The tone for Tara's and my first holiday season as a married couple was set in early December when I was fired from my job. In retrospect, this was a blessing in disguise, but at the time, it was our sole source of income that I had just flushed down the drain with some extraneous facebooking. And so, for much of December, I sat cooped up in our cold apartment sending my resume to myriad companies, endlessly tweaking it, trying to get through those blasted text filtering algorithms. The only things that helped me retain my sanity were the Mondays season pass I had at Solitude (purchased when I still had a job), teaching myself html, and Tara's endless awesomeness throughout the entire ordeal. Meanwhile, my mother notified the entire extended family that I was unemployed so we would't be doing gifts that year. Thanks, Mom.
After two weeks of feeling like the ultimate loser who can't hold down a job and support his new wife, I decided it was time to get out of the apartment. I suggested to Tara that we drive up to Park City for the evening to see the lights and peruse the galleries. It turned out to be a wonderful idea. PC is so magical during the holidays and it was nice to be out in the crisp mountain air. Window shopping the expensive boutiques amidst all the yuppies clad in over-the-top apres-ski outfits made us practically forget we were poor.
In the car, we popped in the Ingrid Michaelson album Be OK that I had gotten for Tara as a Christmas gift. The entire album is good, but it was the last song, "You and I", that really struck us on our way back to SLC:
And within moments were we both belting out along with the song, tears streaming down our faces. It was the quintessential Christmas moment in which all the stresses of the world are forgotten and the unbreakable bond between two people is all that matters. Yes, a similar scene has probably been depicted in at lest 3 Sundance films, but this was ours.
don't you worry, there my honey
we might not have any money
but we've got our love to pay the bills
maybe I think you're cute and funny,
maybe I wanna do what bunnies do with you,
if you know what I mean
Since that first year, we continue to make a tradition of visiting Park City each Christmas. Sure, these days we may actually enjoy a fancy dinner up there, but the laughing at fur-clad Californians remains the same. It is also safe to say that Ingrid Michaelson is choice Christmas music in the Newcomb house.