A quick break from marriage talk and my parents....

There's always got to be some sort of pecking order in life. In basic training eight years ago, I had to learn my chain of command and all of the rules associated with greeting soldiers of higher rank. I spent hours in the classroom learning how to stand at ease when talking sergeants, addressing officers as sir/mam unless they're a captain (or is it sergeant major?), how to salute (only outside, never indoors, never in the courtyard of the pentagon), and how to enter a room for a board (center yourself on the highest rank then salute, ignore the "don't salute inside" rule). The list of rules goes on. Looking back on my military career that is now approaching the 8 year mark, I remember countless times when I would intentionally take the long way around a building or make sure to carry lots of equipment so that I could avoid areas of high "officer" concentration. It was always confusing to me how to handle situations like these and in basic, I also learned that if you handled it the wrong way, they would start yelling at you and you would have to do lots of push-ups. So yeah...to this day I avoid officers, which can be a difficult task for a band member. Believe it or not we actually play some pretty prestigious and high profile gigs.

Today I worked a 12 hour shift at Starbucks setting up the new store. It's apparently going to be the flagship (and biggest) store for the state of Colorado pulling in around $75,000 dollars a week for the company so I guess it's a pretty big deal. It was funny to watch everything unfold. Early this morning our district manager came in and everyone got really stressed because the old store looked like a mess and we were still serving coffee. Then we closed up shop and moved to set up the new store and rumors of the regional manager began to circulate. Some people called him "Mr. Jones" while others just called him by his position. "Region is coming soon. Get busy. Make yourself useful. Wipe down that display case." When he finally came he fit the perfect model of corporate management. Overly enthusiastic and trying way to hard to make us lowly baristas think that he actually cares how our day is going and whether we're excited about the new store. When he met me he said that even though he has to remember over 10,000 different names of all of the baristas in his region, he would commit to remembering mine. Right....and who cares how many names he has to remember anyway? He also drove a BMW that was just a little nicer than the one "district" drove which was just a little nicer than the mini-van our store manager drove (she's a mom). After a couple of encounters with "Region" I found myself avoiding him too. This time not out of fear of push-ups. Mostly just cause I wanted to sit alone in my corner and set up my display case of crazy expensive holiday mugs and promotional espresso machines and not have to fake the enthusiasm that seems to be an unwritten job requirement of working for the man. (Actually it's written. We call it "Legendary Service"). There were rumors of an even higher-up coming but he/she never surfaced. Probably in the next week or so he/she will enter with rays of bright light beaming from all orifices and doves circling overhead. I can only hope that I'm not working that shift.

Anyways, it all falls into place. The whole pecking order of importance. You can fight it and debate whether our society places value in the wrong things and whether or not the attributes necessary to rise to the top in corporate America are actually important and eternal attributes, or you can laugh it off. Which is what I'm choosing to do today.

My Little Carbon Monoxide Detector

This is the first blog in a series (of three) about how different life is living with your parents after six years away. Things just aren't the same as I remember from back in the day.

My parents are very different people now. Or maybe I just am noticing dimensions to their personalities that I was oblivious to in high school. I think what I notice most in my mom is how ready she is to be a grandma. (Warning: if you're of the male persuasion and reading this, you might want to turn back right now. This blog is about to get a little scary). I brought Newton, my wonderful, most perfect guinea pig home and she adores him. He knows that when I'm around he eats on my schedule so he really doesn't start squealing for his dinner until 5. But for her, anytime she walks through the room, goes upstairs, comes downstairs, gets anything from the fridge, goes to car, speaks, breathes, sleeps, etc. his needy squeals permeate the entire house. She's such a sucker and gives him a carrot everytime he asks. His Pavlovian instinct knows this and he works the system like a pro. I think that this little routine that I watch the two of them go through is just a glimpse of what will come when I have kids of my own. They'll be spoiled for sure.

I recently started working at the nursery at church on Sunday mornings. Though I've never really considered myself much of a "kid" person, now, I really cant think of a better way to start of my days. I was never one of those girls who walked around eyeing and oogling over children at the grocery store and babysitting to me was always just for the money. Yesterday however, I was watching one of the other nursery workers interact with her own child and I suddenly got incredibly jealous. Call it my biological clock ticking away or whatever, but I really wanted to have that bond that she and her daughter had and I wanted to smile the way she was smiling when her baby pushed the ball around the room. There is probably nothing like that feeling in the world. Newton warms my heart and makes me smile all the time when his personality surfaces, but it's probably not the same as it will be with a child.

Recently my mom mentioned that having Newton as my own seems to be, in part, fulfilling a motherly void. I think she's correct to the degree that part of my purpose here on life is to be depended on. For life, love, and for well-being. He wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for me. In the same way Newton is currently filling part of a void in my parents too. Playing the role of a "grand guinea pig" to be spoiled with many carrots. Though they would never say it, they're obviously ready for that stage in life. I can tell. But then again my dad just said that he thinks it's good to have a guinea pig around the house because if there's a carbon monoxide leak, Newton will die first and the rest of us will know to get out of the house. And one of the babies in the nursery got a bump on the head during my watch so maybe I'm not that ready to be a mother either.

Find Me a Find, Catch Me a Catch

I always love dinners with the extended family. The conversation always follows the same predictable pattern.

Them: So Carly, are you dating anyone right now?
Me: Well no. Not right now.
Them: Then let me just tell you about how wonderful my chiropractor is....
Me: Um...I really don't like being set up.
Them: But this guy is exceptional. He's handsome, wealthy....
Me: Well I've never really considered a chiropractor to be a real doctor. They don't even go to med. school for that.
My little brother: Oh lighten up Carly. You're not getting any younger.

You can pretty much cut and paste this conversation and apply to every family gathering during every holiday. Granted the potential male suitor always changes. Sometimes he's a doctor or a dentist, other times a youth minister or business entrepreneur, but for some reason the people in my family have always felt some sort of need to arrange romance into my life. They went so far one year to even bring a guy to one of our family gatherings (all the way from Ohio or Iowa or some boring state like that). He was nice enough but I certainly felt no spark of interest and when questioned about it later because he was asking my family members for my phone number, I claimed that I just wasn't up for starting a long distance relationship with somebody I didn't know. My aunt informed me last night that upon hearing this news, he told her that he would consider moving to Colorado to pursue me if I was willing to give him a chance. Yikes. The picken's must be really slim up there in Iowa.

I guess (and I've noticed this with some of my friends too) that when a person is in a solid and happy relationship, it makes them feel better to see everyone else paired up as well. That might fuel the need to "arrange" relationships for the unfortunate single souls of this world. It certainly can be said that both sides of my extended family have been unsually successful in their marriages, so it would follow suit that they all wish the same success on me and believe that they know how to set it up well. But what doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me, is that my family members are viewing all single 20-something males with such a open eyes. Ultimately I'm the one who will have to live the rest of my life with the other person. Not them. So shouldn't I be doing the primary "matchmaking"? I'm 25 so I damn well know what is attractive about the opposite sex and what isn't attractive to me. Much better than someone who spends a few hours with me a couple of times a year.

I'm Cancelled

Me: Hi...I'm here to vote
Guy at the "Vote Center": OK, let me just see your I.D. and we'll get you set up (pauses while looking at my I.D.)
Guy at the "Vote Center": I'm afraid you're in the wrong place dear.
Me: What? But I heard on the news last night that they did away with precincts in Colorado this year and any Denver resident can show up at any Voting Center and vote with just an valid I.D.? Plus I walked here from my place. Where else am I suppose to go?
Guy at the "Vote Center": That's true dear. We did get rid of precincts to make voting easier and more accessable to the general population. You are in the wrong place. Please step outside and call this number to see where you need to go.
Me: Huh? (stomps off in a tantrum like fashion reminescent of my childhood)

Me: (to the lady on the phone) Hi! I was just told I'm at the wrong place to vote. Where do I need to go?
Lady on the Phone: (after taking my full name) Well it appears that you have been cancelled.
Me: Hang on a second Mam. (after 60 long seconds) Well I'm sorry to disagree, but my heart seems to be beating just fine at it's usual 58 beats per minute. I'm breathing OK still. I'm pretty sure I haven't been cancelled.
Lady on the Phone: Yes you have. According to you address and birthday, you're cancelled. Please feel free to drive to Golden and fill out an emergency voter application.
Me: No thanks.


Is it wrong of me or does it just seem ridiculous to drive all the way to Golden to vote on issues that I only partially care about in the first place? Is that really an emergency or am I just to complacent about this whole process? There were a couple of issues I wanted to cast my opinion on (Governor's race, a couple of marriage issues, and the judges term limits) but overall it just seems like this whole process is a hassle.

I would say, how can we fairly represent any minority population in an election when even a white, middle-class 25 year old cant cast a vote without devoting a whole day and 20 bucks worth of gas to the whole process? But I wont say that for fear of it seeming like I think I'm entitled to having my vote count more than the minority population. Which it doesn't.