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