So I've been gone for two weeks now. Sorry about that. I've been busy with work training and kid stuff, and I'm still recovering from a week long migraine/virus. It's been hectic around here.

Anyway.

Cameron and I are HUGE animation fans. Our Amazon video library is mostly Disney and a hand full of Pixar movies. And with having a 2 year old, you can imagine that the TV is always playing something child friendly. Well today I decided to watch Toy Story because Robbie hasn't seen it, also I apparently needed a good cry.

Watching this movie made me think of all the animated flicks that will make a person a little misty, and I started to wonder if the creators of these shows are really just black hearted, soulless, torturous assholes who wish to make adults sad.

Look at Inside Out. I know loads of kids and adults loved that movie, but it was far from a happy tale. The little girl the emotions belonged to was clearly depressed, AND THERE WAS NO REAL RESOLUTION AT THE END. I hated that one. It reminded me and millions of others of our terrible early teen years. Who makes a movie like that?

Oh that's right, the original buttfaces who gave us tearjerkers like Bambi, The Fox and The Hound, Lion King, and Dumbo. Then they made Andy grow up and get over playing with all of his toys. Jerks. I guess they weren't satisfied with the damage they did to our feels with the first Toy Story, because they made two more.

There was also Up. We don't talk about the crying that happens in my house when that one comes on. It was so not meant for children. They just can't get the complexity of the grumpy old man.

And what about when Ray dies in The Princess and The Frog? He finally gets to be with Evangeline. Insert multiple crying emojis.

My point is, we are all gluttons for punishment and the kid flick creators know it. So they stab at our feels while entertaining our children, AND WE PAY THEM FOR IT.

Wimpy, wimpy, wimpy.

Today I am coming at you from an over caffeinated state. I drank a Red Bull, and now I’m having coffee. I am pregaming for my loooonnngggg day. I’m a bundle of nerves, as I have a ton of stuff happening, and my financial well being is going to be determined by the day’s outcome. Also, we start training for the drive thru at work this week. And while I am surprised at my excitement, I am super worried about to how it is going to go the first few times.

It’s stressful. I need the boost. Don’t judge me.

Anyway, Halloween is upon us. This means I’m watching and reading everything spooky. This also means I am having crazy nightmares, because I’m a wimp.

I didn’t even watch anything scary yesterday, but I threw around the idea of reading The Diary of Ellen Rimbauer, which explains why I had horrible dreams about going to some weird estate sale and finding an original copy of an Ed and Lorraine Warren book that was about some murders and Lycanthropy that occurred in my home town.

First of all, the Warrens worked with demons. B, werewolves aren’t scary. So I’m not sure why it was so terrifying, but Lilly Rabe was in it. And she was the evil nun she played in AHS: Asylum. Except for she was actually convincing in my dream, unlike in the show.

 Side note Rabe should just stick to playing good hearted characters. She just seems too sweet to be evil.

Tonight I think I’ll watch a Disney princess movie in hopes that I don’t have any more nightmares involving the Warrens. Not that I don’t absolutely admire their work, I just don’t feel like waking up screaming again.

Sunrises, Travel, and Dreams.

Hello Dear Reader. Today has been rather rough. I woke up hangry and overwhelmed. But I’m feeling much better now that I’ve had a nice long nap. I had a hard time writing this morning. I had loads of topics, but nothing seemed to sound right once it was on paper. And then I thought, why not just ramble?

Because your mind is like one of those toys for kids in the doctor’s office with the beads that you move across the intertwined wires, Alex. That’s why we don’t ramble on the blog.

So, I guess I won’t just type whatever.

Anyway, I’m staring out my living room window right now. It’s a sunny, windy, typical Fall day in Oklahoma, and I wish I was out enjoying it. I think today would have been the perfect day for getting up before the sun, finding a place to watch the sunrise, and snapping a few pictures while drinking coffee and enjoying the stillness.

I know I talk about sunrises all the time, but morning really is my favorite time of the day. And in my opinion, sunrises are a thousand times more beautiful than sunsets. Sunsets remind me of loss and heartache. But sunrises remind me of all the possibilities and paths that are in my life. Sunrises are comforting.

I am aware of how silly that sounded. It is how I truly feel. Cut me some slack.

I think it would be amazing to travel around the country and capture the sunrise everyday. Just getting to travel a little would be amazing. The wanderer in my soul is getting a little restless lately. I haven't left Oklahoma in 3 years, and it would be a nice change of scenery to get the hell out of Mayes County and see what this world has to offer.

I’m a little envious of those who can afford to travel. It isn’t a luxury I have in my life. Having a small child and a dog means I am strapped to Mayes County for awhile. Not that that is a bad thing or that I regret it. I just wish that I would have moved around some more before I had Robbie.

My soul needs to experience something moving, and it is hard to come by such events around here. Unless of course it is a tragedy. We, unfortunately, have plenty of those to go around. I guess that is why people leave the towns the grew up in, isn't it? To escape the monotonous, and tragic.

Maybe one day I will be able to leave this area and see what is out there. For now I will just continue to watch the sunrises and stare out my living room window.

Work Hard, Dress Smart.

I don't normally post on Thursdays, but today was a pretty good day, so why not? I'm window shopping on Amazon, which is something I usually reserve for purses, shoes, and watches, but today is different. Today I am totally looking at power suits. Yes, you read that right, I am looking at all things business professional. After years of working in the finance realm, I enjoy a pair of good quality, reasonably priced slacks, and the hunt is always challenging finding said slacks.

When I was a little girl growing up in the 90's, everything was all about girl power (thank you Spice Girls), so obviously I imagined myself as some big shot businesswoman with a corner office, a $200 haircut, and a wardrobe so sharp it would make you scream "owe!" when I walked by. This was also partly influenced by my mother who was a big shot businesswoman. Except, back then, I saw myself doing something with writing or music, and my mom worked for a rather successful trucking company (more on that later, because there is a hilarious story to go along with power clothing) so I was SO not going that route because it sounded boring. Anywho, I assumed by the time I was 25 I'd be a record label executive on Music Row, or an editor at some publishing firm in New York. And yet, here I sit, 25 years old, in a rocking arm chair I inherited from my grandmother, on my day off from my low man on the totem pole job, one town away from the one I grew up in, flat broke, and writing a blog on the iPad I could only afford because its cost was rolled into my tuition at the college I dropped out of.

Sounds depressing, right? Well you're wrong. Yeah, so I'm not where I assumed I'd be. But I didn't actually make the plans to get there when I was a kid. Now that I'm older, and less naïve, I realize being a top dog in any company at 25 years old is pretty freakin' rare, and takes so much more time and dedication than I had to give until recently. Also, those young professionals who did make it to the top early probably devoted their hard earned high school job cash to their wardrobe, and I didn't. I spent mine on cheap whiskey and take out, and one fire red designer handbag (That bag was life. I wish I still had it.)

I know you're wondering about that last sentence, hopefully not about the whiskey and take out, or the handbag part, trust me my mother was kept in the dark about those shenanigans, but seriously dressing the part is crucial. I went to high school with a kid we all swore would be president some day. This kid was hardly ever seen in anything but nicely pressed oxfords and creased jeans. Guess what, that guy turned out to be pretty darn successful as an adult. Why? Well he worked really hard, and he dressed very smart.

I watched a Ted Talk once about power posing and its impact on your confidence. Basically the speaker, Amy Cuddy, found through a study that standing in positions that symbolized power, you could increase your self confidence a little. Totally makes sense right? Well I wondered if the same went for dressing well, and I conducted my own little experiment through out my many interviews I've had in the last few months. And it works. I felt like I looked like I owned/belonged/was perfect for whatever position I was interviewing for, which made me more confident in my abilities, and made my interviews go as smooth as silk. Clearly I didn't get any of those jobs, but I did get recognition on my professionalism/humor, and my attire more than once. All of that inflated my already rather large ego to XXXL, and I have had even better interviews since. Dressing smarter also made me feel more comfortable with myself in front of total strangers who wanted to know every little detail about my work history, and a few details about my blog.

So I'm assuming there is a lot to be said about a person who dresses for the job all the time, and I'm wondering if I should start stocking up on power suits to aid in my efforts to the top. Which brings us back full circle to my window shopping on Amazon. My only problem is, who has the cash to drop on a slick suit, and then pay to get it altered? I certainly don't...not yet at least.

Kids Suck.

I know, I know, I'm posting later than I usually do. Sorry about that. I have a legit reason though. I usually write/edit on Sunday afternoons, because I'm typically off work. But I wasn't off yesterday. And I'm not sure if it's allergies or a cold, but I started feeling terrible Saturday, so after work yesterday I sat under my heated blanket on the couch and re-watched Making A Murderer.

Can you forgive me? I promise next week I will post on time!

Anyway, I'm watching my kiddo run around the living room, and I keep having this vision of the weird kid at school who runs everywhere...and they run really funny. That is probably Robbie's future, unfortunately. Her dad claims to have been the weird kid, and he is not athletic. I was just generally disliked. I wan't weird, and I was pretty athletic, but I just didn't fit in. Not that I cared, I was too busy listening to the most emo music possible while smearing eyeliner all over my face and spiking up my boy short hair in an attempt to look as "punk" as possible.

I actually looked pretty cute with spikey hair. Just in case you were wondering. And I was a total bad ass.

Anyway I'm telling you all of this is because I was reminded of just how hard school actually was for me, and I hope my daughter has an easier time than I did.

Kids are total assholes, did you know that? I was bullied left and right from elementary all the way up to graduation. In eighth grade, a kid pantsed me in the hallway while I was stapling stuff up on a wall. It was embarrassing, only for the fact that I totally was wearing a thong, and it had been revealed to everyone. My bad reputation was solidified.

*Intercom comes on "That's right classmates, Alex Jones is a confirmed delinquent. SHE WEARS THONGS."* Que the pearl clutching and shocked/distraught gasps.

Thankfully no one, but the jack ass who pantsed me, thought it was funny. Although I'm sure if any of you who witnessed this incident are reading, you're laughing hysterically.

Stop laughing. It still isn't funny.

Okay, maybe it's a little funny now.

In a high school English class, a girl told me how I was single handedly responsible for creating some guy's reputation as a "male slut". I swiftly replied how it was ironic that her family could afford to buy anything they wished for, but they chose not to buy her liposuction after she got fat.

I was the asshole there, and so was everyone else in the class, because they all laughed.

My point is, kids are such jerks, and I'm kind of horrified at what my daughter's future could be like. I know it is many years down the road, but how do I prepare for all the crap she might face? Do I just keep hoping that Robbie will be well liked, a good student, and a nice person? This parenting gig has some really rough stuff you have to deal with, and I often wonder if I will make enough good calls to lead her down a happy, successful road.

I guess we will see what happens, right?