A few weeks ago I bought my first set of "grown up" sheets. I saw them at Target. Thomas O'Brien vintage collection, gray, and they matched my bedding just perfectly. Admittedly my $12 Wal Mart fitted sheet had been washed to the point that the elastic didn't have any more stretch to give and the flat sheet...well, let's not talk about that. But as far as the ol' budget goes sheets are not at the top of the mad money priority list.
So I picked them up. And I put them down. And I walked down the aisle, turned around. Picked them up, put them down, looked at the price, walked away. I looked at cosmetics, went back to bedding. Picked them up, put them down. Put them in my cart. Mentally balanced my check book. Walked away. Brought them back. PUT THEM AWAY. Picked them up. Bought them. Walked to the car. Immediately had buyer's remorse. Wanted to return them. Kept them and as I peeled off those ugly, old, thread bare, discount sheets I realized how crazy I probably looked to everyone in Target and how I should have done this MONTHS ago. I was frustrated with myself for giving myself such a hard time for making a purchase that while slightly frivolous bordered on the 'need to buy' category.
And ever since that moment I have been writing this post in my head. I know that I am not the only woman who does this to herself. And why? Why do we do this? And I realized it is because of this ridiculous and contentious need to be everything to everyone all the time.
Well I am not. And I am not going to feel inadequate or selfish over sheets. Or over women who are more beautiful than me. Or over trying desperately to find that balance between not enough and too much in every situation that does or possibly could arise. We drive ourselves crazy over these small, trivial things. We make ourselves miserable over $75.00 sheets, unused coupons, and fingerprints on the coffee table. I can do what I can but I can't do it all and I want to teach myself that I don't have to.
I am thankful for what I am. Strong, smart, independent, funny, compassionate, and open hearted. I want to embrace what I know to be true and stop obsessing and expending unimaginable amounts of time and energy so that people (who are going to think what they are going to think regardless) will like me more. I am likable for exactly who I am today. I am worthy of friendship, love, and happiness for exactly what I am right now.
So let's let them talk. And let's be more thankful for who we are than guilty for what we are not.
The seed of the happiness that is steeped in content can only begin to grow if you find it in your heart to let it.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Cups.
EDIT: I wrote this after reading Psalm 23. It is meant to be about grace and forgiveness. About being thankful that no matter how dark the day that you can cry out "Oh Lord!" and have your cup filled by the grace of God.
"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over." Psalm 23:5
I am tired. But weary is a better word.
Weary of people being less than they should.
Weary from disappointment.
Tired of feeling ashamed.
Of who I am.Of who I am not.
Of who I don't choose to love.
My cup here is empty and
I have nothing left to give.
I am sad. But solemn is a better word.
Solemn because of cold sheets after long days.
Solemn from loneliness.
Sad because of love.
Of what I feel. Of what I can't feel.
Of what goes unreturned.
My cup here is empty and
I have nothing left to give.
I am sick. But weakness is a better word.
Weak from problems that never seem to cease.
Weak from my flesh.
Sick from no forgiveness.
Of who I can't. Of who I won't.
Of who I hate for ruining my life.
My cup here is empty and I have nothing left to give.
:
I have nothing left to give but an empty cup.
And weary, solemn weakness.
Oh Psalm of David, what were your words?
I know of your sins and your forgiveness.
What do you think of them now?
"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over." Psalm 23:5
I am tired. But weary is a better word.
Weary of people being less than they should.
Weary from disappointment.
Tired of feeling ashamed.
Of who I am.Of who I am not.
Of who I don't choose to love.
My cup here is empty and
I have nothing left to give.
I am sad. But solemn is a better word.
Solemn because of cold sheets after long days.
Solemn from loneliness.
Sad because of love.
Of what I feel. Of what I can't feel.
Of what goes unreturned.
My cup here is empty and
I have nothing left to give.
I am sick. But weakness is a better word.
Weak from problems that never seem to cease.
Weak from my flesh.
Sick from no forgiveness.
Of who I can't. Of who I won't.
Of who I hate for ruining my life.
My cup here is empty and I have nothing left to give.
:
I have nothing left to give but an empty cup.
And weary, solemn weakness.
Oh Psalm of David, what were your words?
I know of your sins and your forgiveness.
What do you think of them now?
Friday, October 19, 2012
Words.
Sometimes, words come so easily to me. And others, as anyone who was present at Allison Curbow's bachelorette party toast fiasco already knows, sometimes-they don't. But either way when I am happy I can type up page long dissertations in seconds no matter whether the subject is good, bad, or even particularly interesting. But when I am discontent its as if my fingers don't understand the language and I will stare at a blinking, vertical cursor forever and nothing comes. Eventually I give up and move on to some sort of monotony that might comfort my thoughts.
It is a weird sort of shut down mechanism; whenever the world is too much for me I can't put anything into words. I can't write about sadness. Like I am some sort of literary sociopath. I can feel it. So deeply. But to lose someone you thought you knew. I don't know how to write about that. To want someone in your life so much and not be able to have them like you want. I don't know how to write about that. Feeling lost and stuck and hurting...I can't write about that.
But what I can write about, constantly, is that when I come out of my bouts of frustration, sadness, infuriation, etc that I come out knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that life is nothing you expect and everything that's beautiful.
Someone told me recently that it is hard to be friends with me because I don't believe in myself. That I am demanding. That I think everything is about me. And after a lot of thought, I am glad this person said this. Not because I had a sudden epiphany about what a bad friend and shoddy person I had become but because I know in my heart that I would give everything to someone who needed it more than me and have, even though it has sometimes meant that I went without. I make deliberate choices. I think about things (sometimes too much). I make responsible choices. I always try not to say things I don't mean. I am willing to do the right thing even if it isn't easy. I tell people the truth even when my ideas are unwelcome.
And like me, hate me, or have no feelings one way or the other...just know that if you ask, I will open my heart; and that's what I write about. Because underneath even the bad days, love is all I know.
Sara
It is a weird sort of shut down mechanism; whenever the world is too much for me I can't put anything into words. I can't write about sadness. Like I am some sort of literary sociopath. I can feel it. So deeply. But to lose someone you thought you knew. I don't know how to write about that. To want someone in your life so much and not be able to have them like you want. I don't know how to write about that. Feeling lost and stuck and hurting...I can't write about that.
But what I can write about, constantly, is that when I come out of my bouts of frustration, sadness, infuriation, etc that I come out knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that life is nothing you expect and everything that's beautiful.
Someone told me recently that it is hard to be friends with me because I don't believe in myself. That I am demanding. That I think everything is about me. And after a lot of thought, I am glad this person said this. Not because I had a sudden epiphany about what a bad friend and shoddy person I had become but because I know in my heart that I would give everything to someone who needed it more than me and have, even though it has sometimes meant that I went without. I make deliberate choices. I think about things (sometimes too much). I make responsible choices. I always try not to say things I don't mean. I am willing to do the right thing even if it isn't easy. I tell people the truth even when my ideas are unwelcome.
And like me, hate me, or have no feelings one way or the other...just know that if you ask, I will open my heart; and that's what I write about. Because underneath even the bad days, love is all I know.
Sara
Friday, September 14, 2012
The Legacy of Kitchens.
They say that the average person will spend 25 years of their lives sleeping. If that's the case, and it seems legit, I will spend at least 12 in a kitchen. Maybe not all of those years in my own but in someone's. Some of my most favorite memories take place in kitchens.
My mom cooking up dinner and turning to Brandy and me at the table where we were drinking too much soda and saying, "so girls, what's the drama?" with her hand on her hip. Never knowing at the time that we would cherish those moments (and the delicious hamburger helper that she was whipping up).
Cleaning up after a huge Thanksgiving meal with my aunt and my cousins while the men watch the TV. Baritone voices talking from the living room while I laugh with my grandma that we are just alike when it comes to the order of our houses and we tease her for the 10 thousandth time about what we can or cannot put in the trash compactor.
Doing dishes at the cabin with Aunt Diane when all the other kids had left to play. I don't remember what we talked about but she always made what I said important just by listening.
My friend Erika who can create a dish out of thin air and make it look like a breeze-commiserating and talking with her while she took over my kitchen.
Baking bread, making food, humming, singing, crying, cleaning, talking, laughing....all because of an oven.
Kitchens speak a feminine language that a man could never understand. And it is a legacy that you rob your daughters of if you don't let them sit and open cans and cut onions while you cook. They won't know how it feels to knead bread or lick the chocolate chip cookie bowl. They won't see the value of sitting in the oven warmed room and just simply being. They won't remember you as someone who turned around with a wooden spoon in her hand, shirt covered in flour. They won't have a memory of you elbows deep in boiling water washing greasy dishes and teaching them about life without saying a word.
They might not become the kind of women that know to set the table-or see the importance of eating at it. And they might not become the kind of young ladies that instead of watching MTV all afternoon will sit for hours on bar stools talking about everything and nothing and baking cup cakes.
Let the girls in your life laugh. Do the dishes with them. Sing too loud with them. Listen to them. Show them that no matter where they end up in life that where there is a kitchen there can be family, warmth, friendship and love.
I know that in my life, it has always made all the difference.
My mom cooking up dinner and turning to Brandy and me at the table where we were drinking too much soda and saying, "so girls, what's the drama?" with her hand on her hip. Never knowing at the time that we would cherish those moments (and the delicious hamburger helper that she was whipping up).
Cleaning up after a huge Thanksgiving meal with my aunt and my cousins while the men watch the TV. Baritone voices talking from the living room while I laugh with my grandma that we are just alike when it comes to the order of our houses and we tease her for the 10 thousandth time about what we can or cannot put in the trash compactor.
Doing dishes at the cabin with Aunt Diane when all the other kids had left to play. I don't remember what we talked about but she always made what I said important just by listening.
My friend Erika who can create a dish out of thin air and make it look like a breeze-commiserating and talking with her while she took over my kitchen.
Baking bread, making food, humming, singing, crying, cleaning, talking, laughing....all because of an oven.
Kitchens speak a feminine language that a man could never understand. And it is a legacy that you rob your daughters of if you don't let them sit and open cans and cut onions while you cook. They won't know how it feels to knead bread or lick the chocolate chip cookie bowl. They won't see the value of sitting in the oven warmed room and just simply being. They won't remember you as someone who turned around with a wooden spoon in her hand, shirt covered in flour. They won't have a memory of you elbows deep in boiling water washing greasy dishes and teaching them about life without saying a word.
They might not become the kind of women that know to set the table-or see the importance of eating at it. And they might not become the kind of young ladies that instead of watching MTV all afternoon will sit for hours on bar stools talking about everything and nothing and baking cup cakes.
Let the girls in your life laugh. Do the dishes with them. Sing too loud with them. Listen to them. Show them that no matter where they end up in life that where there is a kitchen there can be family, warmth, friendship and love.
I know that in my life, it has always made all the difference.
Friday, September 7, 2012
My closest friends are bee fighters.
hotandspicy600 - m4w - 24 (anchorage)
Dearest Hotandspicy600,
Also, I would like to contact you but I don't know which days are even. Do you start your week on a Monday or a Sunday because that clearly affects which days are even and which ones are odd?
Um, okay, that is all then! Let me know about the bee thing.
Thanks,
Sara
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Come, let us have tea and talk about things.
The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law-Galation 5:22
Fall in Alaska begins in August. This will be my 25th Alaskan summer and as any girl from the Last Frontier knows that after a leafy, beautiful fire show the trees will stand naked against nights that grow colder. Frosts steal the color from the yards, the flower beds, and the mountainside. The air is crisp and still. There is a sharp, well known smell outside. Like everything just waits for the blanket of snow. And within the month it will cover our world in white.
And I get a new beginning. Just like the snow makes everything new. Every year.
But still the leaves cling to the last bits of summer and dreary days will find me consuming more and more chai tea. And that is how today began and how it is ending. Me, a clean house, Michael Buble, and my tea. Reflecting on the summer and the year so far, what I have learned. And here is what I know for sure....
The spice of life is steeped in joy, peace, and love. The spice can only be found by appreciating the moments in each day where you can't help but be thankful. It is found in your best friend who can make any terrible day better because she understands you deeply. The laughter of a loved child. The morning murmurs of teenage girls just waking up from their sleepover. A day of shopping with your mom who no matter how many years pass never seems any older but who continues to give the best advice even though so many times it has not been taken. Your oldest friend taking vows that promise lifelong devotion to her husband. A visit from someone you love deeply even after the water under the bridge has gotten so deep that the shoreline has been swallowed.
Spice is one part pain of regret, two parts the fear of rejection, and three parts an aching, hurting heart; knowing that all the wishing in the world cannot change someone else; and stirring it passed anger and into hope.
It is remembering that whether you are a daughter, mother, wife, sister, or friend that you are both capable and deserving of forgiveness. Of love. Of moving on. It is acceptable to feel vulnerable. To feel sadness. To feel. But in the end to find happiness you have to know that happiness is not a destination. It is most often a choice that you make not in spite of the things around you but BECAUSE of them. Everyone has bad in their lives. But there is goodness in life too...and sometimes it hurts too much to see but that is when our eyes need to be open or we will miss the way the sun shines in beams through the clouds. The way someone looks at us. The way nothing is better for the soul than helping someone else. We will dwell on what didn't happen instead of what is right in front of us today. What is waiting in tomorrow.
Because it is all beautiful. To not see it, to miss out because we don't feel like it...I don't want to live like that. Do you?
Sara
The spice of life is steeped in joy, peace, and love. The spice can only be found by appreciating the moments in each day where you can't help but be thankful. It is found in your best friend who can make any terrible day better because she understands you deeply. The laughter of a loved child. The morning murmurs of teenage girls just waking up from their sleepover. A day of shopping with your mom who no matter how many years pass never seems any older but who continues to give the best advice even though so many times it has not been taken. Your oldest friend taking vows that promise lifelong devotion to her husband. A visit from someone you love deeply even after the water under the bridge has gotten so deep that the shoreline has been swallowed.
Spice is one part pain of regret, two parts the fear of rejection, and three parts an aching, hurting heart; knowing that all the wishing in the world cannot change someone else; and stirring it passed anger and into hope.
It is remembering that whether you are a daughter, mother, wife, sister, or friend that you are both capable and deserving of forgiveness. Of love. Of moving on. It is acceptable to feel vulnerable. To feel sadness. To feel. But in the end to find happiness you have to know that happiness is not a destination. It is most often a choice that you make not in spite of the things around you but BECAUSE of them. Everyone has bad in their lives. But there is goodness in life too...and sometimes it hurts too much to see but that is when our eyes need to be open or we will miss the way the sun shines in beams through the clouds. The way someone looks at us. The way nothing is better for the soul than helping someone else. We will dwell on what didn't happen instead of what is right in front of us today. What is waiting in tomorrow.
Because it is all beautiful. To not see it, to miss out because we don't feel like it...I don't want to live like that. Do you?
Sara
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Can you be alone with yourself and like the company you keep in empty moments?
My house is usually a beacon of light in the darkness resulting from either someone having fallen asleep on the couch or a general lack of energy savings awareness on the part of one certain teenager. But tonight she has gone to bed and flipped all the switches. The house is silent, not even my dogs bark, but it is alive with sweet, warm energy.
I drop my gym bag and over sized black leather purse onto the chaise and I go about my nightly routine. Checking locks, closing shades, turning on nightlights, feeding the dogs. The routine is comforting. Especially after today. It feels good to do something that I do every night. It brings be clarity even as I feel emotionally crippled. My head hurts from sobbing. My contacts are fuzzy from tears. And the actual pain from a breaking heart is fresh in my chest.
Don't you know, silly girl, that you can't call it a year without doing something you knew better than to do?
My room is a wreck but I dive into my unmade bed and ignore the total chaos. I have three books on my nightstand. My bible, A water wrinkled, page stained copy of The Invitation, and a book of prayers.When I feel this way I usually reach for my bible but I know there is a line in The Invitation that my mind is so trying to grasp right now.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive...I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow; if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.
My breathing is calm and even now. I'm not afraid to love. Deeply, faithfully, and with everything I have. I should remember more often that not everyone has the same character as me. But I know that I will love them anyway. I don't know any other way to be. I am not still so young that I believe love conquers everything but I do believe that you will never know what it can do unless you feel it and live it and let it show in all that you do.
I forgot my water bottle in the car. As I step into the night air the porch light clicks on. Sometime today 3 new roses and a whole line of wildflowers have bloomed in the small garden along the sidewalk. So much delicate beauty. And in all its fragile states, life goes on. As I stood in front of the rose bush like a modern version of Snow White with less birds, less evil step mothers, and better clothes I was absolutely sure of one thing:
Someday my prince will come.
Someday my prince will come.
Goodnight beautiful world,
Sara.
Monday, July 30, 2012
"Ten years of this, I'm not sure if anybody understands"
Only a blind man could not be inspired by a moment like this. Right now I am sitting on the shore of Gold Cord Lake. The water is in front of me and the mountains surround me. I made it to the top a while ago and have since been mostly alone, just me and the dogs. When an hour passed and there were no people I swam in the freezing, clear water...an endeavor that which, if ever repeated will be followed by post swim bug dope bath.
I am feeling with every sense. The silence echoes the sound of cars on the long road in the valley but since I have spent the last two hours chasing the sunshine around the lake there are almost none. I close my eyes against the sky and listen. The spirit of the earth speaks in rushing streams, breathing dogs, and rock chuck chirps. Every so often I even here the eerie siren of an eagle. I am trying to take it all in and I smile at nothing in particular. I run my bare feet across the moss covered rock where I sit. I breathe the mountain air every few minutes I catch the scent of wet dogs as they dart back and forth, so happy to be in a state of total freedom.
My mind feels free.
There is no one needing me right now. No phone ringing. No email to answer. Just me. By myself in a place where no one is asking. Where I don't have to tell. And most of all there is no one judging me on my choices or my hair or my weight. I am exactly who I am. I know it has to end. I can't stay here all night and Bailey seems to think it is time to go. She is bouncing back and forth between the trail and the rocks. There is now no sun touching the lake and the shade is beginning to shroud the shore as well. I decide she is probably right. Balto has grown bored and is sticking his head in a marmot hole.
The trip down is quiet. There is a park ranger in the visitors lot but that is all. I am in no hurry to get back to civilization so I walk slowly thinking about my life. Feeling the peace that comes from within. Feeling moved. By the time I reached my house I was feeling sad that I had no one to share the evening with. That it was just me and suddenly I felt reassured that it would not always be so. I need to appreciate this season because it won't always be that I have an evening where the only responsibility I have is one to myself.
It is good to enjoy the company you keep when you are alone. But it is also okay to feel lonely. Because if I wasn't lonely right now I would never have known that I wasn't supposed to share this moment with anyone because God was sharing it with me.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
A letter to my sisters
I have always wished I'd had a sister. Someone who understood me better than anyone because we had the same parents and the same experiences. Of course, this never happened and I grew up happy and healthy despite the chromosomal differential of my only sibling (who I love!) :o).
And on my 25th birthday I realized how rich I am with sisterhood. I am 25 and I still have best friends. Unabashed, middle school style bffs. And while I probably won't be buying them friends forever heart necklaces from Claire's for Christmas my adult life has proven that these girls are so much more than just people I pass the time with. They are my kindred spirits, my encouragement, and (as my oldest friend called me) the sisters of my soul.
I am so thankful for the love of people who take me for everything I am and accept me for everything I am not. To have the opportunity to love them and be there for them. They are always a place of understanding, honesty, and a constant source for laughter. What a beautiful thing to know and a priceless thing to have.
Ruth 1:16
And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God:
Proverbs 27:17
Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.
Thank you for being part of my life. For helping me become a better person and a stronger woman. No matter the distance between us, real or imagined, I love you. Seriously!
And on my 25th birthday I realized how rich I am with sisterhood. I am 25 and I still have best friends. Unabashed, middle school style bffs. And while I probably won't be buying them friends forever heart necklaces from Claire's for Christmas my adult life has proven that these girls are so much more than just people I pass the time with. They are my kindred spirits, my encouragement, and (as my oldest friend called me) the sisters of my soul.
I am so thankful for the love of people who take me for everything I am and accept me for everything I am not. To have the opportunity to love them and be there for them. They are always a place of understanding, honesty, and a constant source for laughter. What a beautiful thing to know and a priceless thing to have.
Ruth 1:16
And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God:
Proverbs 27:17
Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.
Thank you for being part of my life. For helping me become a better person and a stronger woman. No matter the distance between us, real or imagined, I love you. Seriously!
Thursday, May 31, 2012
What A Total Pratt: A CL Edition.
It has been so long, too long I think, since I have done a CL edition. I felt so inspired after reading this one though that I couldn't help but do my thing.
Where are the real girls at? Seriously. - m4w - 22 (Soldotna)
Date: 2012-05-31, 12:29AM AKDT
Reply to: c9jr3-3043865838@pers.craigslist.org
This is so weird. I am posting an ad on Craigslist to find girls. I mean really? I'm not some awkward person I'm actually quite the opposite. I'll show pictures because I don't care. I don't even live in anchorage. But i drive up all the time. I'm just tired of going out and seeing these girls that aren't even good looking. Or just weird or whatever. For instance, Im trying to dance with an actual cute girl and then there's her boyfriend who just starts acting really sad and angry. Then the rest of the girls around are just no good.
Ok so now it sounds like I go to the bars all the time. Not true. But I do like to have fun. Everyone says I'm crazy. Its great. Hahaha
So enough with that. I know there's random girls that read these but they think these guys are creepers and weird.
So if there's any real girls out there that are good looking feel free to reply. This has been a huge rant just because I don't want some elephant blowing up my phone. Everyone's going to be really sad about everything I'm saying but I'm just saying what everyone else is too afraid to say.
So no whales. Just saying.
I dont want a girlfriend. Especially one off Craigslist. But I mean think of how cool that would make me. Call me or text me or whatever and then this weekend we will go have fun.
I'm going to spell out my phone number because I guess that's cool.
Nine oh seven. Three nine four. Four nine oh seven.
Or you can email me and I'll just take alot longer to respond. Here's pictures of me with just randoms.
I'm actually an awesome guy. This makes me sound crazy though.
Ok so now it sounds like I go to the bars all the time. Not true. But I do like to have fun. Everyone says I'm crazy. Its great. Hahaha
So enough with that. I know there's random girls that read these but they think these guys are creepers and weird.
So if there's any real girls out there that are good looking feel free to reply. This has been a huge rant just because I don't want some elephant blowing up my phone. Everyone's going to be really sad about everything I'm saying but I'm just saying what everyone else is too afraid to say.
So no whales. Just saying.
I dont want a girlfriend. Especially one off Craigslist. But I mean think of how cool that would make me. Call me or text me or whatever and then this weekend we will go have fun.
I'm going to spell out my phone number because I guess that's cool.
Nine oh seven. Three nine four. Four nine oh seven.
Or you can email me and I'll just take alot longer to respond. Here's pictures of me with just randoms.
I'm actually an awesome guy. This makes me sound crazy though.
____________________________________________________
Dear "Where The Girls At?",
First of all in answer to your question I just want to point out that you live in Soldotna. I could be wrong but might it just be possible that the "girls" are not in Soldotna?
My main reason for writing however isn't to discuss the Soldotna census but rather that I am worried about your sobriety; were you drunk when you posted this? I am not asking because you ended the title of your ad with a preposition but more because that would be the only thing to excuse this much dumb.
I became especially lost about mid way when you began spouting hatred for large animals. Maybe you have had a bad experience with elephants but sir, I must assure you that I have never known an elephant to blow up someone's phone. How silly!
Also I am appalled at your accusation that only awkward people post on CL. I mean really, sometimes a girl just has to sell her Pomapoos for $1,000 each. (A Pomapoo is a cross between a Poodle and a Pomeranian. Must I explain everything!?) That doesn't mean she is awkward, it means she is a crook. No one wants your stupid designer dog! But I digress.
Your post didn't make me sad at all really...mostly because I didn't understand where you were going. You kept saying blah blah, I am not crazy, blah blah, people on CL are all losers, I hate large ocean dwellers blah blah. Me thinks that thou doth protesteth too much if you know what I mean.
Oh, and just as a side note when people say, "you're so crazy" it is usually code for: You are the most obnoxious person I have ever spoken to but I am a nice and unsure about how you will retaliate so I will just giggle and say something harmless like 'you're so crazy.' It's not a funny compliment, I promise.
In conclusion, would you mind toning down the stupid? Your brand of annoying is making me wish I could make you put a dollar in the douche bag jar.
Happy to help!
Sara
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
You're not really a woman until...
I am vaguely sure that the punishment for all the crap we put our moms through is this:
Totally random, oddly spaced beard hairs that appear out of nowhere. One morning you just wake up and BAM there it is in all its manly glory. One very long hair on your chin that was most definitely not visible the night before is growing out of your chin like a mini version of Jack's magical beanstalk.
But you aren't yet a woman of substance until you are touching up your make up in your office and one wayward follicle puts you in such a panic that you begin to dig frantically for something, anything that will make it go away. You dump your purse out on your desk but are unable to find any device capable of plucking that lone beard hair. Until....
Totally random, oddly spaced beard hairs that appear out of nowhere. One morning you just wake up and BAM there it is in all its manly glory. One very long hair on your chin that was most definitely not visible the night before is growing out of your chin like a mini version of Jack's magical beanstalk.
But you aren't yet a woman of substance until you are touching up your make up in your office and one wayward follicle puts you in such a panic that you begin to dig frantically for something, anything that will make it go away. You dump your purse out on your desk but are unable to find any device capable of plucking that lone beard hair. Until....
I know. It is truly tragic. But this isn't a carnival; what is a girl to do. Really.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
The Journey
Since I have been unable to find the words I want to say lately...I will let someone else speak for me.
The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.
~ Mary Oliver ~
Monday, April 30, 2012
Reason 1 of 10 why I am batshit crazy.
Today something horrible happened. Seriously horrible. I don't know what percentage of the female race has been party to this sort of catastrophe but recent polls done scientifically by me asking women in my office show that this has happened to 100% of women. With such a high victimization rate you would expect that someone would have talked about it, come to some sort of solution, SOMETHING.
Why, oh why does the the thigh rip out of your pants at the most inopportune moment so that you will be both embarrassed and distraught over your thigh skin showing through a rip in your pants. I mean really. Oh sure, it's no problem to have your inner thigh exposed to your clients. It is totally fine.
So there I was chatting and having a root beer float with the dear Realtors on the deck upstairs when a small gust of wind sent a napkin floating into the air. Unsuspecting of any sort of thread integrity problem I bent to retrieve it and the whole patio was just silent enough for me to hear the resounding tear. Of my pants. Awesome. No seriously, I like it.
I love that now there is a piece of masking tape scraping the crap out of my leg as a temporary fix to the permanent problem of my pants that are now junk.
Now I need to start an offering for my new charity, "The fat girls' foundation for fraying knickers". Imagine donating to that with your PFD. Pick. Click. Give! I know I would. I feel you sisters, I feel you.
I mean my phone is a computer and denim still wears out. I need more my pants to be more scientific. Much more scientific and borg-y.
Welcome to my life fraught with sadness. Welcome to the denim disaster diaries. Any condolence would be deeply appreciated,.
Why, oh why does the the thigh rip out of your pants at the most inopportune moment so that you will be both embarrassed and distraught over your thigh skin showing through a rip in your pants. I mean really. Oh sure, it's no problem to have your inner thigh exposed to your clients. It is totally fine.
So there I was chatting and having a root beer float with the dear Realtors on the deck upstairs when a small gust of wind sent a napkin floating into the air. Unsuspecting of any sort of thread integrity problem I bent to retrieve it and the whole patio was just silent enough for me to hear the resounding tear. Of my pants. Awesome. No seriously, I like it.
I love that now there is a piece of masking tape scraping the crap out of my leg as a temporary fix to the permanent problem of my pants that are now junk.
Now I need to start an offering for my new charity, "The fat girls' foundation for fraying knickers". Imagine donating to that with your PFD. Pick. Click. Give! I know I would. I feel you sisters, I feel you.
I mean my phone is a computer and denim still wears out. I need more my pants to be more scientific. Much more scientific and borg-y.
Welcome to my life fraught with sadness. Welcome to the denim disaster diaries. Any condolence would be deeply appreciated,.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Things I have anxiety over that I shouldn't. Part 2: items 4-8
This is mostly a blog with my appearance based anxieties.
4.) The zombie apocalypse. I mean, everyone is talking about it. If I am honest with myself I can admit that I am way to out of shape to outrun the blood seeking undead. I once had a dream that I was at the office by myself and I was walking through the back door where we store all the boxes of old files and zombies started climbing out of the old cubicles and over the boxes and I had to run away. And this was terrifying because it meant that I will probably be killed by zombies.
5.) Everyone hates me. This is basically impossible. I have a gigantic family that is basically required to love me. I am a friendly, social, kind, and fairly introspective person. The likelihood of everyone hating me is zero. However, here we are.
6.) Developing cankles.
7.) Not knowing where to find something at the store. I once had to ask nice, attractive young gentleman if he could point me in the direction of the lard. Can you imagine what a laugh he got later that the fat...errr voluptuous chick at the store asked where the lard was? It scarred me for life.
8.) That I will be on an episode of Maury called 'I am big, sexy, and I know it". And I am sitting on the couch in too revealing lingerie with my name on the bottom of the screen with a caption that says, "I gots it and I flaunts it." Oh my.
4.) The zombie apocalypse. I mean, everyone is talking about it. If I am honest with myself I can admit that I am way to out of shape to outrun the blood seeking undead. I once had a dream that I was at the office by myself and I was walking through the back door where we store all the boxes of old files and zombies started climbing out of the old cubicles and over the boxes and I had to run away. And this was terrifying because it meant that I will probably be killed by zombies.
5.) Everyone hates me. This is basically impossible. I have a gigantic family that is basically required to love me. I am a friendly, social, kind, and fairly introspective person. The likelihood of everyone hating me is zero. However, here we are.
6.) Developing cankles.
7.) Not knowing where to find something at the store. I once had to ask nice, attractive young gentleman if he could point me in the direction of the lard. Can you imagine what a laugh he got later that the fat...errr voluptuous chick at the store asked where the lard was? It scarred me for life.
8.) That I will be on an episode of Maury called 'I am big, sexy, and I know it". And I am sitting on the couch in too revealing lingerie with my name on the bottom of the screen with a caption that says, "I gots it and I flaunts it." Oh my.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Today.
My day began with The Invitation. My cousin posted a hard to read portion of it to my Facebook page but I recognized it immediately as the Oriah poem that I once vowed to live by. So much has happened since I first read those words. So many days have passed since I picked up the book at Barnes and Noble. One small book with a sunflower on the cover. It was on sale and I bought it because it matched my decor of all reasons. Typical Sara move really. I buy into something for the outside and am fundamentally changed by the heart of it all.
"I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul."
I feel like if I treat this wonderful work as a to do list that it defeats the purpose of the words themselves and only serves to confirm my need to check things off a list rather than LIVE. But I feel if I don't treat it as a to do list that I will somehow miss part of it and end up in a mess. And then I know that the mess is part of it. What kind of woman am I at the end of the mess is what is important. Not that we create messes just to clean them so we have something to do. But I want to be the kind of person who can "live with failure...and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "YES!"
Every day I put a new quote on the marker board on the fridge. A few days ago the quote of the day was, "Do that which you are most afraid." Yesterday was, "Advice is what you ask for when you know the answer but wish you didn't."
The universe is urging me to step toward something and didn't I say myself, "Go. Don't ask why. Ask what." I am not yet ready to reveal my thoughts or plans for fear (yes fear) of feeling obligated to do something I wasn't meant to do because I had a day filled with things that cannot merely be coincidence.
Especially when five minutes after I vocalized what I was thinking of doing I began to retract and make excuses as to why it is impossible. I said, "I have a life here." And my kindred spirit, like a good friend should, responded by asking me, "what is life?" It is such a good question.
And as my day began it ends with The Invitation. I wonder whether or not I am truly ready to accept it.
"I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul."
I feel like if I treat this wonderful work as a to do list that it defeats the purpose of the words themselves and only serves to confirm my need to check things off a list rather than LIVE. But I feel if I don't treat it as a to do list that I will somehow miss part of it and end up in a mess. And then I know that the mess is part of it. What kind of woman am I at the end of the mess is what is important. Not that we create messes just to clean them so we have something to do. But I want to be the kind of person who can "live with failure...and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "YES!"
Every day I put a new quote on the marker board on the fridge. A few days ago the quote of the day was, "Do that which you are most afraid." Yesterday was, "Advice is what you ask for when you know the answer but wish you didn't."
The universe is urging me to step toward something and didn't I say myself, "Go. Don't ask why. Ask what." I am not yet ready to reveal my thoughts or plans for fear (yes fear) of feeling obligated to do something I wasn't meant to do because I had a day filled with things that cannot merely be coincidence.
Especially when five minutes after I vocalized what I was thinking of doing I began to retract and make excuses as to why it is impossible. I said, "I have a life here." And my kindred spirit, like a good friend should, responded by asking me, "what is life?" It is such a good question.
And as my day began it ends with The Invitation. I wonder whether or not I am truly ready to accept it.
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love for your dreams for the adventure of being alive. It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon... I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain mine or your own without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful be realistic to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure yours and mine and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes." It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments. |
Monday, April 2, 2012
Since when did I become a ma'am?
Somewhere in your mid-twenties you are bound to have a fairly serious quarter life crisis. This happens when you start asking the questions that you have been either too drunk or too dumbfounded by adulthood to ask yourself. Mainly: What am I doing, what am I doing, what, what, what am I doing?
And all because people started calling me ma'am. From ma'am on it is really just a straight path to 30. I am not in the know and am pretty sure I sound like the mom on Modern Family when I exclaim that something I found on Facebook is "Totes Adorbs". Some part of me is so proud to have achieved the car, home, and maturity level to be called ma'am but mostly I am quasi-horrified that I now refer to 18 year old adults as "kids".
I have no real clue where the last 7 years have gone and know that the next 7 and the next will go by just as fast. I am trying to enjoy every stage of my life. Instead of being eager to get to the next stage I am going to try to enjoy becoming "ma'am" and be excited for the next chapter.
Life is an adventure and that doesn't even begin to cover it.
Until next time, stay happy.
Sara
And all because people started calling me ma'am. From ma'am on it is really just a straight path to 30. I am not in the know and am pretty sure I sound like the mom on Modern Family when I exclaim that something I found on Facebook is "Totes Adorbs". Some part of me is so proud to have achieved the car, home, and maturity level to be called ma'am but mostly I am quasi-horrified that I now refer to 18 year old adults as "kids".
I have no real clue where the last 7 years have gone and know that the next 7 and the next will go by just as fast. I am trying to enjoy every stage of my life. Instead of being eager to get to the next stage I am going to try to enjoy becoming "ma'am" and be excited for the next chapter.
Life is an adventure and that doesn't even begin to cover it.
Until next time, stay happy.
Sara
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
A fact or a ridiculous notion?
I cannot live without talk radio. When the zombie apocolypse inevitably takes place I am hoping that the first voice I hear over the AM waves is Michael Savage saying: "This is Michael Savage with the Savage Nation. Now we really are a Savage Nation; those socialist zombies, those flesh eating marxists, they think they can take whatever they want. Well we'll show them. We are Americans."
I don't know why I chose Michael Savage to be the one conservative radio host that would live through the zombie apocolypse but it seems somehow plausible.
I don't know why I chose Michael Savage to be the one conservative radio host that would live through the zombie apocolypse but it seems somehow plausible.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Hello Armpit Hole.
Every once in awhile I have a shirt that will rip in the armpit. Never anywhere else-just the armpit. The ghost ripper of shirt armpits is not my friend. In fact, he baffles me. Why ghost ripper of shirt armpits, WHY?
Things I have anxiety over but shouldn't.
The author of my new (second) favorite blog made a list of things she has anxiety over that she shouldn't. I started to feel that most every woman I know has the same problem and thought I would entertain the (masses) by detailing mine. So without incident here are items 1-3.
1. Teretts. And no disrespect to people who actually have it....But I am actually terrified that I will blurt out something horrible, distasteful and/or reprehensible at a moment not of my choosing. Like, for instance, I will say something weird and categorically untrue like, "oh yes, I know him. In the biblical sense." in front of the Mormons. Or asking a particularly decent looking client if he'd like me to take his shirt...err...coat! And then I will get fired. And have to hook to pay the bills. Hey, there ain't no rest for the wicked after all-thank you Elephant Cages or whatever your weird band name is for creating an environment where there is moral flexibility regarding employment choice.
2. Burning the house down. I am not sure when or why this fear developed but I have a borderline A&E style obsession with checking the stove burners, the hair straightener, and the dryer for signs of flame. Before I leave the house I sometimes check it 3-4 times. It's ridic.
3. A plane crashing into my house.
All of these scenarios are highly improbable. I think they make medication for this kind of thing.
Sara
1. Teretts. And no disrespect to people who actually have it....But I am actually terrified that I will blurt out something horrible, distasteful and/or reprehensible at a moment not of my choosing. Like, for instance, I will say something weird and categorically untrue like, "oh yes, I know him. In the biblical sense." in front of the Mormons. Or asking a particularly decent looking client if he'd like me to take his shirt...err...coat! And then I will get fired. And have to hook to pay the bills. Hey, there ain't no rest for the wicked after all-thank you Elephant Cages or whatever your weird band name is for creating an environment where there is moral flexibility regarding employment choice.
2. Burning the house down. I am not sure when or why this fear developed but I have a borderline A&E style obsession with checking the stove burners, the hair straightener, and the dryer for signs of flame. Before I leave the house I sometimes check it 3-4 times. It's ridic.
3. A plane crashing into my house.
All of these scenarios are highly improbable. I think they make medication for this kind of thing.
Sara
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Sometimes I just....fail.
In high school I was obsessed with having a nose job. I hated my nose. I thought it was huge. Whenever I would see a picture where my nose was prominent; I would cringe. Apparently, my parents didn't think that plastic surgery was an awesome idea and I would have to wait until adulthood to obtain said rhinoplasty. Now that I am 24 I have not only come to terms with my "Houser Schnauzer" but I actually kind of like it. It's quirky and quite frankly fits nicely on my enormous noggin.
I am so often (constantly really) obsessing over something.
Sometimes I just can't shut my brain up. It is like a perpetual strain of perpetually inconsequential thoughts. We are never really happy with ourselves. And not in a "never stop bettering yourself" way. It seems like it is more often than not in a, "how about I constantly beat myself up about my self destructive behaviors" way. I recently started following a blog where she talks about how whenever she starts to mentally berate herself she plays a game called "I bet Taylor Swift never..." Where she lists all the things she does that Taylor probably never does. Which is ridiculous but also very funny. Because I started to do it too. And really, if I am going to obsess over everything, I might as well have a go at laughing about it.
Today I obsessed over the following things:
How everything I say lately is categorically unfunny.
How many things I do not do because I am too busy playing "draw something".
How many people have inadvertently heard me say bad things about them because the phone hadn't quite hung up (I have had a quite horrific experience with that...)
Which reminds me of that story. So once upon a time in a far away land at the offices of a most beloved employer my most beloved supervisor (ish) (ish as in she was 'ish' my supervisor not 'ish' beloved) was leaving the company and wanted me to go to her new company with her. Now if you have never had an I am in love with/I hate my escrow officer relationship you might not understand why I wanted to leave a great company to follow my coworker to the unknown. Half of it was because she used to call and leave voicemails of just her howling and once left a voicemail greeting when she went on vacation that said "if you need immediate assistance please contact my partner Sara". Which, uh, I am sorry but I am not her "partner" and we laughed so hard at the messages that ensued that I almost peed myself.The other half was that she taught me everything I know and we got shit done when we were a team.
So yea, I was going to follow her. I had an interview at the other company and totally nailed the job. (No that is NOT what she said). I wanted to share the news and my lovely friend was still at the office and I called her to tell her the good news. Only she didn't answer her cell so I called the front desk to have them transfer me to her office line and the mainline voicemail kicked in. Meanwhile she called me on her cell phone and I somehow managed to conference in the front desk voicemail and it recorded the entire conversation.
The next day I got called to the Principal's (eer...president) office and he sat me down and proceeded to tell me that somehow the conversation had been recorded and it was brought to his attention that I would be leaving the company. It was all very awkward.
In the end I didn't leave. And I wasn't fired. Which has put me in a situation for which I am very grateful but the whole thing has made me very paranoid about the call status of any phone conversation where important and/or catty information is exchanged.
These are the kind of things that seem to always happen to me.
I bet Taylor Swift never got caught in a technology crossfire where her conversation containing Charlie Sheeny goodness was recorded for the world to hear.
I love that game...CROSSFIRE.
Okay, I really have to be done now.
Sara
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Weighty Wednesday: Episode 2
Week one:
I went to the gym everyday except Friday and Saturday: Check
I went to bed 30 minutes earlier: Check
Sit up straight: I am working on this. I have a note on my computer screen that says "SIT UP!" to remind me and I am finding that it is a helpful reminder for whenever I find myself slouching.
I am actually pretty proud of myself.
It is my plan to add new goals to the above original 3 each week. This weeks goals are:
-Lose 6 pounds.
-Drink 100 oz of water a day.
-Stop drinking soda *even diet*.
15 weeks until I am 25. Here is two the second week of preparation for the second half of my twenties (and beyond..Buzz Lightyear style :o))
Sara
I went to the gym everyday except Friday and Saturday: Check
I went to bed 30 minutes earlier: Check
Sit up straight: I am working on this. I have a note on my computer screen that says "SIT UP!" to remind me and I am finding that it is a helpful reminder for whenever I find myself slouching.
I am actually pretty proud of myself.
It is my plan to add new goals to the above original 3 each week. This weeks goals are:
-Lose 6 pounds.
-Drink 100 oz of water a day.
-Stop drinking soda *even diet*.
15 weeks until I am 25. Here is two the second week of preparation for the second half of my twenties (and beyond..Buzz Lightyear style :o))
Sara
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Unprincipled. And ridiculous.
I am a total drama queen. I am aware of this about myself. But I really do my best to never hurt someone with something I say. I love to write and I have seen the effect that words can have on the world. They are powerful. What you say and how you say it can make or break a friendship, a romance, or a strangers day.
So why oh why would someone lie? Why would someone be so jealous, unhappy, and vindictive that they would treat someone they love with hatred or disrespect either directly or indirectly? How jaded, selfish, and unkind must a person be to lie about the actions of one person in order to obtain a desired outcome?
Oh. But I suppose I shouldn't ask why. I should ask what. What should I do about people that are so mind boggling-ly, outrageously selfish that I want to beat my head against the wall just for a moment's respite? Nothing. Absolutely nothing except to acknowledge the fact that some people will never see that the world does not revolve around them. Will never see that it hurts people to be lied about. That it hurts people when they create unnecessary and unscrupulous drama. And if your entertainment comes from hurting someone else you are not being a good person.
Life should rarely be about doing what makes you happy. Life is about doing what is right even if it doesn't make you particularly "happy" at the time. Happiness is a mostly elusive emotion. Real happiness comes from having a joyful spirit no matter the circumstance.
Have a blessed day!
Sara
So why oh why would someone lie? Why would someone be so jealous, unhappy, and vindictive that they would treat someone they love with hatred or disrespect either directly or indirectly? How jaded, selfish, and unkind must a person be to lie about the actions of one person in order to obtain a desired outcome?
Oh. But I suppose I shouldn't ask why. I should ask what. What should I do about people that are so mind boggling-ly, outrageously selfish that I want to beat my head against the wall just for a moment's respite? Nothing. Absolutely nothing except to acknowledge the fact that some people will never see that the world does not revolve around them. Will never see that it hurts people to be lied about. That it hurts people when they create unnecessary and unscrupulous drama. And if your entertainment comes from hurting someone else you are not being a good person.
Life should rarely be about doing what makes you happy. Life is about doing what is right even if it doesn't make you particularly "happy" at the time. Happiness is a mostly elusive emotion. Real happiness comes from having a joyful spirit no matter the circumstance.
Have a blessed day!
Sara
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Weighty Wednesday-Episode 1
I am not sure if I am quite ready to be totally honest about my number on the scale. What I am ready to do (I hope, really) is to do something about it. I don't want it to define me anymore. And I won't. I have been wanting an accountability partner for weight loss and was not sure who to ask. But I thought wow. I have a blog with a modest audience. I am sure that they won't mind if I broadcast my weight woes to them.
Every week I am going to weigh in and tell you how much weight I have lost. And every week I am going to make a to-do list of things I want to do to improve my life, health, and sanity.
So this weeks goals are:
-Sit up straight
-Go to the gym every day
-Go to bed 30 minutes earlier
I have 16 weeks until I turn 25.
Ready. Set. Go.
Every week I am going to weigh in and tell you how much weight I have lost. And every week I am going to make a to-do list of things I want to do to improve my life, health, and sanity.
So this weeks goals are:
-Sit up straight
-Go to the gym every day
-Go to bed 30 minutes earlier
I have 16 weeks until I turn 25.
Ready. Set. Go.
I will wait.
I have dated a lot of men. Not in a whispered "I hear she has dated a lot of men" way. No, in a I have gone on several dates with men where nothing happened and if I am being honest some where they did. These relationships have not been fulfilling. They have left me mostly sad and always empty. I can't say that I regret them; regret seems a worthless emotion. I don't regret the relationships. I regret that I never felt good enough about myself to expect better; to wait.
To say "no I am guarding my heart for my husband and you're not him."
Does that sound trite to you? If so, the rest of this post may not be your cup of tea. Anyway, I saw this video one day that Jefferson Bethke made called "Sexual Healing".
There aren't words for how this affected my heart. Immediately. I said I would listen to that voice. I would not ask why, I would ask what. What to do. And you know what answer I got? Wait. God has always wanted me to wait. And really the definition of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting different results. So I am going to change how I do things and when God brings the man I am to be with into my life it will be different. Because we will have a friendship and a relationship with Jesus as the foundation.
That is how it was really meant to be after all.
Sara.
PS
I found this on post secret a week or so ago and thought it applied :o)
To say "no I am guarding my heart for my husband and you're not him."
Does that sound trite to you? If so, the rest of this post may not be your cup of tea. Anyway, I saw this video one day that Jefferson Bethke made called "Sexual Healing".
There aren't words for how this affected my heart. Immediately. I said I would listen to that voice. I would not ask why, I would ask what. What to do. And you know what answer I got? Wait. God has always wanted me to wait. And really the definition of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting different results. So I am going to change how I do things and when God brings the man I am to be with into my life it will be different. Because we will have a friendship and a relationship with Jesus as the foundation.
That is how it was really meant to be after all.
Sara.
PS
I found this on post secret a week or so ago and thought it applied :o)
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Looking for love (in all the wrong places?)
I have done a thorough study on the merits of the Craigslist junkyard and come up with a few simple rules to help those who are looking for love in all the wrong places. The same situation just different faces...what was I doing? Oh right. List. Okay, here goes:
1. If the post says, "I am married" in it; don't respond.
2. If the post says, "recently divorced" in it; don't respond.
3. If the post names any part of the female anatomy; don't respond.
4. If the post names any part of the male anatomy; don't respond.
5. If the post has a misspelled word in the title; don't respond.
6. If the post uses so many acronyms that your next tab is open to urbandictionary.com; don't respond.
7. If the post makes any reference to doing something to you; don't respond.
8. If the post says anything followed or preceded by the words, "I guess"; don't respond.
9. If the post is or contains a poem of any kind written by the posting author or any author for that matter; don't respond.
10. If the post contains words abbreviated by letters (ex. r for are); don't respond.
11. If the post depicts any unclothed part of the human body normally clothed with the exception of a particular beach or weird art class; don't respond.
Following these stipulations will basically eliminate any need for the use of the CL personal section. Now if you find a post that exceeds expectation RESPOND IMMEDIATELY. He is either lying or your soul mate!
Seriously though; I can scarcely believe the things I read. Someone posted the other day looking for "Risque Cleaning". What even IS that!? And he said he would compensate the responder for their efforts. I wonder if it was the police departments attempt at a sting of some kind because cleaning in lingerie sounds like the least sexy thing ever. I don't know about you but when I clean my house by the end I am sweaty, I have bleach stained my shirt, I have dishwater running down my front and I smell like a chemical lab. I suppose if it was light cleaning in lingerie that it might be okay but the poster did not specify the duration or intensity of the cleaning project he would be compensating for. I hope he pays in Trident Layers! Goody! But I digress.
I haven't done a CL "addition" in a while but thought that on Valentine's Day it would be appropriate to share where not to find love. :o)
Have a wonderful day,
Sara!
1. If the post says, "I am married" in it; don't respond.
2. If the post says, "recently divorced" in it; don't respond.
3. If the post names any part of the female anatomy; don't respond.
4. If the post names any part of the male anatomy; don't respond.
5. If the post has a misspelled word in the title; don't respond.
6. If the post uses so many acronyms that your next tab is open to urbandictionary.com; don't respond.
7. If the post makes any reference to doing something to you; don't respond.
8. If the post says anything followed or preceded by the words, "I guess"; don't respond.
9. If the post is or contains a poem of any kind written by the posting author or any author for that matter; don't respond.
10. If the post contains words abbreviated by letters (ex. r for are); don't respond.
11. If the post depicts any unclothed part of the human body normally clothed with the exception of a particular beach or weird art class; don't respond.
Following these stipulations will basically eliminate any need for the use of the CL personal section. Now if you find a post that exceeds expectation RESPOND IMMEDIATELY. He is either lying or your soul mate!
Seriously though; I can scarcely believe the things I read. Someone posted the other day looking for "Risque Cleaning". What even IS that!? And he said he would compensate the responder for their efforts. I wonder if it was the police departments attempt at a sting of some kind because cleaning in lingerie sounds like the least sexy thing ever. I don't know about you but when I clean my house by the end I am sweaty, I have bleach stained my shirt, I have dishwater running down my front and I smell like a chemical lab. I suppose if it was light cleaning in lingerie that it might be okay but the poster did not specify the duration or intensity of the cleaning project he would be compensating for. I hope he pays in Trident Layers! Goody! But I digress.
I haven't done a CL "addition" in a while but thought that on Valentine's Day it would be appropriate to share where not to find love. :o)
Have a wonderful day,
Sara!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
A quiet voice that speaks loudly.
I know I have been seriously slacking on my bloggage. I have been having a thought infestation problem and every time I try to write the words don't come out right. And I scrap it and my ADD moves me on to something else.
I have been feeling trepedatious at best and having an impossible time trying to figure out why. Why. What a question; one of the first we ask and the only one we will never answer. Why. So much power in those 3 letters. Why is infuriating and freeing. Why is binding and amazing.
And then in a quiet moment you hear it. Not in a Moses-ey, burning bush, 10 commandment way. Not in a thundery, Zeusy way. In a feeling deep in your heart. You know what it is you are meant to do. It's not an answer to why; in fact it begs the question itself. A feeling more than a voice, a warning, or a command. Like if your body just moves in the called direction you will never regret it.
Don't. Stay. Go. Act.
And if we were more honest when we say "I don't know." we would actually say, "I know but I am not ready to listen." If we were more honest we could say that before every big mistake we smothered conscience with a buffalo sized pillow and told ourselves that it would all be okay. Everything works out in the end. And it does usually. And changed we walk our path wondering who we would be if we hadn't made that exact decision that we were "told" not to.
But mistakes can be so sweet and if I hadn't made these ones I'd have made others. But I am scared. I am scared I will never find my Jerry because we have scarred ourselves into not being right for each other. Our choices have moved us so far apart that we can never find each other.
And then I hear that stirring in my heart; that if I would just do the things I know I should then everything would fall into place.
Instead of asking why I am going to start asking WHAT. "What" I can do something about; why just sends me into an angry hate spiral.
Ask what, not why. And then listen. That is my one month late resolution.
I have been feeling trepedatious at best and having an impossible time trying to figure out why. Why. What a question; one of the first we ask and the only one we will never answer. Why. So much power in those 3 letters. Why is infuriating and freeing. Why is binding and amazing.
And then in a quiet moment you hear it. Not in a Moses-ey, burning bush, 10 commandment way. Not in a thundery, Zeusy way. In a feeling deep in your heart. You know what it is you are meant to do. It's not an answer to why; in fact it begs the question itself. A feeling more than a voice, a warning, or a command. Like if your body just moves in the called direction you will never regret it.
Don't. Stay. Go. Act.
And if we were more honest when we say "I don't know." we would actually say, "I know but I am not ready to listen." If we were more honest we could say that before every big mistake we smothered conscience with a buffalo sized pillow and told ourselves that it would all be okay. Everything works out in the end. And it does usually. And changed we walk our path wondering who we would be if we hadn't made that exact decision that we were "told" not to.
But mistakes can be so sweet and if I hadn't made these ones I'd have made others. But I am scared. I am scared I will never find my Jerry because we have scarred ourselves into not being right for each other. Our choices have moved us so far apart that we can never find each other.
And then I hear that stirring in my heart; that if I would just do the things I know I should then everything would fall into place.
Instead of asking why I am going to start asking WHAT. "What" I can do something about; why just sends me into an angry hate spiral.
Ask what, not why. And then listen. That is my one month late resolution.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Something Real.
I burst into tears at the bank today.
I was calm when I handed the teller my 8 one dollar bills. Even though I felt stupid, awkward, and poor I attempted small talk. I wondered if she thought it was odd that I had braved below zero temperature and frigid wind to come into the bank to deposit $8 into my account. It didn't cross my mind that she has probably seen it all before; especially in this economy. She has heard every sob story, excuse and bad word in the book. But I didn't tell a story. I simply handed her George Washington's green, folded face and realized that I was handing her the last 8 dollars I would have for two weeks because once the pending payment cleared I would have 38 cents in my account. And that's when I felt my eyes prickle like a thousand pounds of stress was forcing water out of my tear ducts. Suddenly. Dramatically. Strangely. Like life just came running at me and I opened my arms to embrace it and instead it started plucking my eyebrows.
I questioned every dollar I had spent in the last 30 days, 60 days, year. And before I could make a scene I thanked the bewildered banker, she waved the receipt at me and asked if I wanted it. I said no, gathered my remaining dignity and walked out the door.
I called a friend and spoke to her. She's been there. Most all young people have. That point in your life where you're at the precipice of financial freedom and you realize that you're Jim Carey in the Truman Show and the mountain wasn't even real.
And at the end of the day I ask myself what is; what is real? What sustains when emotionally exhausted, financially stretched, and marooned in the arctic with Ke$ha stuck in my head feels like the only place I will ever be?
The fact is the only bill I did not pay this month is my garbage bill and it isn't as though they are going to repossess my trash. The fact is I have been blessed beyond deserving. The fact is that at the end of the day when I ask myself what's real I know that the answer is this. This savior. This love. This country. This family. These friendships. And I can't despair because I shouldn't because I have this.
And this is bigger than any bank account. Because this is what sustains me from the inside when things fall away. This is more important than any treasury note or piece of gold. This is love, my blessings. This is the antecedent to all things that are real.
I have HOPE and I wish you enough "this" that you have lots of that.
I was calm when I handed the teller my 8 one dollar bills. Even though I felt stupid, awkward, and poor I attempted small talk. I wondered if she thought it was odd that I had braved below zero temperature and frigid wind to come into the bank to deposit $8 into my account. It didn't cross my mind that she has probably seen it all before; especially in this economy. She has heard every sob story, excuse and bad word in the book. But I didn't tell a story. I simply handed her George Washington's green, folded face and realized that I was handing her the last 8 dollars I would have for two weeks because once the pending payment cleared I would have 38 cents in my account. And that's when I felt my eyes prickle like a thousand pounds of stress was forcing water out of my tear ducts. Suddenly. Dramatically. Strangely. Like life just came running at me and I opened my arms to embrace it and instead it started plucking my eyebrows.
I questioned every dollar I had spent in the last 30 days, 60 days, year. And before I could make a scene I thanked the bewildered banker, she waved the receipt at me and asked if I wanted it. I said no, gathered my remaining dignity and walked out the door.
I called a friend and spoke to her. She's been there. Most all young people have. That point in your life where you're at the precipice of financial freedom and you realize that you're Jim Carey in the Truman Show and the mountain wasn't even real.
And at the end of the day I ask myself what is; what is real? What sustains when emotionally exhausted, financially stretched, and marooned in the arctic with Ke$ha stuck in my head feels like the only place I will ever be?
The fact is the only bill I did not pay this month is my garbage bill and it isn't as though they are going to repossess my trash. The fact is I have been blessed beyond deserving. The fact is that at the end of the day when I ask myself what's real I know that the answer is this. This savior. This love. This country. This family. These friendships. And I can't despair because I shouldn't because I have this.
And this is bigger than any bank account. Because this is what sustains me from the inside when things fall away. This is more important than any treasury note or piece of gold. This is love, my blessings. This is the antecedent to all things that are real.
I have HOPE and I wish you enough "this" that you have lots of that.
Romans 5:3-4
3 Not only so, but we[a] also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Socks to Dog Hair in 30 Seconds or Less!
Welcome to the first edition of "Thought Thesaurus Thursday"! Everyone knows that a thesaurus is a prehistoric dinosaur that roamed the earth separating their belongings into piles of like-items and searching for greater purpose. Back then it was not the canine but the thesaurus that was a man's best friend. Today, long after the extinction of the thesaurus, we have created a system of grouping similar words together as they apply to the subject diction. For example the word walk has many synonyms such as gait, hike, jaunt and antonyms such as run, race, etc. So in a Thesaurus under the entry "walk" you would find a list of opposite and like words.
BUT if you look up thesaurus in the dictionary one of the definitions is (and I am paraphrasing here): a comprehensive list of a bunch of stuff as it relates to a certain subject.
So Thought Thesaurus Thursday is a comprehensive list of the things I think "one minute inside a woman's head" style. So here goes:
I woke up this morning and began to get ready for work. I put on my shoes and realized that my socks were just a bit too thick and so I went to change my socks when the following thought process ensued.
I hate wearing socks. I wish that I could just spend the day with my toes in the sand. In the sun. It's so hot in Hawaii today. Oh to be on Maui. Where are my black dress socks. Oh yes, there they are. Where was I? Oh in Hawaii. So hot. The beach sounds so nice right now. I only have one more pair of black socks clean. I need to do laundry. I need to clean my room. We were never meant to live in 15 below zero. This is just ridiculous. I have to start my car. Where is my car key? My gas bill was so high this month. What bills do I still need to pay. Well I have this much in my account minus the water bill, that was 25 dollars, and I paid the electric and the gas, my insurance comes out on the tenth so then I will have how much in my account? well 25+140+100 is 275ish and subtract that fro..... UGH why does Jessie leave the TV on when she leaves for the bus stop, and for the matter why is there dog hair on the floor!, Does he EVER stop shedding it's the middle of winter. Seriously, I really hate that. Okay I am late I really have to go.
And THAT is how you get from socks to dog hair in 30 seconds.
Sara
BUT if you look up thesaurus in the dictionary one of the definitions is (and I am paraphrasing here): a comprehensive list of a bunch of stuff as it relates to a certain subject.
So Thought Thesaurus Thursday is a comprehensive list of the things I think "one minute inside a woman's head" style. So here goes:
I woke up this morning and began to get ready for work. I put on my shoes and realized that my socks were just a bit too thick and so I went to change my socks when the following thought process ensued.
I hate wearing socks. I wish that I could just spend the day with my toes in the sand. In the sun. It's so hot in Hawaii today. Oh to be on Maui. Where are my black dress socks. Oh yes, there they are. Where was I? Oh in Hawaii. So hot. The beach sounds so nice right now. I only have one more pair of black socks clean. I need to do laundry. I need to clean my room. We were never meant to live in 15 below zero. This is just ridiculous. I have to start my car. Where is my car key? My gas bill was so high this month. What bills do I still need to pay. Well I have this much in my account minus the water bill, that was 25 dollars, and I paid the electric and the gas, my insurance comes out on the tenth so then I will have how much in my account? well 25+140+100 is 275ish and subtract that fro..... UGH why does Jessie leave the TV on when she leaves for the bus stop, and for the matter why is there dog hair on the floor!, Does he EVER stop shedding it's the middle of winter. Seriously, I really hate that. Okay I am late I really have to go.
And THAT is how you get from socks to dog hair in 30 seconds.
Sara
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Something New
I have an idea. Yes, scary!
Here is the backstory to my idea:
I am in love with the book "The 5 People You Meet in Heaven" it is such a poignant story and the last line of the book is:
Each affects the other, and the other affects the next, and the world is full of stories, but the stories are all one.
I believe this to be especially true. That people do have a real effect on each other whether they know it or not and it is so important to share our stories; sometimes for laughter-sometimes for inspiration or encouragement. And in the spirit of that I created a new blog that is open for posting to everyone. To tell your story, post your poem, or just vent about some encountered absurdity. You can post anonymously, identify yourself with a pen name, or don't hide who you are at all.
Here is what you do:
go to 2cns.blogspot.com
sign in on the top bar
EMAIL/USERNAME: 2centsandsensibility@gmail.com
PASSWORD: Cents123
Click on "NEW POST" and tell your story, share your advice, write whatever you want.
There is only ONE rule: BE CLASSY!
I hope this works because I am really excited about it. Even if you don't think you're much of a writer, please post; I want to know what you have to say.
Happy Posting!
Here is the backstory to my idea:
I am in love with the book "The 5 People You Meet in Heaven" it is such a poignant story and the last line of the book is:
Each affects the other, and the other affects the next, and the world is full of stories, but the stories are all one.
I believe this to be especially true. That people do have a real effect on each other whether they know it or not and it is so important to share our stories; sometimes for laughter-sometimes for inspiration or encouragement. And in the spirit of that I created a new blog that is open for posting to everyone. To tell your story, post your poem, or just vent about some encountered absurdity. You can post anonymously, identify yourself with a pen name, or don't hide who you are at all.
Here is what you do:
go to 2cns.blogspot.com
sign in on the top bar
EMAIL/USERNAME: 2centsandsensibility@gmail.com
PASSWORD: Cents123
Click on "NEW POST" and tell your story, share your advice, write whatever you want.
There is only ONE rule: BE CLASSY!
I hope this works because I am really excited about it. Even if you don't think you're much of a writer, please post; I want to know what you have to say.
Happy Posting!
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
I learned.
2011 got off to a rocky start. An overwhelming and devastating break up that changed life as I knew it was sure to discolor the next 12 months but while 2011 was outwardly mediocre at best it was inwardly a most important year, maybe the most important of my life.
A year that I spent questioning who I was and who I would be. Comparing that to who I want to be. Making the changes I needed to and convincing myself that I deserve to be human; that the mistakes I have made were (mostly) worth making. Sometimes the person you need to forgive the most is yourself. And when you're able to do that the days you were letting pass by in regret; watching as if bored suddenly spring up to meet you and the path that you thought you were walking alone is suddenly filled with people who have loved you even when you haven't reciprocated with enough time, credit, or love. A path that you thought was filled with despair is filled with hope and that is when I....
I learned that it is not foolish to trust people. I don't want to live in a state of jade. I want to always laugh, always sing made up songs, and feel with an untainted heart.
I learned that some people will take advantage; take as much rope as you give them and then hang you with it. These people do not usually know that they are doing; they are human too. So I have let them be and see that I never really wanted them in my life to start with.
I learned that I actually like myself. Sure I am not the paradigm of the proverbial woman and my antics sometimes flirt with obnoxious BUT I am clever and smart, ridiculous, steadfast, silly, caring, hard working, happy, and filled with hope.
I am hoping 2012 will be the year that I finally seal the cracks, accomplish my goals, and become the woman I want to be. Every day you choose who you want to be. I can see clearly who that is now and I can't wait. Bring it on 2012!
Happy New Year!
A year that I spent questioning who I was and who I would be. Comparing that to who I want to be. Making the changes I needed to and convincing myself that I deserve to be human; that the mistakes I have made were (mostly) worth making. Sometimes the person you need to forgive the most is yourself. And when you're able to do that the days you were letting pass by in regret; watching as if bored suddenly spring up to meet you and the path that you thought you were walking alone is suddenly filled with people who have loved you even when you haven't reciprocated with enough time, credit, or love. A path that you thought was filled with despair is filled with hope and that is when I....
....learned the value of good friendships. How important it is to support people and how much I need my best friends. I need to be their ear and their shoulder and I love that I can always trust them to be mine. Women I love like family; who I would do anything for.
I learned that it is not foolish to trust people. I don't want to live in a state of jade. I want to always laugh, always sing made up songs, and feel with an untainted heart.
I learned that some people will take advantage; take as much rope as you give them and then hang you with it. These people do not usually know that they are doing; they are human too. So I have let them be and see that I never really wanted them in my life to start with.
I learned that I actually like myself. Sure I am not the paradigm of the proverbial woman and my antics sometimes flirt with obnoxious BUT I am clever and smart, ridiculous, steadfast, silly, caring, hard working, happy, and filled with hope.
I am hoping 2012 will be the year that I finally seal the cracks, accomplish my goals, and become the woman I want to be. Every day you choose who you want to be. I can see clearly who that is now and I can't wait. Bring it on 2012!
Happy New Year!
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