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. 

Goodnight beautiful world,

Sara.

"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.

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!

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.

____________________________________________________

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

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....

I know. It is truly tragic. But this isn't a carnival; what is a girl to do. Really.

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.

~ Mary Oliver ~

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,.