spotted at my sister's wedding.

Not that anyone really cares to see pictures of my sister's wedding, but looking through the pictures let's me relive the madness, so get over it. It was an epic night. Also these pictures are not in order whatsoever, so you won't be living it in sequence. Get ready for a wild ride. Kind of.

Father daughter dance. Also note the cake being dismatled in the backgrgound. yummmmmmmm.

we're sisters, but honestly, she got the better nose. bitch.

ice sculptures and flowers. my wedding is destined to look poor and sad after this no matter what. that's why i plan to elope.

these buddies popped up everywhere throughout the weekend. this was as everyone exited the church after the ceremony. the one with the big guitar thingy was a FLIRT.



my friendsssss.



they're married and no one locked up their knees and passed out during the mass! that was a legitimate concern of mine.



ice bar. it was a popular spot during the reception.



pretty tables.

dance partyyyyyyyy.

Yes, it was a good night indeed.

my shady past... with dating. part 4.

So far I've written three posts about my inability to date properly in the past. Right here is the last post, if you want to get caught up.

Where was I?

Right. We're at the part where I actually let myself be single for a while.
I sat. I stewed. I raged. I drank heavily. I watched a lot of rom coms. I wrote rambling letters that I never sent. And then I laughed. I learned to enjoy doing whatever I wanted, like watching the entire Veronica Mars series straight through in three days.

Yeah, I got really into that.

I made promises to myself that resembled the sentiment of Scarlett O'Hara as she declares "I'll never be hungry again!"

It was a pretty good time to be me. Minus the losing my job and blowing all my money on expensive boots, moving to Chicago on a whim,  and weekly pedicures.

I also realized that I had settled into a pattern of dating. Aka, the Chameleon Act where I became a child that needed to be taken care of OR a cheerleader that had to prod! my! boyfriend! along! encouragingly! in! every! tiny! daily! task!, whichever the current love interest preferred. I decided that I didn't want a relationship where I had to buy a whole new wardrobe to feel like I fit nor a life where I had to reassure myself constantly that it wasn't that serious to avoid panicking about the fact that I was disappearing beside the guy I was seeing.

I decided I needed to stop being swallowed up.

After months of brooding and and bitching to my friends and a lot to talking to myself like a crazy person I decided I was ready to do the one thing I'd been avoiding for six or so years, actually dating my best friend.

Matt.

2004. we've always been badass, we just smoke less cigars now.

The only problem was that Matt had given up on me after five years of trying to date me to no avail, because I'm a cold and heartless bitch and I never gave him a chance. Probably because I convinced myself I'd lose him as a friend if we dated. That plan backfired because he finally went out and found himself a willing girlfriend and I lost him anyway. We became Christmas card and birthday card friends. It sucked.

Really, the kicker for me was when I realized I had essentially been dating Matt more than the guys I was actually dating- the entire time. I told him my secrets, called him when I was scared or sad or mad, talked in my weird voices without a hint of embarrassment and laughed with him about the stupid mundane things that happened in my day-to-day. I really only noticed how much I relied on our daily conversations when they suddenly stopped. While I had always continued our interactions despite my relationships, he actually focused on his and cut me out.
What a concept.

Anyway. I tried to just ignore it and let him be happy after everything I'd put him through. But I couldn't. So after a year and a half of stewing about it, I sent him what I can only call a manifesto of crazy. It was intense. Sort of a 'Sorry I just realized I've been in love with you the entire time, let's give this a shot now, please?'

And then I sent it off and got whiskey drunk.

And then he read it. And he told me it was too late and he was sorry.


BUT WE'RE TOGETHER SO THAT'S NOT HOW IT ENDS.

Ten days later Matt decided that we should probably see if we could date without killing each other.

And we haven't killed each other.... yet. It's been a year and a half. We live together. We have a giant 150 pound dog baby. We're pretty happy. It's the most healthy relationship I've ever been a part of. I get to dance around the house singing in insane falsetto at the top of my lungs wearing no makeup and my dorky-ass glasses and he gets to walk around in his underwear and play video games involving head sets.

We fight. It's definitely not easy. Compromise sucks ass sometimes. He hates people and I want to attend every party ever. I need to see my girlfriends twice a week and he needs to see his guy friends twice a year. He wants to have deep conversation right before we fall asleep and I'm like zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.  He won't eat anything green that grows from a seed and sometimes all I want is a salad and some hummus. I fight like a junkyard dog every time we disagree about the tiniest thing because I feel that I desperately need to hold onto my own way so that I don't lose my identity again.

We're different people, we see things differently- I think that's pretty normal. I'm just glad one or both of us isn't pretending to see things the same way just to keep the status quo. We'd never grow that way.

We both stay. Have stayed so far.  He gives me back rubs and I occasionally sit still long enough to watch a hockey game. I can't say I've never felt trapped and frustrated and just angry to the level of pissedoffedness where I'm over it and I'M DOING WHATEVER I FUCKING WANT TO OKAY.

But we love each other, so we try.

And since that seems to work pretty well, I going to keep on trying.




At my sister's wedding. 2011.


FIN.

my shady past...with dating. part 3.

If you've read the two posts from last week about my unfortunate past with dating, then you know about the pitiful lack of experience I had with boys by the time I turned 18, you've seen me do some annoying number crunching that went nowhere, and you've also maybe read about the fact that in college and beyond I rocked at finding men to date. I mean, they were the wrong men. But still, they were there, dating me.

At 18 I dove headfirst into the waters of the college dating feeding frenzy instead of considering what I was comfortable with, what I was looking for in a guy, and what I expected a good relationship to be.  I went ahead and just let whoever was giving me attention sort out all that stuff. * After all, they probably knew more about it than I did. Right?

Settling into a pattern like that is easy-peasy and also totally unhealthy because it's a hard cycle to break and sometimes it hits you one day that you're 24 years old, a shitty partner, and you have no idea what you actually want.

Thankfully, I did 'wake up' so to speak. And once I was up, there were reminders of my passive journey through Relationshipland everywhere.

For instance, one morning I had just set off on an all-day drive. I popped in the first cd I found whilst digging around in the center console without looking and Social Distortion started rocking through the speakers. I could have slid on my sunglasses and sung along but instead I fixated for hours on the fact that I had no idea if I actually liked this band or if I just knew all of the words because a former flame loved this band and I thought I could make him love me by liking the music he liked.

What the hell? I've always been a strong, self-confident, outspoken female in nearly every other facet of my life, but when it came to men I was reduced to some malleable substance vaguely resembling play dough- That is, so long as they didn't try to label what we had as a 'serious relationship.'

Granted, I do think we pick up a lot of things from the people we date. After all, we (usually) like them, we spend a lot of time with them, and we ideally learn a lot about them when we're together. I still run my toothbrush under the sink before and after I put toothpaste on it due to a former beaux. It's just a habit I picked up that I ended up liking. I don't often think of him, but he's the source of said habit and oh well, I like a wet toothbrush.

But I think a large part of my problem was that I spent a lot of energy trying to become the perfect girl for every guy I was dating rather than considering if they had any potential to be my perfect guy. Or even a guy I was compatible with.

I know it seems strange that I say I never intentionally entered into a relationship or really wanted one- and then I go on to talk about how much I lost myself in the guys I was seeing. It doesn't really make all that much sense to me either, and it didn't happen overnight, but rather gradually, which is probably why I didn't notice it at the time. Basically, I think I lied to myself.

Because of the guy I am dating, I've been full-on country western, punk rock, a total hipster, and extremely preppy. You should see my closet, it STILL looks like an overflowing costume trunk. Slowly, like a chameleon, I did what I thought I had do to, and then time and again I was surprised when I found myself totally unhappy, unfulfilled, and trapped in a situation that I couldn't stay in. The lesson? Forcing myself to fit better with whoever I was dating didn't help me fit any better in my own skin. It didn't make our relationship any more likely to succeed or make me want to consider it in a serious light.

It was exhausting.

And I did it to myself.

By the time I realized what I'd been doing, I'd been single for a year. After a particularly volatile end, I built a wall and reinforced it with rage. And realizing I'd been losing myself to the guys I was dating only increased my resolve. But then, something good happened. I started healing. I started  to learn about myself again, to take the time to consider why I liked or didn't like something. I started to actually like myself again.

Which takes us quite neatly to tomorrow's post about my current relationship, and how it started.

See you then.

Sara

*(Except sex. I hung onto that V-card like a sacred flower waaay longer than most of the girls I knew.)

my shady past... with dating. part 3.

If you've read the two posts from last week about my tawdry affair with dating, then you know about the pitiful lack of experience I had with boys by the time I turned 18, you've seen me do some annoying number crunching that went nowhere, and you've also maybe read about the fact that in college and beyond I rocked at finding men to date. I mean, they were the wrong men. But still, they were there, dating me.

At 18 I dove headfirst into the waters of the college dating feeding frenzy instead of considering what I was comfortable with, what I was looking for in a guy, and what I expected a relationship to be.  I went ahead and just let whoever was giving me attention sort out all that stuff. *

 

*(Except sex. I hung onto that V-card like a sacred flower.)

 

Getting into a pattern like that is easy peasy and also totally unhealthy because it's a hard cycle to break and sometimes it hits you one day that you're 24 years old, a shitty partner, and you have no idea what you actually want.

 

Thankfully, I did 'wake up' so to speak. And once I was up, there were reminders of my passive journey through Relationshipland everywhere.

 

For instance, one day I had just set off on an all-day drive. I popped in the first cd I found whilst digging around in the center console without looking and Social Distortion started rocking through the speakers. I could have slid on my sunglasses and sung along but instead I fixated on the fact that I had no idea if I actually liked this band or if I just knew all of the words because a former flame loved this band and I thought I could make him love me by liking the music he liked.

 

What the hell? I've always been a strong, self-confident, outspoken female in nearly every other facet of my life, but when it came to men I was reduced to some malleable substance vaguely resembling play dough.

 

Granted, I do think we pick up a lot of things from the people we date. After all, we like them, we spend a lot of time with them, and we ideally learn a lot about them when we're together. For instance, I still run my toothbrush under the sink before and after I put toothpaste on it due to a former beaux. It's just a habit I picked up that I ended up liking. I don't often think of them, but he's the identifying source of said habit.

 

But I think a large part of my problem was that I spent a lot of energy trying to become the perfect girls for every guy I was dating than considering if they had a potential to be my perfect guy. Or even a guy I was compatible with.

 

I know it seems strange that I say I never intentionally entered into a relationship or really wanted one- and then I go on to talk about how much I lost myself in the guys I was seeing. It doesn't really make all that much sense to me either, and it didn't happen overnight, but gradually, which I probably why I didn't notice it at the time. Because of the guy I was dating, I've been full-on country, punk rock, a total hipster, and extremely preppy. You should see my closet, it STILL looks like an overflowing costume trunk.

 

 

 

 

going places.

Time for a break from my tawdry dating past because it's not really all that exciting and it makes me feel like a cold hearted bitch. Also thinking about it makes me realize how long I just kind of swept myself through life on the tails of everyone else's expectations. I'll probably come back to it at some point.

Instead I present you with some news.

In two weeks, I'M GOING TO MONTANA. To look at two schools and meet with some current students and professors so I can see if I think I'll be a good fit... also my best friend may live out there sooooo, win-win. I just booked my flight on Wednesday. Actually I just decided on Wednesday that I should check out these schools before I spent another 10 hours a piece on their applications.

So, thanks to the fact that my father travels four days a week, I benefit with a free flight ala frequent flyer miles.

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL.

Next weekend I'm going to check out two schools in Michigan, my favorite state in the nation despite the fact that my college football allegiance will of course always remain deeply faithful to The Ohio State University. I'm allowed to love both. My heart is big enough. As I've mentioned before, I spent every summer in Northern Michigan growing up, so getting my next degree in Michgan would mean probably praciticing in Michigan and since I want to live there, it's kind of logical.

I'll actually be in Michigan anyway since my grandparents live in Ann Arbor and so my family will flock there like we're migrating toward a food source. Which, we kind of are.

All I can think about now is mashed potatos.

In conclusion, I'm finally attempting to take a step foward in my life and better my future.

Please hold your applause.

Happy weekending!

Sara

my shady past... with dating. part 3.

So at this point we've talked about the pitiful lack of experience I had with boys by the time I turned 18 and done some annoying number crunching that went nowhere and you've also maybe read about the fact that in college and beyond I rocked at finding men to date. I mean, they were the wrong men. But still, they were there, dating me.

And now it's time for some amatuer theories about what the fuck I think was wrong with me over the seven year tour de man from then to now.

Let me start off by stating again that I'm an asshole. Also, another fun fact that I'll bring up again is that in the time I spent dating, I never once intentionally entered into a relationship. Until Matt. No six month anniversaries. No timeline of events. No promises and plans for the most part.

I was a casual dater that several times got roped into a lot more than I bargained for.

I truly, truly do not know why I was never all that interested in anything serious.  Twice I've woken up one morning and realized that I was actually right in the midst of something serious. It's nothing until it's... more than just something.  In fact, my most serious 'relationship' prior to now started as a summer fling, and I probably should have followed my instinct and just left that one there.

I'm the person who walks into a buffet and stands there, transfixed and unable to move for all the possibility. I think of all the food I could eat, start piling it onto as many plates as I can carry at once, and after three bites I feel completely stuffed by just the prospect of it all. Easily overwhelmed. Freakish. Kind of both.

Instead of listening to my inner voice at 18 and taking it easy on the man meat, I forced myself to immediately start wading into the feeding frenzy of the college dating pool. At first it was fun. Since I'd never really strayed from the pack of runners I was a part of in high school, I was never really approached by anyone not already in our group. At college, I wasn't just another skinny, slightly dorky runner girl in a tight group of other skinny, slightly dorky runner girls just like me. I was actually much less than that, I was one in a sea of thousands. But I could be whoever I wanted to be. I could do whatever I wanted to do.

And I wanted to party.


Which led me to make reckless decisions, ignore responsibilties, and get some shitty grades my first year in college.

However, I knew better than to wander the streets alone, drunk. So I learned to always con some poor, kind, sucker into escorting me safely home since my partner in partying ALWAYS disappeared from parties without saying goodbye. Apparently I'm rather charming when I'm a little loosey-goosey, because instead of being totally disgusted and dismayed by my selfish actions and GALL to not invite them up to my warm and toasty bunk bed, these self-appointed escorts sought me out in sober settings... You know to eat together at the dining hall the next day, attend their brother's high school football games, and take walks with ice cream... also, to attend more parties with them.

And it was awesome.

Because you see. All I wanted was a safe walk home, an invite to the next party, and someone to hand me a beer when I got there. And I got ALL of those things.

Which is the start of me NOT considering what the other half of the equation would look like to reach a balance with an equal sign in the middle.

Surprisingly, these stand up suckers walking me home, the ones that kept seeking me out, they wanted something serious.

A girlfriend.

Are you fucking kidding me? Freshman and Sophomores in college that actually WANTED A GIRLFRIEND.

I was appalled. This is not what I expected.

I guess I found out there were two types of guys around me. The ones I successfully avoided because they wanted to get in my pants and then never see me again. Or the other guys, these wanted a nice girlfriend to show off to mom and dad and parents weekend.

Again, What the hell?

my shady past... with dating. part 2. time machine addition.

Yesterday I talked a little about my shady history with the wide world of dating.

And now I'm going to talk about it a little more.

I'm sure you're overwhelmed with joy.

Now where did we leave off? Somewhere around me bragging like an asshole over how easy it was for me to find men to date. Right.

The only problem while I was dating all these wonderful eligible men that wanted to take me home to Mom and carve our initials into the old Oak in the back yard of their childhood home?

I was totally unprepared to be dating at all.

Let's travel back in time and crunch some numbers and facts for a second.

I graduated high school at 17. During those 4 years in high school, I spent 80% of my time worrying about running track and cross country and hanging out with my team and 20% worrying about school. That's 0% time spent thinking about boys.

Okay, maybe only 78% on things running related and 2% on boys aka Freddie Prinze Jr.

Still.

I had exactly 2 'boyfriends' in high school. They were both my senior year and lasted 4 and 3.5 months, respectively.

Between the 2, I estimate 3 make out sessions, 4 real dates, 1 prom, 1 break up due to me being tired of always having to drive to his house to hang out and then having to pay and 1 break up because I wasn't willing to have sex.

That's essentially 0% preparedness to attend a frat party.

OH my GOD do I hate math.

And then I turned 18 and was magically a mature adult (HA!) and moved to another state and attended the largest university in the nation (that year) and proceeded to start dating the first guy that walked me home from the first kegger I attended, the second night I was there.

We dated for three months until I met The First Serious One, who we'll come back to, eventually.

So here's the deal. That's when the cycle started.

I like to call this little cycle The Child or the Cheerleader routine.

Because that's what I became every. single. time. Since I didn't have a clear understanding or knowledge of what I wanted in a relationship, I just dated any 'good guy' I found, and then I forced myself to fit into a box that met their vision of how our relationship should go. Hence, becoming someone they felt they had to take care of, the child. Or someone that was constantly telling them how great they were and encouraging them to reach for their dreams, hence the cheerleader.

I can be both of those things, when the time is right, but those qualities do no define me as a person. Except, that they did. For a very, very  long time.

Which we'll talk a big more about tomorrow.

XO Sara

my shady past... with dating. part 1.

Let's talking about dating for a minute... or like maybe four posts.

Now, I've been out of the scene for a hot second at this point, but I remember it well. For me, dating largely consisted of flirting with friends of friends and playing hard to get with men I'd flirted with in bars until one of them snared me into a casual hangout that led to emotions without me realizing it and the rest was history an ensuing battle of me trying to valiantly escape without anyone getting hurt. I'd never intentionally entered into a serious romantic relationship.

Never. Intentionally.

Yeah, that's a true story. Ask my first college boyfriend what I said when he finally got up the nerve to ask me to be his girlfriend after we'd seen practically nothing but each other for three months

It was something along the lines of, "Ummmm. Well. I mean, I'm a freshman. I don't really want a boyfriend, you know, a serious one. But, I guess we could give it a try. Let's just keep is casual, okay?"

Fast forward to our HORRENDOUS breakup a year and a half later. He's ugly crying on a park bench and I'm standing around like an asshole waiting for it to be over so I can go cry to my girlfriend over ice cream about him crying over me.

Rinse, repeat for six years.

One minute I'm perfectly happy running around like a crazy person on my own. But never really on my own, you know? Just surrounded by the best and happiest people I can find.  I'm so busy and full of life and movement and the next thing I know, BOOM, I'm either dating a total asshole with bigger commitment issues than myself, or I'm shaking my knee like I've been holding in four big gulps for an eight hour bumpy ride with my father behind the wheel. Antsy. Shifty-eyed. Trapped with absolutely no idea how I got here.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not heartless or especially cold or incapable of emotion in any way. I cry during movie previews for christs sake. I ended up caring deeply about everyone I dated over the years, whether it was for three months or twenty. I formed friendships with their families, who they ALWAYS wanted me to meet. I grew to like many of their friends, and I liked almost all of them as people. But it took me a REALLY long time to realize that kind of compatibility doesn't necessarily mean ROMANTIC LOVE in capital letters, as least not the kind for which I was looking.

You see, my problem was never that guys were hard to find. In fact, my problem wasn't figuring out places to meet decent men, it wasn't weeding out men, it wasn't getting men interested in me. It wasn't even getting men interested in me for my personality instead of my looks. Although honestly, I'm kind of an asshole and don't really pay much mind to my appearance, so that part kind of escapes my logic.

(Please note that I'm not implying that men were flocking to me like Salmon during the spawn, nor am I a hussy by any means. I just got really good at figuring out how to screen out shady men and make the rest really like me.)

My problem wasn't in logistics or the pool.

And no issue of Cosmo or Glamour or even Carrie Bradshaw herself was telling me what the eff was going wrong here, despite my desperate perusal or any advice they had to offer.

It was me.

And tomorrow, I'll tell you why.....

Xo Sare

my kid sister got married: a recap

My sister's wedding day was beautiful and went off without a hitch, whew. I am still recovering. It's been an intense twelve weeks since she informed me she was engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor.

Honestly, I've never seen a less fussy, more laid back and calm bride the day of her wedding. 10 minutes before we're due to walk down the aisle I'm freaking out over my mascara and trying to get my dress zipped and my sister STILL doesn't have her wedding dress on and is helping the flower girl put on her tights. Cool as a cucumber.

It was kind of surreal. I mean, I grew up with her, and I had no idea that was coming.

So, lets recap a couple of highlights from the day. Pictures to come when some appear on the fbook since I was running around like a crazy person the entire day and didn't snap a single one. Well..... that's not ENTIRELY true, but we'll get to that part.

1. I am SO relieved that I didn't have to pretend like I was worried about eating/looking like I had a food baby. My sister and I stopped at Jimmy Johns on the way to the church and got sandwiches and HOUSED them. The other bridesmaids came together and showed up with Panda Express. I am just so grateful that I was able to unabashedly nurture myself aka stuff my face prior to the big event, because I probably would have passed out up there if I hadn't been able to eat beforehand.

2. My brother Eric plays college football and despite being diagnosed with Diabetes at the start of the season, made the travel team this weekend for the school's rivalry game, which I guess is a pretty big deal. He wasn't supposed to make the ceremony and was going to just meet us all at the reception after the game..... but he surprised everyone (except me, because he needed the church address) by skipping the game and coming to the wedding. It was a big deal. My parents were SO surprised, as was my sister. Not a dry eye after he showed up. It was so emotional to see BOTH of my brothers escort my mom down the aisle.

3. Since my sister and her new husband Angelo happen to be knocked up, (boom, surprise!) they were lucky to be married in the Catholic church on such short notice. Luckily, my dad's got a guy for everything and knew a Deacon that put them into touch with a priest. In turn, they decided to go ahead and show some respect by having a full mass. FULL MASS. I know. But now I feel off the hook because at least one of my mother's children did this. Yay, sister.

4. During the vows Angelo got so choked up that I started getting really emotional myself. It was really touching and also gave me any affirmation I still needed that my sister is in good hands. True love, vomit, so adorable.

5. The music for this weekend was fucking legit. Since Angelo's father is from Mexico, a lot of elements from traditional Mexican culture were used, and music was one of them. We're talking Mariachi bands EVERYWHERE. At the rehearsal dinner, at the church as everyone was leaving the ceremony, at the reception as the wedding party came in. It was beyond awesome. Also, Beth and Angelo had a funk band come and play live music for everyone to dance to at the reception. So much live music, so much goodness.

6. I've probably mentioned this before, but Angelo is an ice sculptor. He and his father have a very successful business, and literally no competition in Indianapolis, so they're basically balling out of control. So, we're talking ice sculpture vases on EVERY SINGLE TABLE..... anddddddddd A BAR MADE OUT OF ICE.

Yeah.

7. My mother deserves a major award for her organization level. I mean, this wedding for 300+ guests was planned in twelve short weeks. And it was probably the greatest wedding that ever was, not that I'm biased or anything. There was a very DIY element to everything because it was in such a short time that we all pitched in A LOT. Including helping to create many of the forty+ flower arrangements and centerpieces. I'll probably never see that many fresh flowers in one place again.

8. Everything after ten pm is kind of a blur, but I do remember very vividly the limo coming back to pick up the bride and groom and take them to their hotel around 10:15. I hugged them goodbye and ran back inside and ran right into Matt as he was coming up to me holding out a ring and saying "One of the little Mexican kids just gave me this! Weird, huh?" To which instantly recognized the ring, grabbed it out of his hand and ran back outside and JUST as they were getting into the limo. I yelled, "Angelo, are you still wearing your ring?!" That's right, his wedding ring had fallen off his hand and was almost lost forever. Crisis averted. The universe works in mysterious ways.

9. Okay, Okay, I know I'm 25 years old and it's not cool to talk about hangovers anymore, but seriously, I'm still hungover. When I woke up yesterday I could barely move my limbs. It was that bad. Damn you open bar and post-reception hotel party!

10. I just saw, like, every member of my family from both sides. It was like freebasing family trying to have a moment with each of them in the few short hours we were all together. Still coming down from it. God, I love weddings.

11. Wedding cake. Six Tiers. OH. MY. GOODNESS.

feeling sassy.

I'm ready to get through this week and start celebrating my little sister's lifetime commitment!

This time on Thursday I'll be getting ready to dip my toes into bubbling hot water for a much needed pedi. Wedding weekend is almost in session!

crash.

Matt is going to be fine.

He hit a deer on the way to work in the middle-of-nowhere in pitch dark at sixty miles an hour last Thursday. We were on the phone. It scared the piss out of me. In fact, I don't really remember the rest of my drive to work after it happened.

We were on the phone with each other when it happened because we talk on the phone on our way to work every morning.  Apparently we can't get enough of each other what with living together and spending the majority of our free time together. Isn't love annoying?

Anyway. All of the sudden there's a loud commotion and then complete silence. I have no idea what's going on.

Then comes the voice.

The I'm-not-okay-this-is-really-scary-oh-shit voice.

Very shaky.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. I just crashed babe. Oh my god. I just got hit with the airbag. I've never been hit by an airbag before. holy shit I just crashed at 60 miles an hour."

So naturally I hit him with a million questions because I'm in panic mode.

It was terrifying. He hit a deer head-on at a good clip and managed to get his truck to the side of the road. They had to give him a new work truck because his is basically totalled.

Matt was shaken, but he walked away from the accident.

The deer was killed on impact, and luckily, didn't have to suffer.

Thankfully, no one else was involved in the accident and the sheriff and Matt's boss arrived promptly to the scene.

But I'll probably never forget the sound of his voice that morning.

an exersize in happiness

This morning on his way to work Matt got into a car crash at 60 mph while we were on the phone and it was fucking terrifying and I'm still shaken up about it and I wasn't even in the car.

I tried to write about it earlier, but I can't yet so maybe tomorrow.

He's going to be fine.

So I'm going to write about something else.

On the whole, I'm not particularly good at measuring my own happiness. I've gotten better at looking around and nodding acknowledgment to those moments when I'm drunk with joy in the last year or so, with making sure I'm present and aware at the happiness I'm feeling, but in general I feel pretty ho-hum about life.

It hasn't always been this way and I don't know how I got here.

Sometimes I wonder what is really important to me.

It seems like there are so many unknowns right now as I claw and climb my way to steadier footing. So I decided to jot down in about two minutes some things that are important to me, it seems like whatever comes out quick may be things I need to acknowledge and reach for foremost. 

So here we go, here is what I know:

Let's take an ultimate goal, we'll call it happiness. What are the things that will be able to get me there?

 

I know that I love the outdoors.

I know that I need time alone.

I know that I need to cut loose every once in the while.

I know I hate to cook.

I know that I don't want a ton of money, but more a comfortable life among a beautiful landscape.

I know I don't want to be surrounded with commercialism or material, plastic people.

I know I want to be in love.

I need adventures and cannot stand tedium and routine.

I am a good listener

I love to read

I love to do hands-on activities

I love music

I know I need to be closer to Nan. She's having a rough time.

I like to be autonomous

I know I don't like rules

I know I want to live on the water

I know I need to live an active and healthy lifestyle that doesn't include watching TV all day or even every day and I can't make that an option- sitting around only depressed and un-motivates me

I know I get sucked into laziness when I'm unhappy

I know I need intelligent intellectual conversations

I know I love to learn

I know I stand up for myself and for that's true and right in my own mind, even when odds are against me

I know I hate injustice

I know I like to write

I know it takes a lot for me to get close to people

I know I need exploration and adventure

I know I get overwhelmed in crowds unless I'm in the right mindset

I know I can be incredibly charming, social, and charismatic when I'm in the right mental state

I know I'll always want to go to the party

I know I have a tendency to just do things. Sometimes without thinking them logically through.

 

 

So there's what the top layer of my mind knows.

 

 

I could really stand to organize things up there.

 

Sara

 

 

 

heavy.

Days like today feel heavy.

 

The fact that it's cloudless and the sun is playing on the colors of the leaves like stained glass as the wind sighs through them isn't helping. The fact that it's November and 65 degrees and better than ideal isn't helping.

 

It's nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with me. But the fact that I feel this heavy on a perfect day somehow makes it all seem so much worse.

 

It's just that sometimes I look around and I'm not sure how I got to where I am standing. It's just so far from where I want to be, in almost every facet of my life.

 

What the fuck am I doing?

 

Sometimes it feels like if I could just get mad enough or sad enough or joyful enough or one extreme or that other I could make some headway. I know that's not how it works. I know a lot of things about 'that's not how it works." I guess I'm lacking on 'the way it works' front.

 

You know what else? Nothing about my life is even wrong. Everything is fine. I'm fine. We're all fine. I've got absolutely no reason to feel so gloomy.

 

Which is why it feels heavier today. Because if it were raining or cold or cloudy, at least I would have something to feebly tether the blame for feeling this miserable.