Currently in June

The drive up to Silver Lake

Sometimes I feel like it's just been forever since I've sat down and wrote about life.  Those are always the entries that I enjoy reading from others, as well as the ones of my own I enjoy going back to look over.  I will attempt to collect my very scatter-brained thoughts. 

New Job
Work is really the biggest thing I have neglected to talk about.  I'll give a bit of an overview.  Essentially I worked for over a year at a company that had a lot of great, and a LOT of terrible.  The good was good but the bad was absolutely insane.  I learned a ton about myself, about being a good EMT, and about how to be more professional at work, which has always been something I've struggled with--I think it's a foster care thing.  The most important thing I learned was that if I'm not doing something I feel is relevant and important I am absolutely miserable.  

I applied for a job back in February or March and was completely blown away when I got an interview.  The company is right on the Great Salt Lake and it's very dangerous, smelly, sweaty plant work.  The position was EMT Security and though I have plenty of experience, I just figured this testosterone-heavy, middle-of-nowhere place with only male officers, wouldn't want a young female with an accent.  Maybe I don't give myself enough credit, but either way I was ecstatic when I got a call back with a firm "maybe" and then maybe a week or so later, a job offer.  

The job wouldn't begin until the end of May, however, and this offer was given to me in April.  So cue a month of me waiting in agony, writhing around at the prospect of actually being somewhere I enjoyed.  I thought of all the things that could go wrong and I even talked about my horrendous drug test experience in a video awhile back.  During this time period instead of killing myself with worry, I decided to look at the fact that these guys, all with 20+ years in safety, the company, and hiring management, picked me.  Even if I failed utterly, they had faith in me and it really meant the world to me.

Me and scenery on the way home from work, and my old boss stacking praise on my new boss's comment

So how's the job? Well, it's everything I ever dreamed of.  It's crazy actually, how great it is and how wonderful the people are.  My supervisor is a very deadpan and direct guy who has never once made me feel like a dumb new person.  The managers have all stopped by to talk to me and most importantly, everything feels so genuine.  I remember specifically sitting down in the hiring manager's office on my first day, after the loooooooooooong fight of actually starting the job.  He asked me how everything was, and he wasn't talking about just work.  I said something to the effect of "Well, I'm just thrilled that my professional life is taking off.  It's all a mess, and my personal life still is, but now I've got this" and his reply was "When one comes, the other usually follows, so hang in there."

Strangely enough this ended up being eerily prophetic, and not just a heartfelt and nice comment.  My personal life has picked up and I've been oddly social (not like me at all.)  I seriously haven't felt this young and outgoing in...well...ever.  I went to a Dutch Oven cookout at work, I got accepted into a pinup contest (that got rained out, oh well!) I took Chase to Black Rock, I got a floating desk for my bedroom and decked it all out into a gorgeous vanity, I of course went and visited Silver Lake for the spring.  And this weekend is already planned out--showing Chase Fallout 4, having a slumber party at the house, going to Lagoon Saturday for our company day....I'm so excited for doing stuff on my days off.  Is that what normal people do? Is this life without a blocked wall of mental illness? Or is it just a summer thing?

To be honest, this is the area of my life that has been suffering.  I haven't written a (meaningful) blog post in forever, I haven't painted, I haven't written.  I can't seem to focus on any of it and when I do have time off, I'm spending it with people instead of at my desk painting.  This makes me sad because I don't feel like myself if I'm not creating.  However I keep telling myself everything ebbs and flows, and hopefully soon I will find my balance.  I have after all, been mostly focused on learning the job and its rhythms.

I've also been thinking about where to go with writing about foster care.  It's been almost three years since I published my e-book, and that was mostly meant to be a quick pocket guide or something prospective foster parents could read in a class.  Now I'm considering something more, but I'm not sure exactly what.  When I released that ebook, I remember it being during a different period for blogging.  The net has changed since then, and as far as blogging goes, not for the better.  I'm not a fan of the shilling posts, of the ads for detergent, or the expressionless posts that are so obviously sponsored.  Also not a fan of Top Ten's or shock value posts--genuine blog writing is on a long downswing so I should be looking elsewhere for an audience.  And that--marketing--is not my forte.  But it's part of how you get people to read what you have to say, so I'll take any advice on that front.

Summer Plans
Derik, my oldest, best, and dearest friend, has a birthday coming up in July and I've finally got the funds and schedule to take him to Las Vegas.  It's something I know he's wanted for ages, but in part due to me running all over the globe and doing god knows what, I wasn't in a position to take him.  Luckily I've done a New Vegas tour before, with Henri, so I know all the places that were awesome and all of the 'meh' spots.  A few winners:  Gordon Ramsay's BurGR, that adorable polar bear Coca Cola guy, Hoover Dam, and going on top of the Stratosphere.  We're also going to do a few things I didn't get a chance to do the first round, like going to the Mob museum and riding the monorail.

It feels really fantastic to be able to take my friend out of his hometown and show him a little bit more of the Mojave.  Not only because we are Fallout fanatics and he will love seeing the real-life counterparts of the game, but also because, goddammit it's LAS VEGAS!! That's the trip of a lifetime for anyone.  It's quite the city.  I would consider living there if I didn't love Salt Lake so much (although to be honest I would only consider it as a temporary spot, for a few years, ain't gonna retire in Vegas, no thanks) but I know Derik will enjoy it and so my excitement to drag him around and make him look at stuff is growing day by day.

I know I harp on a lot about my cat on this blog (he even has his own entry) but I just have to plug him here for a minute and say again what a blessing he has been.  He's older and bigger and far less dependent on me now than he was back in my crumbled mental health crisis, but he still comes when I call, he still purrs and nuzzles me and we still have a very real bond.  Like me not being able to go pee without seeing him stick his paw under the door bond.  Haha.  I know a lot of people have a lot of good to say about how much their kid helps their mental health, or their spouse, but for me? Cat.  I don't have to spill to him about my hard day, I don't have to talk to him about bills or how anxiety feels like crushing yourself with a bookshelf a la Suzanne on OITNB, I just pet his furry little head and all is good for a little while.



When Henri first told me the word maskrosbarn he automatically translated it into English, thus calling me during our conversation, a “dandelion child.” I had never heard the term but assumed it was along the same lines as the English term “flower child” and giggled at it. I also thought it was a very flamboyant thing to come from someone like Henri--he’s as direct as a straight line on a level. I can’t remember how, but the word got brought up again with Nairi some time later, but this time it was “maskrosbarn.”

At the time my Swedish was poor enough that I only understood “barn” (children) but Nairi explained the term--it mean “Someone like you, Alex” who had no roots but still grew, like the flower. Incidentally the dandelion is also the symbol for the Green Party in Sweden (Miljöpartiet de gröna) and Carl explained that it was their symbol for the same reason. A dandelion can grow with very little needs, and can thrive in places like sidewalk cracks and concrete lots. I suddenly recalled Henri’s praise and realized he wasn’t just calling me a flower child. When someone uses the term maskrosbarn they are acknowledging the person had little support or chance to succeed in life, but that he or she did.

In America, I grew up first in poverty and then in the foster care system. Both realms of my childhood are ignored by our society, almost completely. If people got as up in arms about barefoot, terrified, hungry, dirty, worm and lice-ridden children as they did contraception or political correctness, kids like me would actually have a chance. But no one does. I lived this life and I live in our society so I can tell you how pathetic the awareness, let alone, the intervention is. I can’t really speak of the awareness or support of those families in Sweden, because in my experience, anyone in that country who knows about my past is simply horrified and baffled and can’t even relate in a way that makes me feel like some kind of alien or monster. Sweden is a very wealthy and even spoiled place, and I didn’t ever see the foster care system or any kind of forgotten-about-society like the one I grew up in. Americans by contrast are mostly aware of these parts of society. We live and exist much closer to poverty than our big Viking cousins.

And yet the first-world Swedes were the ones who had the word. They actually had a word for people like me, a good word. It wasn’t “meth baby” or “foster kid” (ew) or “at-risk youth” or “juvenile delinquent” or “hillbilly.” It was a beautiful term that by its definition praised the resilience and honored the struggle of a child without the bare minimum needs to survive and much less thrive. I can’t explain how it has haunted me my entire adulthood to be called a plethora of things and to hear over and over “you overcame the odds” in a blank, echo-y manner. It’s not that I doubt people are impressed or encouraged by my success story as it were, but when you hear this your whole life, being called “at-risk” or “damaged” and hearing “you know most people with a story like that are on drugs or on the street” and that's what you get--when suddenly you hear yourself being called a “dandelion child”...the difference is pretty stark.  It meant the world to me.  It still does.  It was like being acknowledged truly for the first time.

I go over and over in my head whether I’m grateful for my experiences, or if I wish they’d never happened. It’s not an easy question to answer. The one thing I have realized is that who I am, that child deprived of a healthy growing environment, will always be a large piece of me. And that part of me hurts, and will always hurt. Van Gogh said to his brother before he died, “The sadness will last forever.” Once I accepted this and stopped fighting it, I really did feel more peace. I have a few friends who have come from similar situations as me, and even though some of us have never met in person, they share the same sentiments. It seems that part of the recipe for success for maskrosbarn is recognizing stark, unhappy and displeasurable truth. Others do it with grace; something I hope to imitate.

Living in pain sounds like a death sentence sometimes. Sometimes it is and I just get lucky enough to pull through it. But the other quote I like to draw from, if as grim, is a bit more optimistic. (And it’s from a video game, of course.)

I can’t change the fact that I was born a dandelion, and not a rose or a peony or some other big and vibrant flower. But dandelions are resilient, grow without care, they are free as the wind and even though they’re considered to be a nuisance and a weed, they actually are helpful and medicinal, and even help other plants and flowers by bringing in bees and butterflies. At the end of the day I don’t mind being a maskrosbarn; I am independent and strong and can help. I just wish more of society could see people like me that way. In the meantime, I'll settle for seeing myself that way and allowing it to help me be a better person and help others.


Adventures in Salt Lake County

I know it's not what people usually hear from outsiders around here, but it's true: Salt Lake City and the surrounding cities have so much rich history.  I will never be able to feel as much "at home" anywhere in the world as I do here, and I swear I know more than the locals! When hanging out with Utah friends I'll go on some rant about this trading post or that mountain or this hanging or what have you and they are all virtually clueless.

With the tons of rain we've been getting (thanks Utah! I'm a big fan) I wanted to go out on a drive before I started my new job and snap some shoots in the Bingham canyon/Magna/west nothingness area.  I had a temporary job working out there and though it's not conventionally beautiful, I love the area.  It has an Americana vibe that you just don't get in the middle of the city, and perhaps moreso why I love it; it reminds me of Tennessee.  I don't even know why, but I suspect it's the curvy, twisting two lane roads which are not common in SLC, and the sleepy small town vibe of the whole area.

After we left that area, I wasn't done wandering so I just pointed to roads and Derik drove on them.  This ended up being hilarious, because we ended up in what I assume to be a meth-cooking Raider from Mad Max campground...it was literally just a pile of nothing and more nothing, just a wall of junk and a bunch of "STAY OUT" signs.  We met a few men on bicycles who were obviously dealing drugs, but they waved and were friendly, so I'm not sure who is the grouch telling everybody to leave the drug den.

It was all good until we reached a road that said "ASBESTOS DUMPING SITE KEEP OUT" and I took that one seriously.  Haha.


Dark Corner Productions Photoshoot

Several weeks ago I got to participate in my first bona-fide photoshoot!  Marcus, who runs Dark Corner Productions and Horror Junkies of Utah approached me with the idea and I was 100% sold.  It's no secret I've got a Gothic streak in me a mile wide, just ask anyone from high school (haha.)  Marcus specializes in anything dark and spooky, and he was looking to do a series based on women from the badass American Horror Story series.  If you watched the first season, you know the hot redheaded maid who seduces the boss and cleans up his "messes"? Yeaaaah.  She's the best. So I told Marcus yes so fast my head spun.

Actually the way I met Marcus was pretty funny--it was during my first car show last year.  It was around Halloween time and had a bit of a creepy/dressup theme, and that creep was walking around as Michael Myers, mask and knife and all.  Wimpy confession time, I reeeeeeeeally don't like masks. Facepaint is fine, horror/SFX makeup is fine, or just a regular old scary face is fine, but I get really unnerved at masks.  So of course Marcus did a great job of terrifying me whenever he walked by.  I wonder if he meets other people similarly?  First time we met I was wincing away in horror, second time we met I was in fishnet and cleaning up fake blood from his bathtub.  Haha.

Anyway, I don't have any sage wisdom for you about photoshoots since this was my first one.  I learned that holy cow, these things are hard work!  Not that I disbelieved (I've seen America's Next Top Model as much as the next girl) but I was sore afterward, especially in my core area, from holding poses.

If you want to see more photos from the shoot (I've left Marcus's watermark on them here) and more of his awesome work--this is a recent favorite of mine-- head over to his DeviantArt page.

Thank you Marcus for the opportunity and I'm sure I'll see you again soon! Hopefully without the mask....