Metlife has a new commercial which uses Nick Drake's song "Mayfair" as their playful, sentimental backdrop melody. As much as I appreciate the infamous Volkswagon commercial for introducing me to Nick Drake through "Pink Moon", more and more, I resent the use of his music in places like a Metlife commercial. And I am not the only one who thinks so.

By the way. In case you're interested. I had to really work to find out who Nick Drake was because no matter how many times I watched that Volkswagon commercial, I never saw any small white text telling me the name of the artist or a song title. I emailed Volkswagon, asking them for the information and receiving no reply back. I searched online, but didn't know what to search for. It wasn't until VH1 aired a segment titled "Classified", which discussed young artists who have passed away tragically due to suicide or drug overdoses. That was six months after I'd first heard Nick's sultry voice carrying that adorable Cabrio down a winding road, underneath a fake starry night sky.

I worked to find out who he was, and I resent anyone who hasn't. It's not fair of me, but it's true. Meh.

Let's go back. Way back. All the way back to the first week of September of this year. My dad and I ventured to Costco, store of bulk items, and I found myself staring at aisles (not aisle, but aisles) of Christmas decor. A short rack of Halloween costumes hung, untouched, disregarded behind the giant, blown-up Snow Man and a lit up Santa in Reindeer Sleigh.

It was September. Early September, too! And I could not understand how rich men and women in tall buildings are so money hungry that they were willing to start selling Christmas at a preposterous time of year, stripping the season of whatever non-commercialized spirit it has left.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and for me, that's when the holiday season truly starts. It isn't until after Thanksgiving that I'll start looking for things that remind me of this special time of year. Like smoke from a chimney, the scent of cinnamon, and twinkly lights adorning trees at the local mall. That is when I'll wear my scarves and use snowflake-colored eye shadow. I'll watch "A Christmas Story" on TBS, make hot cocoa, and listen to Amy Grant's Christmas album from 1992.

My first goal is to afford an actual Christmas tree. I won't wait until a week before Christmas to get one. If I can get one by the first day of December, I'll be happy. It's something I want to continue to appreciate and look forward to. Not as something commercialized and meaningless, like so many corporations have been doing in the last decade or two.

I decided a long time ago that if I can help it, I want to make every Christmas memorable, by doing something different every time. I am interested in memories, not a lot of gifts wrapped underneath the tree. I don't mind if that's what other people look forward to, but that's just not for me. I like the stuff the precedes Christmas.

Something my brother and I would always do was dance in the spare living room of our old house to the last track of that Amy Grant album. We would play it over and over until we were out of breath and needed a break. But it was so much fun, I'll never forget that feeling.

The other thing I loved to do was play with the miniature train that looped around the Christmas tree. It would produce a small tuft of smoke and I can still remember the way it made the room smell over time. I could play with that train for hours, placing my collection of Sylvanian teddy bear figurines in different train cars, waiting to see how long it was before they fell out.

Memories are what matter to me. I am tired of Christmas being overly commercialized, making the entire season stale and dry by the time December 25th actually arrives.

Let me put it this way. I would rather import my own snow and build my own snow man than buy one that can be set on a timer and blows up with air in my front yard. Snow is snow - it can't be replaced with air and plastic.

Ah! I forgot! My blog turned three years on Saturday... Happy belated to three years of dedicated dribble!

Last Tuesday, I went to a bank teller assessment with AmSouth Bank in downtown Chattanooga. I was one of three women being assessed. The recruiter, Shirley, appeared to be a generally nice lady, despite the vast amount of tightness she held in her face.

After filling out a general application, we three were told we would be watching a video with actors portraying tellers in a variety of situations and we would have multiple choice questions to answer. There would also be segments based on attention to check details, the ability to count currency, and an attitude test.

Before we started, Shirley asked if any of us had previous teller experience. I was the only one who raised a hand and when she asked where, I told her, "At Banner Bank in Seattle." It was a bank she'd never heard of, but she believed me.

Before taking the test, Shirley looked at me and said, "When you take this test, be careful not to answer the questions based on what you were taught at your previous bank. It's better to answer the questions as though you have no prior experience."

I answered, "Okay," but in my mind, I was asking, "How is that even possible?"

By the end of the test, I was ready to kick up my heels and say, "Of course you may hire me. I know you want to." I was that confident in my answers.

When it was all over, Shirley came and collected our tests. She told us they would be graded and she would come back with our scores.

About ten minutes later, Shirley came back and asked for me first. I followed her into her office and she asked about the kind of bank Banner was. I explained it was a smaller bank, more focused on the customer, maintaining a solid relationship with them instead of the amount in a customer's wallet--

"Well, you didn't score high enough on the test."

"..."

"And you won't be able to take the assessment again until six months from now."

"Can I see the test?"

"No. We fax them to our headquarters in Florida and they only send us the score back. I have no idea what questions you got right or wrong. All I know is the score."

"Hmm."

"That's very typical for someone who's been a teller before."

"Well, thank you for your time, Shirley." Thank you for wasting my time and gas money.

"Good luck."

"Thank you."

"Goodbye."

"Bye."

Banner never gave me an assessment test. I sent them an application and a cover letter, Ross called me for an interview, then a second interview, then he called to offer me the position. I got it because I was the right person for the job.

AmSouth wouldn't hire me because of a number. A number on some test that I could not possibly answer as someone without prior experience, because I have experience!

How the heck am I supposed to get a job in banking if recruiters look at a number instead of at the heart? I'm just asking, how?

Before I moved, I went to a contemporary church that took place inside a movie theater. The church was associated with Assemblies of God, but if you asked anyone in the congregation, they'd likely tell you it was non-denominational. And each Sunday morning, church members and volunteers would arrive to set the stage, place food in its proper place, and ready the projector for a PowerPoint presentation with music slides and bulleted lines from our pastor's sermon.

The goal of our church was always to focus on the people attending and not on the building where people attended. Hence the reason no one minded going to church at the movie theater. It was about people, not a steeple.

I can't tell you how many agnostic or athiest people I met while going to this church. At one point, there was a fairly large Buddhist family who came regularly, but I think the majority of them became Christian after a year or so. Often times, our pastor would invite one of the non-believing members of the church to speak on their behalf and tell the rest of the body why they continued showing up every week. Whenever we heard about how our church had changed the ideas of people and made them think twice about what God is all about, we would get so excited about what God was doing.

My own brother-in-law, who wasn't always a Christian, was invited to tell his story and I bawled like a baby when he did. I remember him specifically saying, "Never in my life had I left a church feeling better about my life than I did before entering." In my mind, his statement was incredibly profound. Shouldn't it be that way for every church? Not every church is going to be the same, but that feeling one gets upon leaving - shouldn't that be a good feeling? A fresh, new, rejuvinated feeling that only God can provide?

So I've been asking myself for a long time, "Why aren't there more churches like that?"

I haven't been to too many services since moving to Tennessee. But I've talked to Andy about it a lot. When I talk to him about my church, he laughs but shakes his head and says, "It's not like that here."

The thought of starting my own church has actually crossed my mind. I've never gone further than "I wonder if..." because I don't know anything about how to start a church. But I have daydreamed of the reactions of starting one, and it amazes me how differently people would respond here than they would in Seattle. When my parents told me about a church that took place in the movie theater, I said, "Wow! That's awesome!" and that seemed to be the way everyone felt about it. However, if there was a new church in this area that took place in a movie theater, I imagine the community (most of which attend church) would be in an uproar. Local news reporters would interview angry church deacons, with their heated faces and angry proclaimations, "A movie theater is not a church! It is not a holy place! Ungodly movies are shown in the same building, so how can God dwell there? This is wrong and we will be praying for the people who believe that this is okay with God."

My personal belief is that it is not a building that makes a church, but the body of people, which is the body of Christ. If every church building in the world collapsed, would people stop going to church? Of course not. They'd congregate in a local field somewhere, or anywhere else they could get permission, and worship there. Do people love God or a building? Do they pursue God or a building? Do they seek God or seek a building? Do they talk to God or talk to a building?

God is not locked exclusively inside church buildings and that is not how everyone finds Him, although it is a way.

My search for a church continues. While I appreciate the church's here and believe their intentions are pure and wonderful, they simply do not suit me. I do not know how long it will be before I find a church that lines up better with my spiritual type. I have always been sensitive and any sermon that gives me an aftertaste of hellfire will likely make it difficult for me to sleep that night. Unfortunately, hellfire is quite popular in a lot of the sermons around here.

Please keep me and Andy in your prayers as we both search for a church that suits us both. Andy is like me and would like a more contemporary, feel-good type of place to go. But even he has no idea where to find that and he's lived here his whole life.

But God will show us the way.

www.photoblog.be/carlybish

Alright, an update. I haven't done one of these in a while.

For those of you who are new to jeffersonair, I should probably tell you that I recently made the move from Seattle, Washington to Chattanooga, Tennessee. This has been in effort to further pursue my relationship with a very special guy and also to experience a new place and a different way of living.

I am moved into my apartment, but I have no furniture, so I am hardly ever there. Andy and I live in the same apartment complex, so it's easy to walk over to his place and use his furniture instead. I can't even put my bed together because the parts needed to bolt the frame together have gone missing. So I have a mattress to sleep on every night, and that's it. However, Andy's parents offered me a nice sofa chair yesterday and I happily accepted - they are such cool people.

I also don't have a computer or cable television, whereas Andy does. So until I can get a job, I'll probably be spending most of my time at Andy's place, because I am extremely poor and cannot afford luxuries, like a couch and cable tv.

I've made a bit of extra spending cash by raking leaves for a relative of Andy's for the last couple weekends. It's been a huge help, believe me.

I have fallen behind on my Nano, (the) stupid girl syndrome, but I have not given up and I am still processing ideas in a notebook. Don't give up on me, please. New chapters will emerge, I just need time.

Andy and I celebrated six months together recently. It was a very happy time for us both, but especially me, because I have never been in a relationship for longer than six weeks! I am looking forward to another six months together. The holiday season is coming up and we have a lot of cool stuff planned. I'm really, really excited.

Bush is our President, yet again. The immigration site for Canada recently soared in number of online visitors following the election. Seems to be that half of America is looking to escape Bush (and perhaps his draft) by retreating to Canada for the next four years. I am so confused by recent political events that I could not be happy that Bush won, just like I could not be happy if Kerry had won. This whole thing has left me extremely confused.

I have not played my guitar in months. Not because of lack of interest or enthusiasm for playing, but due to having a million other responsibilities in need of handling. Sad how that happens, isn't it?

My parents got me an early Christmas present and paid for Andy and me to attend the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert in Atlanta next week on the 16th. I have always wanted to see them perform and I am finally getting the chance. Andy doesn't know a lot about the band, but I have a really strong feeling he is going to leave surprised and impressed by the whole event.

I feel I may have lost some of my regular readers due to my recent lack of posting. The last two months have been crazy and I'm sorry I haven't provided a copious amount of entertainment. Of course, this is no job and no one is paying me to keep this thing running, but I really love to write and I love it that people think I'm worth taking the time to read. As soon as things start becoming more stablized (like having a job and money and furniture), I am sure that the words will write themselves. Until then, have patience with me and please, keep me in your thoughts and prayers. I need to find a job. I'd like to get back into banking, but so far, there haven't been a lot of job openings around here. So any job would be a good job at this point.

God is always faithful. I know that now more than ever before.

November is here and I have officially begun my NaNoWriMo Novel. I will do my best to update it daily, as I only have one month to complete a total 50,000 words. I'd appreciate it if people read it, so I don't feel like all this effort to pour out 1,700 words a day is not in vain. You are all the best (yes, I am kissing up to you all).

(the) stupid girl syndrome.