Wreath Be With You

Every season, in my head anyway, starts with the changing of the door wreath. I’m not sure how this seems to be hardwired into me. I do know that it was something I was raised with, a sort of family tradition. One in which my sisters and I still do religiously.

It is pretty odd, this tradition growing up in a household without a lot of traditions. Apart from the ones pressed upon us by the Mormon Church doctrine. None of us children have multiple spouses, stockpile food stores for the coming apocalypse, or the very worst of them all….use white bread. It is a testament to our development that we escaped the churches brainwashing of "all food must be highly processed."

I thought about this while I placed my holiday wreath upon my door. Then I stood back to survey my fantastic wreath. The wreath, as one would expect, then gets compared to the next door neighbors. The Nguyen’s. Oh, man…. I. Hate. Them. With their stinking wreath all made of home-decorated pine cones. Each pine cone individually wrapped with colorful ric-rac trimming. Where do they get off?! Last year, after I placed my silver-glitter dipped "winter-wonder land" wreath on our entry way door, they had the nerve to come back with battery operated garland festooned about their door. I guess money can’t buy taste.

This year I have decided to not descend to their level of one-upmanship. A classic evergreen wreath, deconstructed; if you will. Maybe a bit like Mormon Christ would of carried as he roamed the mid-west.

Not That Cool

I posted a picture online recently. It depicts the new snowboard rack I had installed on top of my Alltrack. I really didn’t think about it, mostly because the intent was to show off my roof-rack installing skills. Yet, I would never dream of strapping a laminated plank to my feet and slide down a frozen mountain. No thank you.  Soon the comments and questions came in about my snowboarding prowess. I installed the rack so that the boyfriend could take my all wheel drive up the mountain. So, even though I am now one of those Colorado dudes driving around with a roof-rack, it's not really mine.

The Day Before Thanksgiving

Ah.... the day before Thanksgiving. That time when I completely question my culinary skills. 

Every year on this day I start the day sure I have the recipes I’ve spent hours choosing, and hours of shopping for their ingredients. Then soon I began to realize that my recipes aren’t saved on my iPad, and I remember that I’m missing most of my ingredients. 

Suit and Tie

I am currently in a multi-stage interviewing process with four separate new positions outside of my current company. Have conservative suit; will travel. The quick answer is that I am desperate to work on a team that doesn’t end their sentences with prepositions. If I get asked "where you at?" one more time…. Truthfully I am happy in my current position, (sort-of) but I need to grow, and it’s apparent this cannot happen.

For one position within a multi-state eating disorder recovery corporation, I feel I have now interviewed with every member of staff. I mean, I haven’t met ALL the janitorial staff, maybe next week. For all these interviews I figured it would be okay if I wear the same suit every time, I just switch out the tie. It is me just stopping by their headquarters every once in a while to hang out. Another is a non-profit education company. Also multiple interviews. Glenda on the first floor reception says I’m the best candidate, but if she hears anything she’ll let me know… I’m going to start bring her doughnuts.

Their problem is understandable. You cannot interview a HR Manager. Every question they give me, I am just hardwired to give the best response for the sake of the printed interview questionnaire. My dream is that a CEO will just come out and say "Look, you’re the person that should be doing the interviewing of candidates, just come out and tell me what you’re gonna do for me!" And, I’d tell them the good about me and the bad about me. I’ll put myself in payroll and send my interview suit to the drycleaner. Because it’s beginning to stink.

Until then, I interview. Again. And again. I hope to have good news for you soon.

Eleven Years of StevieB

Seriously, eleven years?  Today makes eleven years I have been blogging.

It boggles my mind how different one person can be in eleven years. My drives, goals, and desires have really no similarities to the thirty-five year old who started blogging. I have had six cars, three longterm relationships, many casual boyfriends, three dogs, and one blog. One blog to unite them all.

Yes, I spend to much time writing papers about third wave Feminists and too little time blogging; I guess I should just post my term papers. But, I feel that will actually make my blog even less readable. And it is pretty damn un-read as it is.

Let's just cheer that I am having a eleven year anniversary as a blogger. Not many humans can actually say this. Mostly because blogging died about six years ago.