I am like a TV series; new entries beginning January 1!

I am too full of junk food and excited for Christmas to write too much profoundness.

Christmas is in 9 days according to the date-keeping snowman on the shelf in the kitchen, I am almost done Christmas shopping, and I am SO excited to spend time with my friends and family. I have no especially important wisdom to bestow regarding Christmas except this:

We all "know" that Christmas is about the birth of Christ. Even though scholars say that Jesus was not in fact born in December at all and it is only celebrated in December because it was easier for pagans to convert if Christian holidays were observed during the holidays of those pagans. Christmas falls at the same time as "bruma" or the winter solstice. But to me it is really neither here nor there and while I will not get into the politics of Christmas because it makes me sad and disappointed at the world I will say that I believe. I am so thankful for the promise and subsequent birth of our savior, thankful that I will spend eternity in heaven, and thankful for the sacrifice that the Lord made that while we were yet sinners he died for us. I celebrate on December 25th to thank Him for all my blessings big and small.

In the spirit of giving and the knowledge that I have been given resources, love, and life in abundance I wish a Merry Christmas to you and your family.

May The LORD bless thee, and keep thee (Numbers 6:24)

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year; see you in 2012!

Sara

Okay Friends!!

It is almost the end of the year (EGADS!) And the one year anniversary of this here blog...here. Okay, I can't be redneck even when I try!

The purpose of this little diddy is to kindly ask my readers the following:

What do you want my commentary on in the following year; what do you want to read?
What was your favorite entry this year?
I want to start doing a weekly advice entry (with guest writers to help solve all of your life's problems!) So I need some people to give advice to!

What I would love (seriously love!) for you to do: comment here, comment on the link I will post to my facebook, or message me on Facebook. Send me your questions, concerns, comments, criticism, etc.

Cannot wait to here (hehe) from you!

I am totally stunned by the ability of certain people to abjectly disregard social awareness.

I will not get into details here but I have been faced with several situations lately where the following has applied:

Just because I handled myself wrong doesn't mean I was wrong.

And in that thinking I am desperately trying to both handle myself well and be right... :o) Not really; but I am literally begging the question of which is better: Being right and proving it with pithy, sarcastic and/or snotty dialogue or handling myself with grace and class so that I am never thought a fool when I am wrong or thought immature in vindication.

But it is SO frustrating because so many people have the uncanny ability to abjectly disregard social awareness. AND IT MAKES ME WANT TO PUNCH MYSELF IN THE FACE!

Rude, lazy, filthy, crass, immoral, deplorable. Women who lie, cheat, and steal. Selfish women. Women who mistreat their husbands or boyfriends because they have been taught by society that it's not only funny but acceptable. It can all be too much for our sensibilities to bear!

I am not perfect. Not by any stretch of the imagination but I TRY. I try to maintain some modicum of ladylike-ness. I am horrified by women who don't have a desire to be somewhat socially aware.

Because being graceful is very often even sweeter than being right; it is nearly impossible to find fault in class. This is not to say we allow others to walk all over us. We find satisfaction in saying what needs to be said kindly and with love. We are not rugs!

So, this is for all the wonderful and socially aware women I know. Because we know that it is especially important in today's world to be what so many people are not. And because we have all known at least one female who takes us to the edge of our patience, wears our social graces to the breaking point, and tests our class to the point that we need a very good friend to tell us to calm ourselves, reach inside, and be the lovely person that is inside every careful woman.

Classy women never lose their dignity.

Stay classy. It really is important.

Craigslist: Where anyone can find a girlfriend, even inmates.

Today I clicked on "best pick up line ever" in the personals. Among the usual misspellings, blathering, and goings on I really needed to know what was being advertised as the best pick up line ever. Little did I know that by clicking on this particular ad I would be opening up a can of worms as big as his record itself. And without further ado; the convict's friendly plea:

Best pickup line ever - 28 (Alaska)

I know you're excited as you very well should be but try to keep your lady garments on for the time being. 

Let me start by telling you a little about me, I'm a 28 year old single white guy from Anchorage who by a stroke of life has found himself incarcerated in Kenai.

Unfortunately for me, but fortunate for you, the previous women in my life have lacked some of the fundamental characteristics that define a human being, things like a soul for example, nothing major. I would say they were about as useful as a woman without a vagina or if that's too offensive, a puke flavored jellybean (isn't that allegedly popcorn flavored?)

I think it goes without saying it can get kind of boring, lonely, and even a little depressing without contact from a woman. Unless you count the ladies who work here who are really more like souless soldiers of Satan.

I have a few pics on my facebook page to get you in the mood and if you're bored, lonely, intrigued or desperate or otherwise, I'd love to hear from you, unless of course you are the type of person who would criticize the spelling in a suicide note, then maybe you should consider counseling, which......I"d be willing to offer at a discounted price.

You can look me up on Facebook under Jason ************ to see some pics, but you'll have to write to me since I dont have internet access.... 

Jason ********************
Wildwood Correctional Complex
10 Chugach Way
Kenai, AK 99611

So here's the pickup line..."Walk up to a chick or dude at the bar and say "Did you invite all these people? I thought it was just going to be the two of us!" 
____________________________________________________________________________

Okay! I will admit. I giggled a little bit at first and totally thought he was using the word incarcerated in a more hyperbolic sense and was expressing his feelings about being stuck in a small town. The further I read however the more apparent it became that he was not merely being clever with words and the more horrified I became so that by the end the BEST PICK UP LINE EVER didn't really even seem funny.

And then of course my spider senses were twitching and I just HAD to know what had landed our dear poster in the slammer. And he did do what he shouldn't have done; gave his last name. And so, Courtview being my good friend of many years didn't let me down. I know, I know....a rep sheet detailing 28 incidents does not mean 28 convictions but it would be hard to discount 2 DUIs, drug charges, numerous theft charges, domestic violence protection orders, and of course a ticket for forgetting to stop at a stop light.

I mean really, if it was a "stroke of life" that landed him in jail then my name is Mrs. Keebler and I am here to gather rainbows for my friend Lucky who makes pagan cereal.

I think he lacks fundamental human characteristics...like morals, sanity, or ability to discern the gravity of his decisions. I don't feel bad that he's lonely. I feel bad that they gave him so many chances to screw people over. I am not empathetic to his plight because from his ad it seems that he still does not recognize that he was wrong and thinks it's just a big joke. A stroke of life my right foot...a stroke of your thieving hand maybe.

I am just glad I can say that it appears no one is responding to his charming posts because when I exited CL and had to search for the ad again I saw that he had posted three times.


Sincerely,

Mrs. Keebler <3

Sara's disclaimer for offended people: I didn't go to the courthouse and pull each case. I have no idea the outcome of each case. All information was obtained through public information. :o)

Fat Girls Don't Go Outside.

So annoyed and adding this to my arsenal of reasons why I have to get not fat. I am really interested in adding skiing to my list of things to do this winter so that I can reach my goal of thinness by my 25th birthday. However I cannot find a pair of snow pants that I like that fit...anywhere. Not even online. I am so pissed right now. At myself mostly, but also at the fact that clothing manufacturers are apparently hellbent on keeping consumers fat by not making any outdoor gear that I can stuff my big butt into. They  make pants ranging from small to quite large for men but for women the only pants available are for extra extra small to large. Of course, I could buy pants made for men but they make me look like I have junk. So that is not advised.

Because fat girls hate to go outside.

Confidence. Health. Style. In that order. Add now: Confidence, health, style, and snow pants.

Now, if you don't mind I am going to go gut myself so I can purchase the proper snow gear for skiing and outdoor purposes.

Thank you for listening to my rant. Okay.

Sara

It kindles my spirit.

With a sheet of snow on the ground and sunsets that grow earlier each day it can be said that winter has officially taken hold. Outside smells like an icy, crisp heaven; the air is so fresh. In a strange way it feels like starting again. I know that is what spring is for but growing up in Alaska I have always felt that winter marks the beginning of Alaska's beauty. October is dead and ugly. Once the leaves fall from the trees it is essentially a waiting game for the flakes to fall and once they do a lifeless Alaska transforms into a vibrant (if freezing) paradise with expanses of land that beg for adventure.

There is nothing better than playing in the outside all day and coming inside when the sun begins to fail to down some hot coco and play Phase 10 with family or friends. Or how on a clear night away from the city I can see every star in the sky winking from millions of miles away.

The clarity surprises me while the cold embraces me and I cannot wish for anything more than that moment, this life, and a silence that is alive with energy.

I can see my breath on the silent night and the reverence I feel almost takes it away. I close my eyes against a world that is lit by the moon's reflection on the snow. I stay there for a moment sunk into a bank of powder. The world sparkles and there is simply no help for this Alaskan because as my eyes open again I see a land that is so beautiful and contrary that I would never be able to stop calling it home.


(Please someone remind me of this when it snows at the end of April!!!)
But until then; happy winter! Get out and enjoy Alaska!

Sara

Etymology

Etymology is super fascinating to me. Partly because it's awesome but mostly because I am a huge nerd. Today, for some strange reason, I was pondering the origins of "Olly Olly Oxen Free." (Because it's something I say frequently, obviously :o))

It appears that origins are muddled. Some say that "oxen" is actually a childish corruption of "all in" and that the phrase is actually "Everybody all in free." Indicating that it is okay for the hide-and-seek game participants to abandon their hiding places without losing the game. Some say that the call is really "Olly Olly, all in free" and the "olly" is merely a loud call to make sure all players are aware that the round is over. Other opinions are that Olly, olly oxen free is really "All ye, all ye outs are free" or "Alle alle auch sind frei" which translates to "Everyone, everyone is also free".

I think I will stick to olly, olly oxen free because really it's the only chance I ever get to say oxen.

Kick the bucket is also interesting. It is said to make reference to a hanging; where the bucket is kicked out from under a person who is then left to die. However it appears that the use of bucket in this sense may have come from the french word "buquet" which means balance. To kick the bucket means to upset the balance or to die.

Anyway, that is your random fact for the day. What is the etymology of your favorite word or phrase?

Sara

The Grammatical Roller Coaster Strikes Again!

Hello all of my fantastic fans (just kidding; I know you're not my fans and rather are required to read my blog by virtue of our friendship). Today's post has been brought to you by the letter Q because I like the word quintessential. Today I crawled from the depths of despair to bring you the Quintessential personal ad from, yes it's true, our dearest friend Craig.

Do not pass, Go to jail! - m4w - 26 (You get what you ask 4.)

---

Just don't pass a so called secret around like a a get out of Jail free card! Because I never gave anyaway! Thats why You, do not have happyness, But I do, for you seem to want to be like the rst of em, so you can fuck the rest of em and not me any more, well may once for old times sakes! lets meet up at the bored walk, or the park place, your choice hit me up Latter BOO B00 boo ur Teddy!n MymAd Hatter!!! Midday<><><><>


What the, what the, what the HELL is this man even talking about!? There are 30 mistakes in a paragraph containing less than 100 words. I tried to count how many words there actually were but I wasn't entirely certain on what the word count would be for terms such as "Teddy!n MymAd Hatter". I estimated, so sue me. He spent a lot of time developing his conjunction skills "do not" but forgot the "e" in "rest". He spent time capitalizing "But" (in the middle of a sentence nonetheless) but has ghastly hatred for the "t-h" portion of them. Why Mr. Hatter? Why do you hate "t" and "h"? Together with "e" and "m" they make a family. I simply do not understand you, your logic, or your similes. I hate your unnecessary commas, the angle bracket art that you used to close your post, and most of all how I don't hate you, not even a little bit..
          ....not even at all.
Sorry, I was channeling Julia Stiles for a moment.

Seriously though, why bother with any punctuation or capitalization. Write the whole darn thing in one sentence with no punctuation. I have seen it done before many times and I must say it is much preferable to the grammatical roller coaster I am on after reading this mess.

Well that is is is all for the day,
Until next time

Sara!mkasdfMyamDG Officer

For a family I love.

Last Monday on an evening with a perfect yellow moon, a new person took his first breath. I wasn't there but as the new baby's big brother, auntie, and cousin got out of the car a message came from Grandma that read "IT'S A BOY". At which time we piled back in the car and went to Wal-Mart to purchase some boy clothes.

We went to visit the baby a few hours later. His mom was beautiful and radiant as she always is holding a perfect baby with a shock of dark hair. As I held this nameless miracle in my arms I couldn't help but stare and in the reverent quiet of that hospital room that eight pound baby held the attention of all present.

We don't know who he will be, how he will be, or if he will ultimately look more like his mom or his dad but it doesn't much matter because he has the gift of the best mom life could offer, a big brother who can teach him all the best parts of boyhood, and a whole lot of other people who fell in love with him from the first moment that they knew he would exist. No person could ask for a better beginning to what will be a wonderful life after all his name is Hebrew for "He Will Laugh" and we all know how I feel about laughter.

Congratulations Matt and Erika! Welcome to the world Isaac Alan Grice; I am so excited to see you grow!

The Song I Sung Myself.

Many people think they know my story, many actually do, and some have no idea. I tell it unabashed, unashamed, and unedited. I tell it not because I am a "victim" of domestic abuse but because my story is important to who I am, who I was, and who I will be. I tell it because I hope someday a woman that feels hopeless will hear it and choose to say, "no more, no way, not me."

I married a man thinking my love would change him; that if I gave him everything I was that he could love me too. Not only was I naive, I was stupid. I allowed my fear of being alone (at 18 nonetheless, what a ridiculous notion) get in the way of my judgement.

It didn't take long before an innocent disagreement turned into a reason for him to strike me. His anger, gas lighting, and general disrespect of me quickly changed from something that I didn't understand and wanted to help fix into something so frightening and dangerous that they could make the 9 months I was with him into a lifetime movie.

But I reached into my then 19 year old self and extracted my last seed of self esteem. I called my best friend who has to this day never said I told you so (even though she did, tell me that is). I sat on the bed at her mom's house and told her everything. The next two months I let the seeds of self respect and confidence germinate. We were divorced two days before what would have been our one year wedding anniversary.

I am sad to say I made those vows to a man who hurt me but I am so very thankful that I had the strength to leave him. To tell him that his behavior were unacceptable and that I did not, would not, and could not put up with it.

I heard this song by Mumford and Sons the other day and it made me cry. This was the "argument" I had with myself when I was deciding to leave. The "I" was the voice in me that was trying to break out and the "you" was the unsure person I had become.
I know that this interpretation is probably not what Mumford and Sons intended but it's what it meant to me. The YouTube video of the song and the lyrics are embedded below.

It's empty in the valley of your heart

The sun, it rises slowly as you walk

Away from all the fears

And all the faults you've left behind

The harvest left no food for you to eat

You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see

But I have seen the same

I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope

And I won't let you choke

On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain

And I will change my ways

I'll know my name as it's called again

Cause I have other things to fill my time

You take what is yours and I'll take mine

Now let me at the truth

Which will refresh my broken mind

So tie me to a post and block my ears

I can see widows and orphans through my tears

I know my call despite my faults

And despite my growing fears

But I will hold on hope

And I won't let you choke

On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain

And I will change my ways

I'll know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands

And see the world hanging upside down

You can understand dependence

When you know the maker's hand

So make your siren's call

And sing all you want

I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now

And I need to know how

To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope

And I won't let you choke

On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain

And I will change my ways

I'll know my name as it's called again

I am a better person; not in spite of what happened but BECAUSE of what happened. I reached into myself and found out that I am worth so much more than this. I found strength that I didn't know I possessed. My lesson was bought with pain and those are the kind that a person cannot forget.

To the women in a situation where a man mistreats, hurts, or abuses you just know that there IS help, you CAN be loved, and YOU have the strength inside to decide how you want to live your life. After all, this important and beautiful life is the only chance we have.

Domestic violence does not discriminate. It happens to women no matter their race, religion, or socio-economic status.

October is domestic violence awareness month. For the love of your neighbors, coworkers, and the lady behind you at the grocery store; be aware.

<3 Sara

Knowing.

Have you ever put on your most comfortable sweater and spent the last few hours of a regular evening doing things that didn't exactly need to be done right away simply for the pleasure of knowing the outcome? Every move you make so absolute, deliberate and comfortable that you can grasp the peace inside when everything else feels like it is never going to be your way. You run the dishwasher even though it isn't full because you know that the dishes will be clean. You put away clothes that have been in the basket for two days because you know the feeling of accomplishment you get when your  closet is organized. You fold until there is a perfect stack of fresh towels. Because no one can do it like you can. You know how to make it just exactly how you want it and it's the only thing in life that you know will be exactly how you like it.

And then, Pandora plays the perfect song and it's okay again. Sure, I wish I was in love with my best friend. I want to find my Gerry or my Wesley. That for once I was someone's exception instead of someone's rule. That I would wake up tomorrow and would have a love at first sight moment with someone at Tesoro. Oddly specific...

But don't make fun because I am about to tell you my greatest fear: I am scared that I will never find who I am looking for. I know "they" say that as soon as you stop looking then it will find you. The lady bug theory like you're in a meadow and you know that there are lady bugs but you cannot find any until you lie down to take a nap and when you wake up you're covered in them.

Knowing the outcome is not an option. Loving the adventure of being washed, folded, and put away...well, I am hoping that is the key to being happy no matter what.


Even still I hope. I believe it exists. In the words of He's Just Not That Into You's Gigi:

Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. If a guy punches you he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, Every story we're told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is... just... moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope.

This house is too quiet...but wait...

In June I had just moved back into my house and exhausted from cleaning and moving I collapsed on the couch at 1 am and wrote the following as the beginning of a blog:

In a world of 6 billion people, today I feel alone. This house is too quiet, my heart is too lonely, and my life feels too empty.

I saved it thinking that I would finish it later and moved on. I never got the chance to finish it because my life was about to become loud. Loud with thoughts, emotions, and people. Loud with happiness, fulfillment and laughter. The quiet would fade away until I would sit on my couch tonight listening to the dishwasher swish in a totally appreciated moment. I am happy in this silence knowing that there is a happy, wonderful 13 year old girl sleeping in her room. I am happy in this silence knowing that there is a big beautiful life to live. I am happy in this silence that I will have tomorrow to laugh and enjoy every moment of my existence.

My life looks nothing like I thought it would; but I couldn't imagine it any other way. I wouldn't change one moment. People close to me know how I feel about them, I speak my mind (sometimes even when I shouldn't) and I have people I trust, people I love, and a home where the few quiet moments are well with my soul.

I wish you love that is unimaginable, dreams that are unfathomable, and ice cream that is just the right temperature. But most of all I wish you a life where you are happy, even if it's not quite what you expected.

Sara

Oh my yorkie-wawa

It has been brought to my attention by my dear friend Erika that there is a fairly serious problem going on in the pets section of Craigslist. Not only are there rampant grammar and spelling mistakes per the usual but people are trying to sell their mixed breed dogs for outrageous "rehoming" fees. Take this ad posted by "sexyalaskagirl09" for example:

i have a Yorkshire terror chiwawa mix 2 1/2 year old male dog. i do not have the time for him and it makes me feel bad so i need to re home him. he is kid friendly and gets along with cats. his mom is per breed Yorkshire terror and father is per breed chiwawa. he is worth 800 dollars and i am asking 300 re homing fee or best offer. he is long haired and very friendly comes with a kennel and two leashes and two out fits. im looking for a great home for him if your interested call
alissa
907-952-0588

Okay, now I will hold off breaking out my red pen for a moment just to say this. What drunk person told you that your 2 1/2 year old "terror/chiwawa" mix was worth $800? Please tell me you did not pay that much money for him. And $300 is not a rehoming fee it's a rip off. I understand having to rehome a dog. After my divorce I had to rehome a "per breed" rottweiler and guess how much I charged after interviewing several homes for him? Yea, zero dollars. I sometimes feel like I am watching the world turn into the one Luke Wilson will wake up to in Idiocracy. Seriously? Three HUNDRED dollars?

I don't condone spending any amount of money for a dog with the exception of an adoption fee but anyone that would give you $300 for a redneck kennel club registered lap dog is probably a crazy person and shouldn't have a dog.

My friend Erika said to me one day,"No I will not buy your "labrakita" for $900." And I died laughing. Just because your husky got knocked up by a chow chow does not mean you can sell your "chusky" on CL for an outrageous amount of money. Just because you can own a dog doesn't mean you should.

And sexygirlalaska09 you have a Yorkshire Terrier/Chihuahua mix whose mom was a purebred Yorkshire Terrier and whose dad was a purebred Chihuahua. I mean really, you could have used spell check. Also, just for future reference "i" is always capitalized and so is the first letter of a sentence.

I won't give you $300 for your yorkie-wawa but I will give you a big F-- for your atrocious post.

Until next time spay or neuter your pets and if you're looking for a dog or trying to rehome them contact Alaska Dog and Puppy Rescue. :o)

Sara

Okay life here is the deal: you better shape up or ship out. Are we clear?

I am having a, "Seriously life, seriously?!" moment.

Here is what I know:

I am smart, silly, successful, sweet, caring and gosh darn it people like me! I sleep in too late sometimes, I am really clumsy, and I positively cannot shut my mouth, say no to chocolate chip cookies, or go more than a day without washing my hair.

I am happy, ridiculous and (usually) fun to be around. I like to write, cook, and be with friends and family.

Okay, either the above is true or I am totally socially unaware. I am beginning to believe that I am totally socially unaware...because my luck with men is horribly, disturbingly atrocious.

Here is the situation:

I went on two dates with this guy. On the first we met up for coffee at the Valley Hotel and on the second we climbed the Butte and went to his house and played Uno. I really liked him. He seemed nice, normal, and he had his own (great) place off he Old Glenn. Just a seemingly great guy who I felt calm around. I was attracted to him but he didn't make me nervous. Skip ahead a few days: we make plans to hang out on Thursday (today). The following text conversation transpires (with my commentary interjected):

Him: Hey, just wondering if u have given tonight anymore thought?

Which I immediately think is a weird way to word it. I shut up the crazy lady and tell myself that if he means what I THINK he means by that lovely little liner that he would not have done the following: asked me to his house, continued to text me/talk to me, asked me on a second date, or agreed to go on a third date. I think positively and respond in kind with that.

Me: Yea, I was hoping we were going to hang out. I don't have anything in mind necessarily. What would you like to do? We could do dinner or a movie or...kind of whatever :o)

And then I get this; which is just so awful I can barely type it.

Him: I think I should be honest. I am not really feeling a relationship at the moment, but maybe later. Would u be interested in being friends/ maybe w benefits?

And because I am snarky (and can never just let it go...)

Me: Well, my going rate for friends with benefits is a little higher than the valley hotel...seriously?!

I just, wow. I mean really. What? Wow. All I can say is thank God for best friends who can make you laugh about a situation that makes someone like me totally speechless.

After speaking to my friend Tiani I am beginning to believe that men might actually be brain damaged. Do we really live in a world where men think they can make such propositions via text message...? Or at all for that matter?

I am obvi. not going to speak to him ever again but your thoughts, concerns, and advice are welcome.
Ugh! My brain is LITERALLY melting.

Sara

The Skirt I Love...On The Body I Hate

I have this pencil skirt that I love. It's gray with a purple hue, high waisted, and super cute. I have no problems with it except the size tag and by virtue of that, the way it looks on me. It looks as good as it could I guess. I like the way I dress but I am going to go out on this limb and actually write what I think and never say.

I hate, loathe, despise, and am categorically disgusted by my body.

I am funny, smart, happy (for the most part), and pissed off. Sometimes at others but usually at myself for constantly letting something as ridiculous as food get in the way of my relationship with myself. It's just that people treat you differently when you're thin. I know because I have BEEN thin and could get a date, get out of a ticket, and get on with my life. Maybe that is because I was thinner but maybe that is because I felt differently about myself. I don't mean to sound like I am having a pity party. I just want the world to understand how frustrating it is for me to struggle to understand where the real problem is inside me. What is this obsession, addiction, attraction to something that ultimately makes me feel bad every time I look in the mirror.

I don't need validation of myself as a person. I know the beautiful person that is inside. I just wish my outside would look at my inside and say, "yep, I am going to look like that".I just wish there was something someone could say that would change my relationship with food.

And then I realized that I have that power; to tell myself that I am so much more than a number on a scale, a kit kat bar, or what someone thinks they know about me because I am (*gasp*) fat.

I have that power. I have that power. I have that power.

Okay, I will stop now at risk of sounding like a creepy weight loss cult. I don't have to look in the mirror and think "bleck". I can look in the mirror and say, "you are beautiful. You are kind. You are successful."

So instead of the old mantra of, "you'll probably fail." I remind myself why going to the gym and eating right (or at least decent) is so important to me; confidence, health, and style. In that order.

So that some day (soon) I can wear the skirt I love on the body I love. Not because I hate who I am but because I want to be the best version of me possible, for as long as possible.

Thank you Christina Ricci and James McAvoy for reminding young girls and myself in your movie Penelope that people only have the power to make you feel as bad as you let them and that the power to be who you want to be is ALWAYS within you.

Alright, I am going to go have my time of month now apparently.
Sara

Moron Moment

I want to preface this post by saying that I positively enjoy being a woman. Especially when I am around men to whom chivalry is not dead; it makes me super happy to just be a girl. Now, there are times when being of the female gender is exceedingly frustrating. Like when I have to be thinking about every. little. thing. all. the. time. Sometimes not even the gym is enough to shut the crazy lady up.

So on Friday night I mentally scheduled how I wanted my Saturday to go:

7: Wake up, go to gym
8:45 Arrive at the office for my 9am appointment
10: Drop package from signing off at FedEx
11:30: Arrive in Anchorage to complete details of baby shower
3: Arrive at Erika's Aunt Johanna's to help set up for the baby shower
5: Baby shower

This is how it really went. Wake up at 2,3,5 am and stay awake for a half hour each time worrying about various files, the shower, and whether or not I will be able to NOT consume all available junk foods at said shower. Finally fall asleep and then snooze the alarm clock until 8 when I absolutely HAVE to get up. It's too late to go to the gym so I take a lukewarm shower  (worry about water heater problem), blow dry hair (obsess over how by the time the baby shower starts it will look flat and awful and people will think I am homeless),  straighten hair (I HAVE to get my roots done), do make up (wonder why it is necessary to hold mouth open whilst applying mascara), and leave my house. Get stuck behind road construction. Arrive at the office 5 minutes early and get out of my car just as the people are pulling up to the walk. I awkwardly let them into the dark, unlocked office. Weird. Sign said clients, they say "Thank you, farewell." I say, "Congratulations, it was great meeting you. Have a good day." And head on over to fed ex. Well, the Wasilla FedEx location does not have a Saturday pick up from their drop box and the office doesn't open until 12:30. I set the package on top of my car so that I can call because that does NOT work into the plan. So I get on the phone with FedEx to find out the pick up times for Anchorage/Eagle River but the car is still running so my phone connects to blue tooth. I sit in my car, talk to the lady, and drive off.

So there I am listening to Matchbox 20 on my Pandora radio station thinking the following thought, "this turned out to be a super great day. I got out of bed, I did most of the things I wanted to do, I am going to get to Anchorage early, do shower stuff, the shower is going to be fun. I hope Erika likes it. Of course she will. Erika is so wonderful. Gosh it's a beautiful day. The leaves are so yellow. I can't believe it's almost winter. Okay I'm going to take this package to Eagle....OH MY GOD THE PACKAGE!!!"

Anyway, I found the package and it was no worse for the wear but it could have been so much worse. I never do stuff like that. It's those two darn X chromosomes. I can't keep my mind on one thing, basically ever.

So my advice is this: never throw the baby out with the bath water, put all your eggs in one basket, OR leave original documents on the top of your car.

KK? Alright, well I promise that I will someday write a good one but this will have to do for now.

Love you long time!
Sara

Anything you can do I can do in heels.

The tagline of my blog (in case you didn't know) is "reflections on life, love and shoes". Well I have talked a lot about love and I have talked about life but I have yet to really focus on shoes. I do not have a large collection of shoes; it's small in comparison to some. But I love shoes. Scratch that. I love the way shoes make me feel. Whether I am dressed up or *cough* wearing nothing BUT a pair...heels are my vice.

The above photo was taken a few weeks ago when my roommate's boyfriend graciously decided he would tolerate three girls in his truck for eight hours on a trip (almost) to the Knik Glacier by way of Jim Creek. Heather was photographed in slippers but was previously clad in blue leopard print heels, Jessie was wearing her usual converse sneakers, and then there was me-with no slippers to change into-in red high heels.

When Erika and I took the Honda to Seward we queried "who says you can't take a luxury Honda camping?" My question after this adventure is, "who says I can't go off roading (I am such a girl I don't even know if that's what it's really called) in red high heels?"

I am such a walking contradiction it's hard to know where to start. I am such a girl but I am also a total Alaskan. I will go camping but only if there is a water source with which to wash my hair. I will snowmachine to the cabin but I will pack my make up. I will go to Jim Creek but I will wear shoes that are exceedingly impractical. I will be an Alaskan...but I will also be a girl.

Anything you can do, I can do...in heels. :o)

Sara

The axiom you never knew was yours.

Ladies, I have discovered something profound. It's the philosophy you never knew you had. A proverb that defines womanhood. The advice your mom never gave you but that you developed out of respect for being a "lady". Show me a lady who does not have this secret motto and I will show you a woman who is really more like a man.

Now, you may want to replace your pious panties with your big girl underwear because this is going to be a real shocker.
The axiom you never knew was yours is this: Handle every situation with grace and then talk about it later when the offending parties are not present.

I once read in the bible that gossip is bad. The tongue is an unruly evil. Thank you James; I get it, I do. But how are you honestly NOT supposed to talk about people ever? I try not to say bad things about people but sometimes you have to vent jokingly to your best friend about the moron on Craigslist who thinks "it's a good talkerative" is a great way to describe the verbal capacities of one African Grey Parrot.

And I mean, when did it EVER become okay to wear a leopard print cardigan to the office. This a business, not a brothel.

I find that my mouth gets me into a lot of trouble. I remember even when I was young my mom used to say, "You need to take a lesson from your brother. He knows when to stop talking." Oh my. She was right. As usual.

I sometimes say the wrong thing, an offensive thing, or too much of a good thing which ends up being a bad thing. But I have plenty of people that I vent to who in return volley their complaints about non present parties. This of course is a nice way of saying that we talk about people behind their backs. We all do it. Show me a woman who doesn't and I will show you a liar.

And really, I have said some very unpleasant things about people that I do care deeply about and I know that I get talked about as well. To be honest, I would rather not know what is said about me. I know who loves me and who doesn't. I would rather not have resentment towards someone for saying something about one of my more obnoxious moments that was less than complimentary.

This secret code that we live by....well, it's more than fine with me.

Until next time, welcome to the CBC. That is the catty bitch club to which we have all been involuntarily indoctrinated because of a chromosomal induced disposition.

:o) I can't believe I am posting this. I love you all. Please still be my friend.

Sara

Midnight at Mountain Ranch.

Charmed is defined by Webster as an adjective meaning extremely lucky or prosperous. I am so blessed to honestly say that I have lived a charmed life. A life that begs that I pay it forward; I have had enough hardships to appreciate good things but not so many that I am jaded. I am a walking contradiction; more so even then most women. Something men never seem to understand. Something my mom said a man will some day love the most about me. Here I am talking about my prospective relationships from my mother's perspective. It is like saying, "my mom thinks I am funny" in a nasally, defensive voice. But at the same time my mom has been known to tell me the truth even when it's insulting. She wouldn't say it unless she thought it was true.

I love the rain but I hate wet clothes. I love the snow but I hate the cold. I love the beach but I hate the sand. I am contrary and agreeable, empathetic and annoyed. Life is a blessing and a curse; a burden and a joy.  

I think I have talked about this before but I think I finally understand WHY I am this way:

The colors of life are not as vibrant if you have never experienced darkness.

Just like the sun is always brighter when you have been in a room with little light. I would not experience the joy like I do in small things if I did not experience annoyances, frustrations, and even anger. I would not sing songs about Dave's Killer Bread if I was never irritated that the sink was clogged. I would never understand how precious and important life is had I not married someone that did not care about mine.

Let yourself feel things; deeply and intensely. Then tell your face you're happy and handle the situation with as much grace and class as you can possibly muster. Life might be about balance but that doesn't mean you get to be a bitch because you are sometimes awesome. It means you are supposed to treat people with the respect they don't deserve. 

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

2  A time to be born, and a time to die;

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

3  A time to kill, and a time to heal;

A time to break down, and a time to build up;

4  A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn, and a time to dance;

5  A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

6  A time to get, and a time to lose;

A time to keep, and a time to cast away;

7  A time to rend, and a time to sew;

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

8  A time to love, and a time to hate;

A time of war, and a time of peace.

I hope this made sense. I am a little worried it doesn't.

:o) Sara.

Wow. Just. Wow.

Welcome to this installment of the Craigslist Edition. This weeks involuntary submission comes from "sick of feeling rejected". I clicked this add because of it's obvious ties to last night's posting. I chose this post because, as always, it's a real gem.

sick of being rejected - 24 (eagle river )
Where is the woman who will love me for who I am and not what I don't have ? Why do the women allways reject me when I want to date them? No I don't have a job car or my own place to live but, you don't need that to love someone. I want to be loved and i'm sick obeing single. Rejection hurts more and more everytime I get rejected. I want to get married and have that family soon but it's killing me to open up to a woman just to get shut down. I am 24 and I am going to school through the university of phoenix for psychology. I moved up here about 10 months ago from Iowa. All i am looking for is love from a beautiful woman who wants to enjoy life. not a gold digger whch I seem to run into all the time. please if you are abeautiful woman who is just looking to be loved and give love please reply to this and send a picture . I will get back to you as soon as i can. the closer you live to eagle rier the better.

Dear Rejected,

Boy do I know how you feel. I am gainfully employed, I have my own place, a new car, and a decent head on my shoulders. I am funny, usually easy going, and have a true love for life. What I don't have is a boyfriend. Or a prospect. Or the capacity to see a rhetorical question and not answer it like a smart ass.

Your ad doesn't make me want to jump at the chance to be with you. I think perhaps that it's time for you to leave denial land and cross over to the side of self awareness. I'm sorry that your attending an online college while unemployed, carless, and living with your parents is not exactly a relationship aphrodisiac. You know what girls like? Men with jobs. I appreciate your attempt to better your circumstances by attending college in your PJs but unfortunately women appreciate income more. They don't want you to take them on a date in your dad's car, spend the night on your twin bed and have your mom cook them breakfast, and/or fund your gaming addiction. Just because a woman likes to have nice things, wants to be in a relationship with someone who is hard working, and can buy them dinner doesn't mean they are gold digger. It means they are sane.

Thank you for going to college. But I have known plenty of people with full class schedules that work almost full time and have their own space AND a car. I know. It's hard to believe.

But fact: we are in our mid-twenties. You should have something by now. My heart goes out to you in your hard time however no one is going to want to be with you when you're whining about how no one wants to be with you and you're not doing anything to change the circumstances; a lesson I am learning the hard way.

I hope you're having a great day!
Sincerely,
Your Reality Check.

Shit.

I just realized something awful about myself and I have to broadcast it to you because that's what I do. So here it is:

I don't like men that like me too much.

When I was in 6th grade I had the biggest crush on David Abbott who was clearly way cooler than me and out of my league. When I was in 8th grade I was stood up at the dance by Jonathan Povelite. Brett Lafarve (yes that was his name) asked me to dance and I gave him my phone number. My friends made fun of me for dancing with him because he had on a plain white teeshirt that was a little dirty and I felt ashamed and wasn't overly nice to him when he'd call so he stopped calling. Now the Plain White Tees are a bad ass band and I stalked Brett on Facebook once and I think he might be hot now.

I loved Ryan Monson. He ended up being my first boyfriend but only AFTER he dated my best friend. I remember her slipping me a note in Spanish class that said "Lo siento Sara, pero me gusto el conejo". Translation? "I'm sorry Sara, but I like The Rabbit" (The Rabbit being the codename given to said crush). She dated him for three weeks, broke up with him, and then he dated me.

You get used to the rejection. It starts to feel like the natural course of things. It is comfortable. We all know the story with my ex husband; that just compounded this notion that I should be uncomfortable if a guy likes me too much or spends too much of his time thinking of me-that there must be something wrong with him. So when a nice guy comes along I am pretty good at fucking it up. Or I stay fat. Because at this point it feels normal to be rejected.

Good heavens. This might be the worst and best revelation ever.

KNOK! KNOK! Ur Prince Charming is here (anch)

Oh YAY! Yes, ladies it's true. This week's Craigslist "addition" brings us prince charming. Aren't you excited? I thought you might be. So without further "a do":

KNOK! KNOK! Ur Prince Charming is here (anch)

prince charming is at the door will u answer ?

I've been single for a little wile now and have done very well in life, the feeling of being alone or the need for a gf./lover/wife has not challenged my way of life. it was a needed break after my last few encounters in this area, (WINDS OF CHANGE) as we all know life does change. I would like to find a LTR, MONOGAMY and TRUST what I'm looking for is white female, hwp, 30 to 45 or so. I realize that's not much to go on but this is ALASKA after all, the whole 10 to 1 reshow, just don't be crazy.lol

About me, I'm worth it

If u do reply you'll need to send a pict. and put in some thing about this town or I'm not able to respond....
Dear Prince,

Welcome to 2011! It used to be that words and terms had to be abbreviated for space purposes when they ran ads in newspapers. Then what happened? Well, then there was a dawning of the technological age. One of the great things that we have gotten from this is Craigslist which you have obviously discovered and begun to use in earnest.

In case you didn't know, CL has the capacity to provide you with an almost unlimited amount of space in which to create your ad. This doesn't mean you should use all of the space available to you to blather on about your bad relationships, your mom, and the details of your life best not provided to the general public. However, the great thing is that you can "wow" your potential mate by using spell check, spelling out "u" and "ur", and explaining more about yourself than "I'm worth it."

On another note, while I commend you on your capitalization of "I", I was saddened by your spelling of "KNOK". I mean, what did the letter "C" ever do to you? My favorite things start with the letter "C": cookies, cranberries, crack, coffee, and co...well, you get the idea. Just so we are clear; it's spelled k-n-o-c-k.

The last thing I want to address in this epic fail of a description for who I assume is a nice, adjusted man is that Alaska does not have a 1 to 10 reshow. I know what you were getting at but I think the word you are looking for is "ratio". And I think it might be closer to a ratio of 2 females for every 1 male.

At any rate, I hope my notes have helped. Welcome to CL.

Thank you for your time,

Sara


Alright I'm out but in the mean time if you want prince charming, you know where to find him.

Love Always,
Sara

This story inside me.

If you picked this up...would you keep reading it?

___________________________________________

The earth has always fascinated me. The precarious nature of humanity fills me with an almost preternatural calm. I know that my soul could be sent away from here and I would be gone as easily as the waves wash away sandy footprints from the shore leaving behind only the empty shells of long dead ocean creatures in its crashing.  This isn’t to say that I am not afraid of dying for I have so much left that I want to do but I am not afraid of death. Fate will take me at a moment of his choosing without asking me permission. Of course, this is not a universal truth. Some believe that Fate can be tempted, tricked, and some believe that he does not exist at all; that the world and all its perfect balances are simply a matter of coincidence. I am not by any means a philosopher but I do believe that there is one thing that is certain:

Everything looks good with blue jeans.

Seriously, everything that is, except fat. I know, I used the “f” word. There are things worse than fate and one of them is fat. But still, in 2005 I found myself laying on my bed and sucking it in desperately trying to fasten a pair of size eights. I finally got them buttoned and I stuck out my belly in the long mirror. Not too shabby I thought to myself as I shut the light off and flounced out of my room with as much energy as any almost graduated high school senior. I suppose I should lay off the lunch floated across my mind. In my head it was an airplane pulling behind it a banner. The red wording flapped through the sky like a bulletin to the world. As the plane turned around I could see the other side. In big black letters the banner read “Sara gained 10 pounds.” I laughed at myself and slid into the driver’s seat of my white 1999 Pontiac Sunfire and put it into gear to back out of our long driveway. I pulled into the parking lot of Palmer High School twenty minutes later and prepared myself to be late, again, to math.

       That weekend I would be going into the city to shop. Once in Anchorage I would sneak a size 10 off the hanger and buy them with the size sticker down so my friends could not see. I would put the size eights into what I promised myself would be semi-retirement and would complete senior year without further incident from my waist line.

       And so it goes for all of us skinny seniors gone fat. For some it is a love of food, others a slowing of the metabolism. There are those among us who have had children or who have gotten married. And then there are those of us who took out the stresses of difficult classes, horrendous schedules, and bad relationships on a box of pizza and a package of oreos so often that it would soon become an easy habit. I am one of those people. This is a (mostly) true story.

Codependent on the world.

I had an epiphany while blow drying my hair this morning: the leading cause of frustration in my life stems from the fact that I focus on how people who were not raised like me behave.

Wow. I am probably a terrible person but hear me out. I don't mean that I don't like people whose parents didn't buy them their first car. I mean people who were not constantly taught, corrected, and shown by example the fruits of lives lived on the basis of morals, common sense, and hard work.

This is why the current state of affairs in America disgusts me. I cannot understand how anyone would actually choose to sit at home on their neighbor's dime.

Here is an example: When my brother was a senior in high school he got into trouble with my parents; I don't even remember why but the end result was his getting his keys taken away. Now, my mom was recounting this story to her coworkers one day and one of them reprimanded my mom's parenting decision by snidely commenting, "How embarrassing for him. He's a senior and you're making him take the bus." To which my mom in all her opinionated wisdom replied, "he needs to know that he is not entitled to a car. He cannot handle the responsibilities of driving and is not too good to take the bus."

And so it went at our house. I would never say that we were perfect children but I will say that we have great parents. I am sure we had our moments but I can recall many times when our attitudes, fit throwing, and back talking were not tolerated. I remember when they called our friends' houses to make sure we were really there, when they insisted that we do well in school, and when after a long day at work when my mom felt like taking a nap she made dinner instead so that we could all sit at the table together.

My parents didn't have just one job. They had two and being a parent always came first (and probably still does; much to their chagrin you're kids never outgrow you).

So many people don't realize the full weight of their responsibility when they have children. I think they "know" that it's a lifetime commitment but don't actually understand what that means. They don't understand that every decision they make, every word they say, and every lesson-by words and actions-can effect that child for its whole life. They love their children but because they don't actually fully comprehend that it doesn't matter what you "feel like" doing they sometimes end up rearing children that are angry, poorly adjusted, entitled, and lazy.

Dennis Prager said it best on the radio a while back:

How you feel matters to you. How you behave matters to the other 6 billion people in the world.

You have a responsibility to yourself and the world to be the best version of you that you can be. Making mature decisions for your life, finances, and health no matter what you "feel" like doing will not only give you a better life but it will better the lives of those around you.

My epiphany this morning made me realize how thankful I am that I was taught these things by my parents and how sad it is that some people have had to learn these hard lessons on their own or worse; not at all.

I think going forward I will feel differently about people who were not necessarily raised how I was. I will be more confident in standing up for what I believe in and speaking out against what I don't. Living each day with compassion for others without allowing people to take advantage of my kindness is sure to alleviate my frustration. After all-it's not about how I "feel" it's about what I do and in the end it's not even CLOSE to being all about me.

Thank you mom and dad for being wonderful parents. The depth of your love and commitment to us does not go unnoticed.

Sorry for the long post but wow, I had a long thought-Apparently it takes me a long time to dry my hair.

Sara

Really good advice. In case you were confused.

I am becoming a HUGE fan of blogging about Craig and that crazy list of his. It's such an easy target but it makes me laugh every time. I found this posting from a confusing canoer last night:

Sex on a Tiny Island-24

I have a tiny cabin on a small lake, on the lake is a tiny island that nothing is on. The plan... You send a pic (please be good looking, not bbw) and 18-30. I'll give you direction, we meet at the lake and paddle by canoe to the island, set up a small tent because of biting bugs, well and screw, we will do your favorite position, oral is up to you, after we both cum we will cuddle and talk and relax. Maybe a round two.
This will be really fun, could be one time or we could take it from there.

Let's do this, pic me.

Wait...WHAT? I am confused right out of the gate on this one! "I have a tiny cabin on a small lake, on the lake is a tiny island that nothing is on." What is the residential improvement status of this freaking island? Is there a cabin or isn't there? I thought I misused commas. This guy takes comma misuse to a whole new level.

I am NOT staying in a tent when there is a perfectly good cabin in which I can stay. I am not going to screw you either for that matter. Let me list all the other things I am most certainly not going to do:

1.) Canoe to a secluded island to "screw" someone I "met" on CL.
2.) Canoe to a secluded island to "screw" someone I "met" on CL.
3.) Canoe to a secluded island to "screw" someone I "met" on CL.

That basically covers it. This is how murder happens. Girls, a word of advice: do not canoe to a secluded island to "screw" someone you "met" on CL.

Just Saying,

Sara

Pensive.

In a world of people I feel like I spend a lot of time alone. It's awful to be alone when you don't actually want to be. When my friends complain that they don't ever get a minute to themselves I smile sympathetically but often wish that I had the same; days filled with no silent moments. With voices. With people. With constant laughter. That is my favorite place. This is why my friends' children do not annoy me. I don't mind it simply because I love it. If Hell was my destination my own personal one would be total, eternal quiet.

I notarized a power of attorney for a client the other day. The client happened to be someone I was a camp counselor with at Victory Bible Camp. When he asked me if I had children or if I was married and I had to respond no, with all I have accomplished and overcome in my life, I felt sad that "no" was the truth.

I feel like I would have a lot to offer a guy. I am emotionally stable, financially independent, smart, funny, hard working, and a basically nice person...but for the men that are interested, they are only interested in having a physical relationship. And that makes me feel objectified, even if that isn't the intention.

It's frustrating to me. To have so many feelings. To have no way of changing the situation. To wonder if I lost weight would more men would be interested in having an actual relationship with me. But I don't want to be with a man that would only be interested in me because of how I look. It's a catch 22.

I think every girl should read the book "He's Just Not That Into You". It was also made into a movie that was also great. My favorite part of the movie is when Gigi says:

"I may dissect each little thing and put myself out there so much but at least that means that I still care. Oh! You've think you won because women are expendable to you. You may not get hurt or make an ass of yourself that way but you don't fall in love that way either. You have not won. You're alone. I may do a lot of stupid shit but I'm still a lot closer to love than you are."

I hope that someday I am someone's exception. I have the freedom to do what I want-to do what I want, when I want, and to answer to no one. It isn't a freedom I asked for and it isn't one that I want.

For all my independence, I look forward to the day that I have a husband who cares where I am.

Sorry about all the gravity. But this is what is on my mind.

Until I can make you laugh again,

Sara

Oh, CL! You are the gift that keeps on giving.

Okay girls, there is a  person in need of our assistance. Since I love my fellow man, I am going to post his cry for help and see if we can't get him some of the advice he is asking for.


i need help-24

hi im just a 24 year old male looking to improve my, Introduction, for lack of a better term, my "game"
i have confidence and im probably too charming. but i just never no how to read women. or what to say to a girl i want to meet.
i think it has to do with me being raised by a single mother. not having a dad around to show me what to do. or not to do.
im not a mommas boy, but ive always been told how you treat your mother is a good indicator of how you are going to treat the other women in your life,
so i try to give my mother the best son possible. (mostly by trying to stay away)lol
anyway. i also have no friends. im new to anchorage and have yet to really socially explore the city.
so i like to:
do a lot of the things girls like to do.
im not gay. but i like to dress up my lady friends and do there make-up, hair, clothes, and especially shoes.
i repeat im not gay, i just know what i like to see.
so if you think you can teach me somethin about girls please let me know. cuz i see the boys around me and well.
im just about 100% sure i can do way better then, HEY BABY, WANNA FUCK. Does that even work???????? ever
if you want a picture ill send you one but looks arent everything to me

thank you and have a nice day

You know, he seems like a nice guy so I feel almost bad for what I am about to do. But not bad enough.

Dear  "i need help-24 (Anchorage)"

You asked for help so here I am! Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns.

For starters sir, I am concerned about the marks you received in high school English. Typically, "i" is capatalized, like "I".  For example, "I need help". Great. We got that down.

Okay, now we need to discuss the probabilty of any thought necessitating the use NINE question marks before your sentence is even over. The probability is zero. Just so you know.

Generally, the first letter in a new sentence is capatalized. However, I am going to assume that you posted your ad via smart phone and the capitalization button was broken.

Now there are a few other items that we need to discuss. Girls do not appreciate your actual opinion on anything least of all on the subject of their clothes. My advice is that next time a girl asks you, "How does this dress look?" You should say, "wow baby. You look hot." Truly, that's what they want to hear.

Don't repeat over and over again that you are not gay. It makes people believe that maybe thou doth protesteth too much...if you know what I mean.

The following is also very important: professing to not having any friends, staying away from your mom, and doing "a lot of things girls like to do" is probably not improving your odds.

Next time you post on CL try this:

Hello! My name is (....). I am a 24, I just moved to Anchorage and I am looking for a great girl to spend my extra time with. I am really easy going. I don't mind going with the flow and love just being with people I have a connection with.

I haven't had a chance to socially explore city just yet and am looking for someone willing to show me around.

I am not like every other guy out there. I am charming, fun, and I won't ask you to have sex with me on the first date. I believe there is more to a person than looks ; but I am willing to trade pictures if you want.

I hope to hear from you soon!

Isn't that so much better? At any rate, I hope I have helped you with your introduction.

Have a good one!

.........
Wow, I feel better now. I have helped one of our own. Carry on with your lives citizens.

Sara

Something is not write.

I can't seem to think of anything to write lately. I have the life version of writer's block. I did not even laugh out loud at Tosh.0 last night. I seriously cannot think of anything funny except Charlie the Unicorn and Sean Connery on SNL Celebrity Jeopardy.

I can feel the discontent. I am bored. I write the best stuff when I have no time to do it and lately I have had too much time on my hands. Or I have been sad. I can't write when I am sad. Nothing stamps out the imagination and creativity more than a healthy dose of reality.

I am the kind of person who does not feel my day is complete unless I have gotten up at 5:00am, gone to the gym, been to work, ran errands at lunch, worked late, gotten home, walked the dogs, watered the flowers, done the dishes, cooked dinner, hung out with friends, and then stayed up too late writing a blog about the ills of lima beans.

Right now life is just; well, a little stagnant.

Someone, PLEASE MAKE ME LAUGH!

24

On the brink of midnight at the edge of the world it is tomorrow everywhere but here. I wonder what will happen when the clock strikes 12. I sit with my back to my headboard. Two of my oldest friends sit at the bottom of my bed. Legs crossed, we wait out the minutes to a new day. I cherish this moment. What a blessing it is to have great friends. It feels a little bit like high school again. Sitting in a circle in my room laughing about life. Things are different now. There is a toddler who won't fall asleep watching Hercules in the living room. We don't go home to our parent's house but to our own homes, families, boyfriends, husbands, kids. But in this moment it is easy to feel 16 again. I wouldn't want to do high school over again. However, to feel naive and forget the world in the last minutes before a birthday is nice. It's actually nice that while things change every day some things never do.

I didn't think I would feel differently but that night I would meet my dreams older and hopefully wiser. I still feel 23. But I do feel different. Even I know that seconds can change people. These 12 uneventful seconds did not make me 16 again but it made me see my life in a new way. It is my birthday wish that every year that I am blessed with I will remember turning 24. Remember that no matter how life changes that I should always take the good with the bad and when the clock strikes 12 on the 12th of June in the land of the midnight sun that I will know how blessed I am. Just to live.

Afterall, without the bad the good isn't nearly as sweet.

I hope that I have conveyed more than nonsense in this post. I hope you find in yourself what I am finding in myself every day. I hope you cherish your friendships, your familes, and your days.

Sara

"I tell people I am training for a marathon when I am really sitting on my couch watching Jersey Shore"

I love Post Secret. It coddles the part of me that not many people will ever know. The lonely part, the misunderstood part, the confused part. But most of all it makes me feel connected to humanity in a way that few things could because it speaks to my scared part. I am not the only one who doesn't want to tell anyone about a thought or event for fear of being judged or because it's too personal.

For those of you who don't know what Post Secret is check it out at wwww.postsecret.com. Basically it is a nationwide community art project where you write a secret on a post card and send it to a guy in Maryland who posts them in books, on the Internet, and speaks at universities throughout the country. They come in all varieties: sad, funny, ridiculous, disturbing, terrifying.

The title of today's entry was stolen from one of last week's "Sunday Secrets". It made me laugh. We have all told a lie before to make it seem as if we are being more productive than we actually are. At least I think we do. I have. And I feel connected to this person because so have they. It makes you feel a little less alone in the world.

So, in light of my proclamation of Post Secret adoration; here are some of my own secrets.

I pilfer post-it notes from work. Not whole tablets or anything-I'm not a thief but I probably use 7 or 8 sheets a week. I write the mean things I think but do not say on them and then I throw them away. If the cleaning lady ever had the notion to dig through my trash she may find out that I am not very ladylike.

I despise Lima beans. They are a sick and foul tasting bean.

I hate the word 'moist'.

I fear that people see me as a weak person.

:o) And I sent one into Post Secret anonymously. Maybe you will see it someday...the beautiful thing is that sending it has allowed me to let go.

A Semicolon Kind of Life.

Just when you were depressed because you thought I would never write again; I am back to dazzle you with my...wits.

For anyone who doesn't know, I stole "dazzle you with my...wits" from Julia Stiles a la one of my most favorite films of all time, "10 Things I Hate About You" circa 1999. Now, Heath Ledger may have died but he lives on in my heart as Patrick Verona. It's okay Julia. I hate his combat boots too.

Are you wondering what I am talking about? The truth is, I was just trying to give you some insight into my completely non lateral thought processes. I swear on my flameless, wickless scentsy candle that I had the following four thoughts in a succession the other day; I love Erika, it's a nice day, monarch butterflies, I lose.

I mean really, how is a girl supposed to get anything done when her mind is in a million places at once? I remember the routing numbers for every bank in Alaska. but I cannot, without exception, remember where I parked my car. I have also developed a habit of misusing semicolons. Basically you are supposed to use a semicolon when connecting loosely related thoughts and a comma is not strong enough. For instance:

Incorrect: The cow is brown, it is also old.
Correct: The cow is brown; it is also old.

I feel like my life is a little bit like a semicolon. Just a lot of loosely related thoughts and events strung together with a sense of duty, responsibility, and love acting as the semicolon. If the semicolon=joy then we would have a lifetime of loosely related days held together by happiness.

;

I am serious though, if we ever have a woman president, I hope she is nothing like me because somehow the president thinking I love the first man, it's raining, healthcare debate, I want to learn how to make homemade pasta disturbs me.

Until next time; have a semicolon=joy kind of day!

Sara

Selectively Classy

I must tell you a secret about my mother. She is secretly a snob like me but is real nice about it. Do you know that she does not like to pour juice out of a plastic pitcher? True story. So for Mother's Day I got her a beautiful glass juice pitcher. Then, the other day I see her eating her cheerios out of a plastic measuring bowl. Haha, now that is class. I of course teased her about it endlessly and she will most likely kill me when she reads this. But I am her flesh and blood daughter so she will still be my biggest fan. It's pretty much a requirement.

Anyway, the above event made me realize that most all women participate in some form of "class juggle". Some days we get it and others we drop every pin to the ground.

I stand there in a pair of heels, gray slacks, and a white sweater looking put together if I do say so myself and the words, "blow it out your ass" come out of my mouth. I mean really; leave it to me to put the "ass" in "class." I can dress up, decorate really cute, be professional, act sweet, do my hair  but the swearing like a fucking sailor is so bad. I try really hard to just, you know, not but I am totally cursed by stress induced word vomit. Plus, for some reason, it's sometimes so much funnier with a swear.

Why do women put on makeup and do their nails and then go to the store in a shirt with a picture of their dog appliqued to the front? Let us be real: your $500 coach bag does not cover up that you look like you haven't washed your hair since the turn of the century. These are examples of selective class.
Next time I choose a naughty word over something with a little more charm I will remember that we all have a little selective class in us and just try to do better the next time I open my mouth.

Until tomorrow, blow it out your ass.

Sara

I do best with less sleep?

Fair warning: If you are looking for laughs, start with yesterday's post.

For those that still remain the following words are written as "breaking up is hard to do and other cliches" type stuff.

When I am sitting in a mediation room: me, him, and a mediator and the last 5 months of mind altering absurdity is coming to a head, all I could think of was being in Ireland. I have never been but as he was divulging intimate details about our relationship to a complete stranger I was in a pub drinking a beer.The door was open, the breeze was fresh, and the band was great. I frequent this place. I conjure it in the worst moments. A Gerard Butler a la PS I Love You type approaches me and I instantly know this is the man I am going to spend my life with.

Except I am not in Ireland. My eyes are staring out of focus at a brochure titled "Divorcing with Dignity". The table is obnoxiously wobbly. I wonder how long he has been talking. I wonder how we got here. I am not sitting with Gerard but with an ex boyfriend who is growing a strange, very thin mustache.

The illusion is shattered.

I don't want to fight. I want to be done. We make agreements. He asks "What about couple counseling?" I laugh hysterically. He takes it back. I just can't do it anymore. He doesn't uphold any of the agreements. He doesn't ever do anything. I cannot say I am surprised; isn't that why I broke up with him in the first place? He says what he knows will get to me.

After too much sugar, way too much caffeine, and far too many tears I know what I have to do. I have to do whatever I can to get him completely out of my life. For all the women out there who have wanted to leave but couldn't, didn't, haven't but should I have this to say: The leaving is messy, the ending is imperfect, and the result is being able to find true happiness. In yourself.

Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen in their movie It Takes Two said it well, "I want that can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars over the fence, world series kind of love."

I'll drink to that. Now if only I could find my PS I Love You -esque man phase 2 would be complete.

You're an Antonym for Clever.

As I turned off the TV and climbed into bed I pondered what would make this sunny Saturday even better. The answer, of course, is a quick jaunt over to the fruit bearing tree of humanity best known as craigslist.

This is a difficult ad to get through-but trust me, it's a gem:

Hook, line, sinker -25 East Anchorage

After long awaited return im back, and i seen a seagull today. Why is that important you ask and only one thing comes to mind, fishing season. As many people flock to the rivers and streams i would like to snag me something up myself. Im not like many other anglers, i dont like hooking into something huge but i still like a good fight. If you surface and splash like shamu ill cut the line in a heart beat, i like a nice fit fish and heard the ones under 130 taste alot better then the large "trophy" fish. Though i still want a "trophy" i want it to be something that i can mount but i could still take on out door adventurers. So if your the kinda fish i would find half way between crow creek pass and eagle river you might just be a good catch. Send out some "bait" (a picture) and ill see what my rod does.

Recovering nice guy


I have the following unanswered questions for our gentleman caller:

1.) Who was awaiting his return?
2.) Why doesn't he capitalize "i"?
3.) Why does he hate apostrophes and proper punctuation?
4.) Why does he put "bait" in quotations and then explain what he means in parentheses?
5.) Have his beautiful metaphoric abilities ever actually gotten him laid?
6.) Why did he have to mention his rod?
7.) Why does he want a fight; is he talking about rape?
8.) What is the likelihood of catching an ORCA in an Alaskan stream?
9.) Did anyone respond to this bullshit?

I am so confused. Will someone please email this idiot and tell him that if his ad actually gets him a date to please use a condom to avoid reproducing? This metaphor gets a D for dumb. This is one poster that should have paid attention in English class or watched the "School House Rock" a second time; aye Bill?

I'm super happy that he seen a seagull but my advice to this guy is to keep baiting...because that's the only action he is likely to get. Women are not fish. You are not clever.

Alright, that's enough cattiness for today. Until next time, get out doors and enjoy your "adventurers"!

Sara

You are not allowed to talk to me like that: Work place filters.

Everyone in this business knows that escrow is a big raucous, a sometimes catty mess, and always full of people in the "different" category. I am breaking my own rules with this entry: No writing about religion, work, or politics. But today I am rebelling. What are rules if they aren't meant to be broken anyway?

I sometimes feel like I am living in a "Where The Wild Things Are" world and it's fun to roar my terrible roar, gnash my terrible teeth, and do whatever it is with my claws...I don't remember. At any rate, there is a time and a place to be productive, to be silly, to be serious, to be catty. For instance, the appropriate time for venting about work is on the deck of a restaurant with a cheesy fry in one hand and a margarita in the other with a girlfriend/coworker who just spent the week in escrow hell with you; staying until 8, having too many smoke breaks, and wondering what is happening. And your coworker says, "Oh my God and that (insert name here). She wore those khakis and came to work looking all tore up from the floor up. Does she even wash her hair. I mean really." To which I respond, "I know right? Maybe she needs a raise so she can afford a clue."

I know. Totally not nice. But what is a little cattiness between friends? What bothers me is people with whom you have no relationship outside of work who feel like they are entitled to have an opinion about your personal life.

Today I was told by a coworker that a perfectly appropriate dress I was wearing was hideous. First of all, this person is a dude. Second of all, I do not hang out with this person outside of work. Thirdly, and lastly, WHAT? It hurt my feelings. It would be one thing for a manager or a friend to politely discourage future wearing of said dress...but  who do you think you are? Have you no filter? There is nothing wrong with said dress.

There are some things you are not allowed to say. Some people have no tact. Some people have no ability to discern the difference between a friend and a coworker. Sometimes, your coworkers are your friends. But sometimes your coworkers are your coworkers.

Time to learn the difference.

Sara

Training Carrier Pigeons for 2012

I have a very important topic to discuss today: Training carrier pigeons for the end of the world. After massive amounts of research that involved typing "how to train a carrier pigeon" into google I came up with this very simple tutorial from ehow. (For all you computer illiterates-click on the blue)

This will be very important for communication with each other when the power grid goes offline. Erika and I are already discussing the logitics of keeping and training homing pigeons and if you are unprepared, you CANNOT HAVE ONE OF OURS! Rescources may be scarce and we do not want to get into the habit of sharing. I mean really, who do we look like? The bloody Federal Emergency Management Agency?

In all seriousness I am a little bit of a "what if" type. I don't have an underground bunker with a freshwater supply where I keep 15 years worth of canned goods or anything (and if I did you aren't invited to it) but I do believe that disaster preparedness is important. I advocate that every family should have a plan in case of an emergency. With an increasing number of countries having nuclear capabilities, the return of the aliens in 2012 and mother earth being peeved as of late it is more important than ever to be prepared should the worst happen.

No, I am not paranoid. But just in case, get your homing pigeon today!

Do not admire your naked body in the mirror. It is uncomfortable for everyone.

Now that I have become a rather avid gym goer I now feel like I have the authority to parent a blog entry on gym etiquette. There is so much wrong with the way people behave in the locker room, the weight room, the cardio room-I don't even know where to start.

Here is a bulleted list of gym peeves:

*People who leave their towels on the floor. I mean really. You are at the GYM and you cannot walk 20 feet to the designated dirty towel container?
*People who do not clean the machines after use. I don't even like my own sweat. Why would I want to be intimate with yours?
*People who let their kids run around in the locker room when there is a very large sign that states: NO CHILDREN UNDER 14 ALLOWED IN THIS LOCKER ROOM.
*People who get in the hot tub naked. I know, it's a women's locker room and your bathing suit doesn't cover that much anyway but it is not a Greek Bathhouse for heaven's sake. Nobody wants to slide in to soak next to naked girl.
*This one goes along with the first one: People who compete for front row parking. Again, you know you're at the gym yeah?
*Women who remain naked for an excessive period of time. Unfortunately for you, you're not still in utero and are required by society to wear clothes.

I don't know if anyone else has this brand of experience with the gym but I know I cannot be the only one. The other day I was getting ready for work after exercising and who comes up to me in the mirror but some naked girl checking herself out in the mirror next to mine. WTF? I understand maybe a walk up and check out but she was examining herself for at least 3 minutes. Weird.

THEN on another occasion I walked out of the shower room behind someone and she dropped her loofah. She stopped right in front of me and bent over. Wow, I had never seen it from that angle before. Talk about totally freaking weird for me.

To summarize; if you go to a gym where there are other people the following rules apply to you:

1.) Don't be lazy.
2.) Don't be gross.
3.) Don't be in the hot tub naked.

Not hard.

Until next time, stay clothed!

Sara