Joy to You, Baby

Two days until the end of the world. I've got 48 hours left. I feel like Keifer Sutherland all of a sudden. Were the world to truly end in two days, would you be relieved? Would you gather your things and burn them all in a big pile to say you beat things to the punch? Stand in front of a mirror and feign to be mostly OK with who's staring back at you? Would you serve? Start checking off that imagined bucket list you never wrote down? When you're holding the ones you love, would you tell jokes, or replay memories that make you weep? Could you find solace in your family's conglomerate ascension into heavenly realms? What would you tell your kids, your spouse, your mother...? Would you charge your iphone, or check your facebook?

I would find reprieve, but not call it relief. I would gather all my things and review them; allow whatever emotion tied to each thing, note, picture well-up and give me one more good run. I would bypass the mirror to look out the window. Had I impressed my reflection sufficiently, it would appear in the world around me. I would help where, whom I could. Keep those around me comfortable with love and warmth. With two short days, only one item would be on my bucket list and it would be to soak up as much time with my loved-ones as I can. I would remind my children of Heavenly Father and his son Jesus Christ, and that we'll be seeing them soon. I would tell them they made me. I would tell my husband that my life before him was about as useful as a rose in the shade; I'm so much more In Bloom when he shines with me. I would tell my mother she's the rock in the river that stops the flow and commands the river to flow around it, and what that example held for me.

Here's to the next 48.

Saturday Morning Vinyl

It's Christmas time. It's an instinctual part of our generation to want to go out and buy things to demonstrate our affection and feel fulfilled somehow. These aren't bad things. Well, only if you don't have the means and wish it so. I've been struggling with this a little, and will most likely revisit the fight again, but right now listening to The Creek that Drank the Cradle by Iron & Wine on vinyl with my beautiful family is more than sufficient. My cup feels full.

I'm perplexed at how life can be such a struggle, but when you hear a lyric that says, "Mother, do you remember the blink of an eye when I breathed through your body?" you can be completely turned inside out and for a brief moment see things how they really are. Struggle or not, that's what's real. That's what's beautiful. Hardships do not eliminate the beauty of everything, or everyone. It enhances it. They coincide, and hopefully, collide often enough that we fail to categorize them. Beauty over here, Hard over there. Let them bleed together.

Sitting Next to Stahlin

Me: Oh, good evening Mr...Stahlin.
Stahlin: Shut up, I hate you.
Me: May I inquire as to why? I've just barely met you.
Stahlin: I hate the way you face sits on your head. I wish to remove it, and plant it on a canvas somewhere so a starving artist can make good use of it; or eat it.
Me: Glad to hear you support the Arts, but I didn't ask that you sit next to me.
Stahlin: No, perhaps not. How did you get this seat with that face?
Me: I guess even a bad face can have enough money. Do you hate all people because of their faces?
Stahlin: No. Just yours. And my mother's.
Me: I see. Do you like your-
Stahlin: If you continue to speak with me, I must insist on your demise.
Me: I don't believe you like your face either.

I then died.

This was roughly, and dramatically, my circumstances this morning driving back from Hooper. Perhaps not Stahlin, but had Stahlin and Freud made a love child, then him. Sitting next to that guy. That's all.

Forever in a Potato Sack

I like Neil Diamond. I'm not at all jaded at the irony of him composing a song inspired by his poverty and making millions off it; I'm not. Furthermore, I'm not going to discuss my non-jaded feelings about it. Mostly because I just did.

Colby and I were driving home from my family's house a few days ago, and Diamonds, "Forever in Blue Jeans" came on. We've been struggling financially since Reality combined with Freak Circumstances smacked the smiles right off our faces. I trust Colby, he trusts me, and we trust the Lord. Trust, unfortunately, does not directly generate funds. Colby was sitting next to me in the car reading some homework on the laptop, Hallie was on her "D-Pad", and I was listening to the zune on shuffle. I normally skip Neil Diamond songs because, typically, I'm not in a Diamond kind of mood. I think there's only one person who's perpetually in a Diamond mind set, and I call him Dad. I let the blue jean song play, and realized how right Neil is.
"Money talks, but it can't sing... or dance... and it don't walk."
Yes! Money runs its figurative mouth all day long, all night long, all of our lives long. Its always expanding and retracting, flourishing and failing, and will NOT shut up about it. It's what we hear everyday from our economy, our boss, our absence of a boss, our colleagues, our checking account, insurance, and grocery stores. But, this money is stationary. It's immovable in its power. It's appeal ends with what it can or cannot get you. It can't walk with you like your companion, your child, your friend. It won't sing with you-even in the good times-and it certainly won't dance the night away with you. So what am I going to do without it? I'm going to dance, sing, and walk through this life with the people I love. The rest is stupid and I'll take care of it as it arises. For now, I'm fine with living in a potato sack.

Pages Keep Turning

There's a reason we can't all see the future; specifically our future. If we could, we'd mess it up. How many of our plans remain the same throughout the years? How many of us stay the same to the degree of sedentary living? I used to think that if I could just get settled in one place, with one job, everything steady that I can move on and do crazy things. As long as I always had that home base to come back to. This settling doesn't exist. If it does, I'm realizing it doesn't exist for me. I have the dreamiest dreamer of a husband who see's the world in a much greater light than I do. He has a more realistic grasp on what it has to offer, and that doesn't coincide with finding one corner of the earth and sticking to it forever. Corner's are good. Safe. Predictable. But how does this facilitate "living" later? It doesn't. We get so satisfied in our settlements, and so proud, that we stay.

I say we as a generality (is that a word?), but I mean me. I interviewed for a great job today, with great people. It's a lot less of a work load than I'm used to which may be a blessing right now. Part-time, so I still have plenty of time with Hallie and Colby. I guess I'm saying thank you to Heavenly Father for seeing my future, and facilitating it for me because i'm too proud to do it myself. I truly am his daughter, and appreciate his paternal, unconditional love for me.

You're fired, and Congratulations.

I blame my feet, not my heart. My feet oughta know better than to follow the unsure rhythms of an organ. Then again, they're just an extremity; to perpetuate movement, thereby my culprit. Life has several outlets, several paths. I was traveling down one that was safe. Not easy, but safe in its structure. I received a paycheck every two weeks; not a meaty one, but one we could work with. I missed my daughter. I missed her everyday. Going back to work on Monday morning-every Monday morning-was an emotional chore. I felt my Motherhood being stripped from me; the only thing that had always only been mine directly from God. Another trail came along the safe path I had built-was proud of building-and my heart ached for it. After a month of stressfully leaving CMS, I decided to work for a networking company forwarding freight. I could be at home with my daughter and get as much out of my work as I put into it. It was gonna be great.

Two months in, 70 clients later, and i'm fired due to not stopping someone from saying I should start my own agency with the company, as I was receiving zero help from my lead. Conspiring, I was. Slandering, I was. I'm tremendously hurt from these accusations. Now, I have no job, can't go back to the kind people that gave me my start here in Utah County, and need to find a way to make a new path.

At first I was optimistic. Feelings of relief were euphoric, but short-lived. What have I done to my family? Why am I not writing about cute things Hallie did, or how wonderfully she's growing up? Who knows? I dug a hole, and know with the Lord's help I can be pulled out...but stuck here in the meantime. I'm immovable. I'm supposed to start all over again? Leave Hallie all over again? The whole time i'm thinking, "how unfair to her", but she's much stronger than I. I'm worried about myself; and I suppose that realization hurts worse.

So, I got fired, but also got a congratulations on the new baby. Who does that?