Through The Years We All May Be Together

Tuesday marks my 25th Christmas. Twenty-five Christmas Eves. Twenty-Five Douglass Firs covered in tinsel and lights and various ornaments I've collected over the years (mostly of the Barbie variety) and 25 years of family traditions.

Because this blog may someday serve as a journal for my posterity, I decided to chronicle some of the traditions we Wallaces do each and every year as the advent calendar makes it way down to December 25th.

Something to note before I kick it off is that we have always spent the holidays in California. My Grandparents lived in Colorado the entire time I was growing up, so it's always been just the five of us out here in the golden state.

Leaving milk, cookies and carrots for Santa + Co: One of my favorite feelings from childhood is the intense anticipation of Kris Kringle making his way down our (nearly non-existent) chimney. My parents always made me go to bed fairly early, but I would lay in bed for hours listening for those silly reindeer and the clickety-clack of their little feeties. I'll never forget getting up in the middle of the night to use the little girls room and quickly turning away from the direction of the living room lest I catch Santa in the act--how horrifying!

In the morning, my brothers and I would wake up to our cookies and carrots gone with the wind and a note detailing the gratitude of the fat man and his pets.

Watching a Muppet's Christmas Carol: Okay so this one's like a little embarrassing to admit, but the Wallace clan love love LOVES the Muppets and their Christmas Carol. We laugh, we cry, we enjoy.

Every year.

Opening each and every present. One by one: There's truly nothing more excruciating as a six year old than having to wait while her big brothers open their socks and deodorant. That's real. Bless my sweet parents for trying to teach me patience and that the world does not revolve around me (did I get that memo?) and making us all wait our turns as we each opened a present, "ooed" and "ahhed," and then someone else took a turn.

It was actually great because it made Christmas morning last like hours. Especially in the later years right before my oldest brother went on his mission and I was an older child (we're almost nine years apart) because I really understood what was happening and that this wasn't going to last forever.

You only have a certain amount of time together as a nuclear family before the inevitable changes of life creep up and sweep you away into adulthood. I am so grateful for those long, drawn-out Christmas mornings. Which were followed by...

Breakfast: So, as an adult I realized that tons of people have some sort of casserole situation (is this a Utah thing?) but we always had breakfast sandwiches, complete with english muffins, a poached egg, cheese, canadian bacon and in later years, Tapatilo. Mother would sneak into the kitchen a few minutes before all of the gifts would open and start cooking.

I actually can't wait for them this year.

I've always loved the holidays. The lights, the decorations, the wreath on the door. Mumsy has always gone all out when it comes to decorating the house, trimming the tree and making it smell like Christmas morning all month.

Now that I am away from home, and have been for nearly seven years, I have come to see how important it is to have these traditions within a family for everyone to hold on to. We've all grown up and moved away, but we'll aways have these little things we do to remind us of how much we love this time of year.

xoxo

jury duty, jury duty, black mail, chain letter, eviction notice...

Bonus points if you can figure out which of my favorite Christmas movies this post is titled after.

Well, the holidays are in full swing, and you know what that means: parties. A PLENTY.

And we all know that of course, I love a soiree. Of any kind, really. I like parties that are decadently planned and require a man in a black tie, and I also love an impromptu get-together where the guys and girls just happen to be over and the pizza is being  passed around.

But I do especially love holiday parties. There's something so magical about grabbing a little black dress, putting on some Kate Spade Twirl perfume and slipping on some red pumps before you grab a man and dash out into the snow fog for an evening of mistletoe and reindeer games (if you're lucky.)

This year is/was no exception. Not unsurprisingly, the par-tays are not over (still have my office one!) and then holidays at the Wallace's are always sure to be...eventful. But before I whisk away to my hometown for some quality time with the niece and nephew, here's a round-up of the festivities so far.

Part One: The Nutcracker

I love the ballet. Like, LOVE the ballet. It's by far my favorite form of performance. There's nothing like the Nutcracker to get you in the Christmas spirit.

 The ladies of luxury strike again!

Also to note, I found out we were going last-minute. That's why I'm in like a sun dress. 

For an additional account of this evening, please see the wonderful and talented blog of one Ms. Charity Eyre.

Part Two: The Mistletoe Party

I mean, what more can I say? Kisses, eggnog and debauchery: check.

The ladies of 850 A

Part Three: The White Party

I love a white party as much as the next girl, though my collection of white soiree items is a bit limited, given that we are well beyond Labor Day. Oh well, caution to the wind. It's the holidays!

You can't really see our white outfits, but they are there

More to come, as the season wears on.

xoxo

it's okay to be sad.

on a daily basis, i experience a lot of emotions. some would even go so far as to say that i am dripping with enthusiasm.

which i am.

i wake up tired, but excited. i get impatient as i wait for the muni, but feel relief as it comes over the hill.   i look forward to a diet coke before 10 am, and watch the clock with anticipation if i am meeting a friend for lunch. lastly, i am grateful when the day is over and i can crawl into bed and enjoy a peaceful slumber.

but sometimes, something makes me real sad. unexpectedly, even. like in the blink of an eye something changes and turns everything around to a place of deep-sighing and eye-rolling. like all of a sudden what once was, isn't.

and it makes you real, real sad. and not just like, "oh someone drank the last diet coke my life is over," or "i let my iPhone soak in 20 oz of water for 10 hours," kind of sad. like, takes your breath away and makes you feel like your lungs are going to collapse, sad.

but i'm here to say, it's okay to be sad. it means you still have hope. it means you care, or cared, enough about something. it shows that your heart is open and your soul is alive.

it means the passion is still within you, and the drive to be happy and have the life you always imagined is within your reach. it says, "i haven't given up, i'm still fighting for this."

it shows you still believe. and as long as you still believe, you're going to be okay.

xoxo

The Princess Diaries: Why I Love Wills and Kate

I've not had ONE single second to write a formal post on this week's royal announcement. Which should tell you what an absolutely insane week it's been.

That said, thought I'd recycle a post from July 2011 on the Duke and Dutchess to make a quick tribute to my favorite parents-to-be.

It’s no secret that I am obsessed with this dynamic duo.

I’ve been talking about Wills and Kate ever since their engagement was formally announced last November, and more so in the past four months as their wedding has been planned, performed and now, passed.

So, why the fascination-like, what’s the deal?

Well, there are several factors at play here.

First and foremost, I have always been an anglophile. Not to be confused with an anglophone -though I am one of those too by virtue of my US birth-but a person who has a fetish for the Brits.

I went overseas for the first time in my life when I was 15, and it was a trip with mumsy to jolly old England.

The minute we landed at Heaththrow and met my Aunt (who by the way was a total trooper driving in her wrong-side-of-the-road Volvo), I knew it would change me forever.

Those two weeks were the start of something new. Since my Aunt and Uncle were amidst their tour with the Air Force, we had the fabulous opportunity to stay in a charming English cottage in the most darling London suburb.

We spent our days riding the train into London, jumping on the tube, visiting the British museum and of course, found ourselves at Harrod’s far more than was appropriate.

As dramatic as it sounds, those two weeks were a turning point for me. I knew I needed more than an entire life spent in the States. I felt like I was destined to be an ex-pat; maybe not forever, but for spurts of time.

Back to the Duke and Dutchess.

When mother and I were across the pond, Harry and William were everywhere. On postcards, in the media and on my boy-crazy teenage girl mind.

Turns out that year was Will’s first year at St. Andrews, and Harry was only two years ahead of me in school. Most people bade me farewell with a “try and woo a prince,” or “if you see Wills, get a picture.”

Even here in the States, we have always kept an eye on those real-life princes. They are the fairly tale of my generation.

More importantly, let’s talk about my admiration for Kate Middleton.

Not only did she have the patience to wait just shy of a decade for her charming prince, she did it with style, class and the perfect stilettos.

Humble and unassuming, Kate has been all smiles ever since the pair announced their engagement and she began her stride into the life of a full-fledged royal.

You can always count on her pearly whites to flash during any and all official palace engagements; plus, she and Wills manage to be practically giddy when they sneak in a sweet smirk (or smooch!) during their everyday not-so-private life.

At the risk of sounding like the side of Starbucks cup, the way I see it is this: Kate is in love with William despite, and not because of, his status as the future King of England.

By all counts, she appears to be hardworking, humble, devoted, tenacious, smart, sweet and willing to go the extra mile for her hubby-which I think is an excellent relationship quality whether or not your husband is royalty.

If you haven’t noticed, the press seems to be unnaturally obsessed with how Kate does all of their grocery shopping-and I think this is why. The fact that Great Britain still has a King and Queen is, in and of itself, a little old-world (read: ridiculous).

Not to mention the fact that they employ hundreds (probably thousands) of servants, ladies-in-waiting, housekeepers, nannies and various other waitstaff for the upkeep of their homes and families.

This wouldn’t be a big deal or seem out of the ordinary, until you hear the story of how Prince Charles never put the toothpaste on his own toothbrush.

Yeah, that’s real.

Wills and Kate are determined to be different, and I love it. Kate does all their cooking, Wills has a career in the Royal Air Force (remember, they postponed their honeymoon because he had to be back at work on Monday?) and famously, instead of wedding gifts, they asked for money to be donated to their charities.

Basically, I could go on and on. Speaking as a former British colonist, I can say I whole-heartedly approve (and obsess over) this match.

May their rein as Wills and Kate be long and fabulous... and may Kate continue to single-handedly bring back the nude pump.

Gobble, Gobble.

Oh hey, Thanksgiving. Didn’t see you there.

I’ve been waiting for you for so, so long. Where have you been all my life?

In the spirit of the season,  I thought I’d take a sec to put proverbial pen to paper and make some notes about the things I am grateful for. 

Of course, my amazing family. More specifically, my incredible parents. Not only did these two give me the gift of life (that’s a bit graphic) but they gave me everything I have and made me everything I am. 

They’ve always had incredible patience, which is probably the most vital quality one must have when dealing with me. They have been my biggest supporters in many, many ways and have been the only constant in my life. They are the first ones to dish out a healthy dose of tough love (thanks, Dad) but also the first ones to give comfort in tough times. 

I am forever grateful that I am celestially involved with them.

Mumsy and I in Aix-en-Provence

My ward family. Hmmmm, where to start? I am so privileged to know and love some of the most fabulous young people in the city. My ward family is really my San Francisco family: the people who love and support me in everyday ways. 

They, like my parents, are the first to dole out a little tough love when I get a knocked off course a bit, but are also the ones I go to when things go either fantastically wrong or ridiculously right. I share with them the everyday joys of seeing the sunset over the Golden Gate Bridge, eating mexican food and attending family home evening.

They make San Francisco home.

Incredible friends. I thought about folding friends into the ward family category, but I've had many, many friends over the years not of my faith that have taught me the most incredible lessons about life and love. There are so many people throughout high school and college that changed and shaped my perspective of the way the world works and taught me how to love unconditionally. 

Here's to celebrating our 8th birthday as besties

My education, both in the states and abroad. I know, I know. That France thing, again. 

Humor me?

Not many kids get the opportunity to study abroad twice. After spending eight weeks in southwest France, I made the decision to spend the year in Aix-en-Provence. My parents mom didn't bat an eye at the thought of going back, though my Dad did take some convincing. I believe his exact words were, "well, if you and your mother are united on this, there's not much I can do about it, eh?"

I am forever grateful for the experiences I had overseas. Living amongst another culture taught me an incredible amount about myself and definitely gave me the world view I have now. Plus, it forever made me addicted to traveling.

I am equally as grateful for the opportunity I had to attend Chico State and BYU-I and graduate, and for my parent’s sacrifices, support and excellent advice. My six years in college (save your judgement for later, please) were some of the best of my life thus far, and my sweet memories of those times will stay with me for a long time.

Arriving at SFO after a year away

My job. This one’s a bit of a no-brainer, but I am of course incredibly blessed to have a job in a city I am in love with, doing exactly what I studied in school. I have coworkers that make the deal even sweeter by making me laugh, talking me off a ledge and generally being available via Gchat for...whatever. 

The gospel. Last, but farthest from least, I am so grateful that my young, married parents met with the missionaries some 37 years ago and made the decision to join the church. My life, as well as the lives of generations to come, will be blessed by their decision and their unwavering love and loyalty for the gospel. I am so grateful for the knowledge that families are forever and that there is power that is greater than me.  

And with that, ‘tis time to mash the potatoes. 

xoxo

What It’s Like to Date A Girl Who’s In PR

I was recently ridiculously inspired by a blog post that was artfully and hilariously penned by a dear friend about how to date a Mormon entrepreneur. Reading his words of course got me thinking about what it's like to date/marry a girl who's in PR.

There have been several posts about what it’s like to date a PR babe, including some from a few of my personal favorite blogs, like PR Daily and NYC PR Girls. 

We ladies of publicity are a specific breed and all share some of the same basic qualities. It takes a specific kind of person to manage agency life. It gets hectic, can be incredibly stressful and because of the nature of working in client service, can cause us to be late to dinner occasionally. 

So, in reading all of these, I'm all: what would I want my future BF to know? 

Slash, not just a significant other, but how could I explain these to friends so we could understand one another better?

 See below. 

We bullet out everything.

And I mean everything. (Wait, am I doing it right now?)

Even a whimsical love note left on a pillow would look something like this: 

Hi Babe, 

Hope you have a great day! I love you for the following reasons: 

-  you're incredible

- we love all the same things 

- I dig your bod

       - especially your nose, hair, eyes, lips, arms

            - oh wait, that’s like, everything

- your laugh kills me

- you're literally fantastic 

I’ll circle back with you later to discuss with some further detail.

Best,

Your PR Girlfriend. 

We have the most annoying optimism.  

What's that? Four reporters hung up on us and three made us cry with multiple expletives? No problem! We'll send over that press release and screen shots just in case they change their mind. You never know! 

Couple that with our sheer tenacity and and general go-gettedness and you have a girlfriend who rarely fails to see the silver lining.

Sometimes even I say to myself, “oh hey girl, if you look on the bright side one more time, imma shank you.” 

Service is our natural love language. 

We got into PR because we like doing things for and on behalf of others. We do our best to anticipate needs before they come up, and take care of them as soon as we possibly can. 

That said, we are used to taking direction from others. So, tell us how to help you. And for the love of all that is good, please be explicit. 

We will be your loudest cheerleader. Period. 

We become devoted fans of the brands we represent and find out as much as we can about the industry in which we work in order to be effective brand managers. Samsies goes for you. We'll do our best to support you in every way we can by doing our homework on how we can help. 

Since our job is to get publicity for our clients, we also may or may not take any chance we have to spread the word about how attractive/talented/thoughtful you are. 

Hopefully you're up for being publicly praised. 

Contrary to popular belief, you don't have to be in constant communication with us. 

Yes, we LOVE Gchat, but we also love you. 

Give us a chance to miss you. Let us wonder how your day is going.  Constant access to someone can take away that heart-pounding anticipation. 

Don't worry if you don't get back to us right away. We can wait. 

Truth or truth, we’re wound a little tight. 

PR is a lot about constantly staying ahead of things, so we do tend to get a little over zealous when it comes to planning. Being ahead of the curve is something we live and breathe, so cut us a liiiitttllleee slack if we're already talking about next Christmas before we deck the halls this year. 

We do our best to lock it down. 

There are plenty of other need to knows about dating a PR girl (don't be surprised if our alarm goes off and we roll over to check our Google Alerts, you'll get used to it) but those are biggies, I'd say. 

To note, some of these could just be a function of me and my personality. I mean, there's a reason we pick the careers we do. It's likely I would be this way even if I wasn't a media maven,  but working in PR helps me exist in my natural habitat. 

Until next time.

xoxo

No Doubt About It

I cry a lot.

I've always been a crier. Ever since I was a little gal I've been telling people, "I know, I know! I have hyper-sensitive tear ducts," which is, by the way, totally not a real thing.

I remember when I flew to Seattle in August and the mere sight of the International Terminal at SFO made my lip quiver with emotion as the memories of flights to Paris and London came flooding back. I was literally on the air train from BART fighting tears as I was about to head out to what would be one of the best vacations of my life.

RIDICULOUS. 

Well, samsies happened last weekend as I was sitting in Terminal 1 (which is NO Terminal 2, let me tell ya!) reading Sheri Dew's book, No Doubt About It. I grabbed it on a whim as I headed out the door early Saturday morning to catch my flight to Orange County, and as I sat there reading the first few chapters, I found myself once again smearing my mascara as my emotions got the best of me.

Have you read that book? If not, you should. 

It's mainly directed at the women of the church, but all members could benefit from Sheri's incredible humor, unfailing optimism and devotion to the gospel. Her ability to relate every day life and the choices we make to gospel principles is unmatched by any other Latter Day Saint author (in my opinion). 

Though I am only halfway through, her words have already had an impact on my life. The back of the book jacket reads:

"Life is filled with moments of joy, but life is also hard. It is an unmistakable privilege to be here in mortality, but the burden we carry is weighty, relentless and laden with importance. So I pose two questions: What have we come here to do? And how will we do it?"

Those two questions are referenced throughout the book as Sheri takes readers trough many pages of examples and anecdotes that help define the answers. She pens powerful words about growing a testimony, preparing to receive personal revelation, overcoming disappointment and heartache and living your best life. I hadn't even planned to bring it along, but after two chapters, I couldn't put it down.

One part that was particularly impactful, and the syllables that when put together made me originally well up at Gate 30, was a quote from President Hinckley, which said, "You are good. But it is not enough just to be good. You must be good for something. You must contribute good to the world. The world must be a better place for your presence. And that good that is in you must be spread to others."

I sat there, in that weird plastic airport chair, thinking of the good that had been spread to me, by others. 

In particular, I of course thought about my visiting teaching companion, for whom I was making the journey down to Newport, as she was getting married in a matter of hours. I thought of all the wonderful weeknights we shared over the course of the year we've been companions, driving around the city, visiting our girls, chatting about our lives and enjoying one another. 

I also thought of my wonderful visiting teachers, without whom I'm not sure I would have kept coming to church. I'll never forget the day they ambushed me in Relief Society and demanded we be friends. I am forever grateful to those girls.

Even now, as I write this post, I am a bit emotional. But, as with all personality quirks, we must embrace what has been gifted to us, as we all have something that someone else needs.

I mean yes, I cry a lot. But is that really so bad? Mostly, I'm so grateful that I love things and people enough to cry about them.

Dramatic, much?

xoxo