Thus far, my adventures as a brown-haired girl haven’t been all that exciting. Today I was put in charge of babysitting the folding machine at work while it stuffed a mailing. Tomorrow we have two meetings and then our “holiday/goodbye lunch”. Won’t that be fun?

My dad’s Christmas package hasn’t arrived. He mailed it on December 8th from Tennessee. It should have been here by the 12th. I called and told him. He shipped through the post office, no tracking, no confirmation and no insurance. Well, that makes this so fun, doesn’t it?!

The most exciting part of my day has to be that a chamber member asked if anyone we knew would be interested in a couple of sofas. My home is so nice. I have great furniture, beautiful end tables, coffee table, etc. because my dad and brother in law have made them all for me. My couches, on the other hand, were the ones we bought when we got married (13 years ago). They have been slip covered many times which drive me absolutely insane!! Hopefully tomorrow I will get to go look at these couches. Another member was giving away a leather sectional with two reclining sections and a pull out bed. Only a year and a half old. Would have LOVED that but I can’t transport it, nor can I get it up my stairs. I’m not all that certain that drool + leather would have been a good idea (not mine, you knuckleheads, the dog’s!!) Maybe these others will be a good thing. We’ll see.

As for tonight, we have huge plans!! Let’s see, first off, we have to get the mountain of recycling out the door. They pick it up on Thursdays, usually around 3 and we always have a full bin, but last week they came before 7am and we missed them entirely so this week we have a mountain of it and I can’t wait for it to be gone! Other than that, I brought home garden veggie soup and crusty French bread from Panera’s (these are my last couple of days working right across the street from the heavenly place!) so we’ll certainly enjoy that. Don’t you envy us our great Wednesday night plans?! I thought so!

For those who will be headed out in the next couple of days to travel for the holiday, be safe, well and happy! Enjoy your journey and the people you see! If you’re going someplace warm, enjoy. If you’re going someplace miserable and cold, feel free to send me a postcard. It will make me glad to be home!!

Day at work: three days left and counting. Boss is in complete denial or doesn’t seem to think I actually do anything as she doesn’t think she needs to ask me anything before I go. All this translates into: Amy did absolutely nothing all day at work. LOVE THIS JOB (insert high levels of sarcasm here).

Haircut after work: I went in because I’ve paid no attention to my highlights and just let them grow out and they look wretched, so I thought I’d get that taken care of now that it’s the end of December and all. The stylist was holding up the swatches to match my regular color and she says, “We’ll go with this warm brown…” I say, “um, I’m a redhead.” She says, “a redhead? Really?” wow, 34 years with this hair, you’d think I’d have the color down by now. Needless to say, I’m a little more of a brunette now than I’ve ever been.

Evening after work: I was so busy losing the appeal of being a redhead in favor of being a brunette that I missed the cable guy for our third date. Really think this guy has a thing for me. Oh no, wait, it’s just that they can’t get my DVR to work. He was supposed to bring a whole new unit tonight but I missed his visit, so they will have to come back on Thursday. Hope he’s not disappointed that I’m not a redhead anymore.

So that’s really that.

A huge, 43 pound box arrived tonight from my sister. Bear (her husband) had left me a voicemail the other day to call when the box arrived as he had some ‘splainin to do. I lugged the thing up the stairs and then called. Bear said, “The Christmas presents are on top. Then there is the bill holder you wanted that Jules was getting rid of (yippee!) and then the two slip covers. (They got new furniture, I got their slip covers. Nice, huh?) Wrapped in the slip covers in the bottom is something I thought LM would like. It’s an old word processor. There’s an extra cartridge but I’m not even sure if it’s good any more. If he doesn’t want it or it doesn’t work, just throw it away, I just thought he might get a kick out of it after playing with the typewriter at Papa’s house this summer.”

a) Bear is the coolest uncle ever. He’s the same man who gave LM his old Sega system for “Mission Control” up in LM’s loft.

b) The Christmas gifts weighed maybe 3 pounds total. Bear spent the money and effort to send over an outdated, used, ancient word processor ‘just for kicks’.

c) Out of anything that LM owns, plays with or wants in life, this machine just made his day. Day?! Month, year maybe! He sat right down and started typing away!

It is so true what people say about kids. Spend as much as you want on the gift, the child will be more amused with the box it came in. Price doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll be a great gift. If you could see LM’s face as this machine just types out what he wrote on the word processor, you’d see that this piece of throw-away technology has delighted him something silly.

I have already heard stories this season of parents spending double or triple on ebay the retail price of an item in order to secure the precious things their child put at the top of their list. I have heard of parents buying 10 year olds cell phones, ipods and even Blackberrys. (blackberries?) LM will have some nice things under the tree this year, but as Bear and I both know, the simplest things delight him. (You should see how excited he gets about having $5 to spend at Lowe’s!)

May you all have a truly delightful Christmas season and may you let your heart rejoice in the simple things in life.

I suppose I should have a lot to say. I really haven’t been writing lately. But I just don’t have much to say. I finished G’s album. It’s ready to be mailed tomorrow. All shopping is done. The work I brought home is finished. I have 4 ½ days left at my current job and then a nice week off before I start the new one. On Karla’s suggestion, I bought a new dog training book that I hope to get into this week.

That’s it. That’s the excitement.

Funny thing is, as boring as all that sounds, I am so peacefully content lately. Life is good, I am happy, LM is happy.

Merry CHRISTmas, everyone!

I sat at the table full of books welcoming each child over after they had either spoken to Santa or had hidden behind their parents out of fear (although the curiosity always brings little eyes around to peek at the man in the red suit). I explained to the parent accompanying the child that the books had been donated by a non-profit member of the chamber and each child could choose one to take with them for free. The word “free” seemed to startle some parents, it made them feel awkward, I almost wanted to ask for a small donation just to make them feel better.

I watched time after time as the parents would turn to their child and explain that they could pick out a book – “any book you want!” I watched as the child’s eyes grew big, as they would look at all the books. Pick this one up to examine it more closely. Put it down and reach for another. Puppies or cats? ABC’s or 123’s? Books about Pirates or Princesses? At some point along the way one book would choose the child. And they would take it in, close to their hearts, not opening it, not reading it there, just clutching it with sheer adoration.

And then I’d see the parent. Rifling through the books themselves. Saying, “Hmm…honey? Did you look at this one? What about Bob the Builder? Did you see this one about dinosaurs?” I wanted them to look at their child. I wanted them to look at their child and SEE.

“How about this one, dear? How about this “Pooch on the Loose?” Or how about Thomas the Tank Engine?”

And then they might turn and see that their child has allowed a book to choose them, they would see the child holding this book near and dear to them. And they would say, “oh, sweetie, hm…not that book. How about THIS book?”

One parent even got into a tug-of-war trying to take a book out of her daughter’s arms. Parents tried to do a quick swap, or to give their child a cookie and offer to hold the book the child had so they could swap it for another.

Why is it necessary to take away the voices of our children? Why do we start so early on convincing them that they cannot make good decisions on their own? Why do we offer up the right – “choose any book YOU want to!” and then take it away – “Oh no, not that book!”

After 5 hours and two different locations with Santa and his entourage, as I wore thin of parents forcing screaming children into the laps of the man who is the source of their fear; as I watched parents embarrass their children by bringing them when they are 15 years old, or by taking more of the free handouts than they were supposed to; after a long day of dealing with the exact part of the holiday I detest and have boycotted myself, there came a mother.

She was Caucasian with an Asian daughter. They were both beautiful. They had the Big Guy all to themselves as it was late in the day and there were no lines left. They were taking their time. They had watched outside the room, through the glass for awhile and had now come in a little closer. Mom helped daughter off with her coat- she was maybe 3 years old. They stood for a few moments together and just watched Santa. Mom explained to me that her daughter was a little shy about it, a little unsure. I said, “There’s absolutely no rush, take your time.” They finally walked slowly up and mom suggested that the daughter shake hands with Santa. Which she did just fine, and she talked to him a little and eventually sat on his lap. Mom was able to back up and take a couple photos that were picture-perfect.

And when it was all said and done and we had given the little girl her “goodie bag” and she had picked out her one free book, she and her mom sat right down on the floor together to look at the things that she had in her bag, to stick stickers on themselves, to eat some of the candy cane and to hug the little bear. They read the book they had picked out.

I noticed even later that they were still reading books together in the library, munching on the cookies.

They had made an afternoon out of it. It was the daughter’s agenda, not Mom’s. There was no rushing off to the next stop, no store they had to get to right now, nothing else in the world that needed to get done except enjoy the moment.

All the parents will go home with a photograph of their child (screaming or not) on Santa’s lap. The picture seeming to be the actual event. “Sit right there – no, over there. Wait, move your coat. Hold on, don’t move. Wait, let me hold that book. Okay, smile! No, not your cheesy smile, give me a real smile! Okay one more! Okay, now, tell Santa what you want and get your bag, there are other kids waiting!”

This child will go home with a memory of the event etched in her heart – a memory far more about her relationship with her mother than one with Mr. Claus. And I came home with a sweet reminder of how to show my child that I love him more than anything. By simply paying attention.

The job is officially mine.

You’ll pardon me if I go do an evening-long happy dance, won’t you?

Dads will be dads. Whatever that means, it apparently includes being a bit overly concerned about his middle child’s track record.

Last night, after calling my dad with the news about the job offer, I received three emails from him with suggestions and advice about negotiations and concerns. I’m 34, I’m fairly certain I can handle it, but I understand his need to be needed and his desire for me not to sell myself short.

The first two emails were innocent enough. Ideas on trade-offs that I might make to help negotiations (mind you, I’m asking for an incredibly minimal change to their offer).

The third email concerned me that maybe his blood thinners are affecting his brain.

This new job requires a security clearance. Not a big deal, the employer said, and certainly nothing they’ve made any sort of a fuss over or expressed any kind of concern for. But Dad, in all of his infinite wisdom says, and I’ll quote directly, “Worrier that I am, is there any concern about what would happen if you didn’t pass your security clearance? Could you be in a position of having quit one job and not be eligible for the other? I cannot imagine what could prevent the security clearance. I had one (Top Secret). However, what if J has contact with something questionable or S, not being a citizen, had something in his background. You don’t have to answer this; I am just asking the what if questions”

Let me clarify. My Dad. Thinks. I might not want to quit my current job. Until. I know if I can pass security clearance on the new job. Because. I have a gay ex husband. And. I dated a Canuck.

While these two events in and of themselves might fall into the “mistake” category, they certainly aren’t CRIMINAL. (Are they?)

An offer is on the table. Formalities now really until it’s absolultely official but it does look as if I might be able to give notice on Friday! I cannot begin to explain how good this feels! I’m writing my counter-proposal tonight (minor, MINOR suggestions – it’s really just an exercise in me asserting myself than anything. That and I understand the importance of always negotiating SOMETHING on a new job. – Did you know that over your lifetime you could lose over $1M by NOT negotiating your first job out of college?)

Anyways, thanks to all for your prayers and well-wishes. This is the best Christmas gift ever!

To everyone out there who are saying prayers, crossing fingers, making a wish, and whatnot on my behalf, don’t think I’ve been leaving you hanging on purpose. The gist is this: I interviewed for a new job the Friday before Thanksgiving week. They told me a dozen times how impressed they were with me and my resume. They introduced me to all the head honchos. They had two more interviews and they’d be deciding.

Then I didn’t hear anything.

Last week after an email on my part, they said they had their last interview that day and would be in contact. The next day they sent me an email asking me (if I was still interested) to send 3 references to them. I sent 4 about 2 hours later.

Yesterday they called one reference. Today they spoke with another.

I know companies are busy, but do they not look at it from the other point of view? I have other resumes out there, I don’t know what to say to other offers right now, because this is the one I’m really interested in. And I REALLY REALLY HATE my current job and would like to give notice before I have to start the New Year in the same crappy job.

Anyways, a HUGE thanks to everyone out there thinking about me and the situation. Everything looks good and promising, but I have nothing solid yet to go on. I WILL let you know whenever I know. I promise. In the meantime, I won’t hold it against you to uncross those fingers, they’ve probably gone numb long ago.

A long, long time ago..I can still remember, how that music used to make me smile.. oh wait, sorry. (Aren’t you glad you have that stuck in your head now?) Awhile back I remember chatting with this guy online. Not so much in the “let’s hook up later” sort of a chatting way, just a hey, you have a mastiff and I have a mastiff and isn’t that cool, kind of a way. But he was cute, and had FOUR mastiffs and we chatted off and on for a couple of months or so. He definitely seemed interested, and the conversation wasn’t always just about the dogs, but neither of us really ever took the next step to meet or anything. I don’t recall being THAT interested. But I might have met him had he asked. Honestly, I think I would have enjoyed just meeting his dogs!

Anyways, wouldn’t ya know it, on the cover of the local paper today is this guy’s picture with two of his mastiffs. They won the Philly dog show for best in breed. I wouldn’t forget a cute face (the mastiff’s) nor this guy, I’m certain.

And interestingly enough right next to him in the photo is his WIFE. Hmm…certainly don’t ever remember having heard the word “wife” anywhere in conversation. Hmm…

I’m so suddenly glad that I never asked to meet this guy or his cool dogs, even if I could say, ‘Ahh, I knew Wyatt the Mastiff when…”