armchair.

When I was ten or so he made me a pegasus. As many girls my age, I was super into horses and such.  I feel like Hercules came out around then too. Anyway, he handed the folded creature to me and even I could tell it was complicated. There were so many folds that the design was solid and destruction-proof. When he put it in my hand he told me that I couldn't lose it. I didn't.

Putting it up was a highlight for me. It's my own way of remembering and keeping my dad around at this time. What an odd thing to say...that origami is my symbol for my dad this time of year. This set is on the bookshelf right next to the hall. Every time I go to my room or Cameron's room, I will walk past this nativity set. A daily reminder.  One day I'd like to get a shadowbox for this set. It's so priceless now.

Four Day Christmas Tree

For the first time in my life, I joined the thousands of people who put up their Christmas tree.  This was our first actual tree. Last year Dave, Cameron and I were crammed in a tiny one bedroom apartment. Cameron "slept" in the living room, shoved in the space between Dave's gigantic brown couch and television.  We created our tree as a space saver option. In case you forgot. Last year's tree looked like this:

It was made out of green scrubs and spare ribbon from Cameron's baby shower gifts. Honestly, it didn't stay up too long because we were in the process of prepping for yet another move. Even though it wasn't awesome, it was there as a symbol.

After last Christmas, my brother and sister-in-law were getting rid of their tree. They wanted to be all upper-classy with a pre-lit Christmas tree. So we got their old one. Setting up a fake tree takes so much longer to put up than I remember. As a kid, I never helped spread out the boughs. It took more than just an hour.  

 

It was so perfect though. Dave and I pushed out the branches, listening to Christmas music via Pandora playlist and Cameron checked in on us frequently (luckily she doesn't care for the bristles at all).

It was so picturesque.

That's what we had at day number one: an assembled, fake Christmas Tree.

Saturday we went shopping for lights, garland and ornaments. Like most Christmas first timers, we were short a strand of colored lights and two strings of garland. We haven't finished it yet. It's getting there.

I am super glad Cameron isn't pulling lights off or trying to chew on the plastic branches. She does go in the front room a lot, to play with Aunt Lara's quilt on the couch. The tree makes a pretty great backdrop for her cute face.

Post Facebook "Fast"

How poetic! My Facebook Fast technically ended on Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for the choices I make (sometimes). Facebook has many wonderful purposes. My mom and my sister use it to keep in touch and share pictures and stories of their daily lives. In 2008 or whenever I joined the cult of Facebook because I was living alone in Idaho, without a cell phone and felt really lonely. Those purposes are great. Things changed. I already wrote about how Facebook has changed for me in an old blog post. The decision to take a break from Facebook is one of the best decisions I've ever made. Two weeks without that "book of faces" and I'm okay. I'm more than okay. My fingers aren't itching to check my "friends'" statuses or who wrote on my wall. In fact I don't want to go back to Facebook. I don't think I will. After work last night, I did a mini reflection of the past two weeks. As I sat in my dark car, waiting for the light to change; I thought about everything the past two weeks entailed. I haven't changed my life dramatically. I still do the same things. Have the same frustrations and excitements. My list of actual friends hasn't been tripled, doubled or even increased by one. I never actually called anyone in my family or friend circle-although they did call me a few times and we had REAL conversations. I started writing again, building multiple stories into novel ideas. Although it's slow going, I've written over 10,000 words in my budding novel. Those words wouldn't happen if I was checking Facebook. You know what has changed the most? Me. I am different. I feel so much more at peace with who I am and what is around me. I wish I could explain in words how my feelings changed. It makes me sound like an addict. I wouldn't say I was addicted to Facebook, but I was letting it run my life. I used Facebook to bring me down. Even if I lied and said I just wanted to see what funny thing "so and so" will write. It was really to see where I was failing as a mother, wife and woman. I saw people's posts as challenges and I can't meet them because I'm different. After two weeks I don't see that as failure anymore. Cameron is still a challenge but she's my girl and I'm glad she's not like every other child on Facebook. If I don't have beautiful hair like my friend on Facebook, it's okay because I don't have perfectly straight shiny hair. I'm an individual and not them and I'm okay with me and what's in my life. Maybe that's rehashing what I've already said and perhaps I'm kicking the dead horse a little bit. Facebook is a waste of self esteem, fuels dissatisfaction and depression. Take a Facebook break, the longer the better. I don't think one week is enough to feel change, but any break will be good for you. Try it and share. I would love to hear how lives get changed when we all open our eyes to our REAL life profile.

The Voice

When I first saw The Voice, I scoffed. Who cares about Christina Aguilera anymore, I don't even know who Blake Shelton is, I thought Adam Levine was the gay member of Adam Levine and Cee Lo Green was a fresh artist.
I thought it would fail. It's the same music talent show; redone in different modes and different quirks to make them look more "original".
As much as I hated the show; it grew on me like a bad case of Chicken Pox. This season is especially good. I think that the world needs to see some of the performances from tonight. The top ten performed and I want to share the song from the bigger than life, Cody Belew. I promise that his rendition of "Crazy in Love" by Beyonce' will rock your socks off and make you giggle under your breath a little.

The Red Balloon Toy Store

After an eight day in a row working streak, I wanted my first day off to be different. My days off usually consist of Cameron following me around, sitting at my feet and throwing hysterical fits. Today I decided ahead of time we were going out.
It's my nephew's birthday part tomorrow and we needed to find a gift. I took Cameron to The Red Balloon Toy Store in Sandy. 
I was feeling emotional before we even got there. The store hold a lot of my childhood in those glass doors. I never went to the store without my dad. He was, after all, just a kid stuck in a grown-ups body.
On my first drive down that road in more than ten years, I missed it. It used to be a little tiny shop in a strip mall. I feel like it might have been next to a nail salon and chinese laundry place. It was probably about the size of my bedroom. 
I remember the toys layered on the shelves and when the shelves didn't have anymore room; they were stapled to the walls and hung from the cieling.  It was one of those magical places of childhood, where I picked up little plastic animals and danced with giant dolls.  That place was probably kept in business by my allowance alone.
My dad would cruise the aisles ahead of me and call out to me behind one in the corner, "Look at this! Isn't this neat?!" He pulled out a little marrionette with string and wooden parts. It was fantastic. He collected the more expensive versions of these marrionettes and I wanted to share in one of his plays. I bought three of them, but I didn't keep them. I wish I did now.
Anyway,  the toy store moved across the street in a bigger location and an updated logo. It's ginormous with more space and toys than i thought possible. Cameron and I examine the Lincoln Log knock offs and Playmobile sets of old. I felt like I was falling in love with the store all over.
I tried to get Cameron to play with some of the toys and the only one she held onto through the store was a plush microbe of mono, "the kissing disease".
In a lot of ways, it's almost become tradition. My dad took me there as a kid and I took Cameron there. I really hope that she can take her children later in life too. It's weird that I've been trying to think of creating our own traditions and memories.  This kind of place is perfect for creating memories with children and parents.  My stroll through memory lane at the toy store was the greatest way to start my weekend.

TSA Agents

In October we flew a lot. Layovers and airports are not awesome, but sometimes the TSA Agents can be funny.
We're filing through TSA Security and one of the agents has a sense of humor about his job.
He's singing to us and making jokes. His last one before we walked away was, "TSA: saving the country one waterbottle at a time."
Due to the four hour extended layover in Dallas, crappy "Chili's" in the airport, seating displacement and jetlag; it didn't take much to be a highlight for the day. That guy made his job and my traveling day awesome.
Michelle