2012 Resolutions... fresh and early

Matt lavished me with gifts this Christmas and I'm not going to gloat about it, butttttttt... let's just say I'm going to see the Black Keys in March. Among other gifts of clothes, scarves, 4 bottles of my favo champagne, and an owl necklace.

I reeeeeeeeally hope since he's gotten me an owl necklace the past two years that this becomes a tradition.

OK, I'm done.

 Let's reflect on the past year for a sec.

Here are my 2011 resolutions, which were both very tardy and very, very lofty.

I'm in a equally lofty mood going into this year but I'm also at the resolution-making early, maybe because 2011 wasn't that good or bad. It just happened. It's over? Okay. Bring on the next one.

2012 is going to be good, better, but this year it's time to make some resolutions I can actually get behind. Because really, the only one I saw through completely was the book a week goal. Go me! Reading is cool though, that one was pretty important.  I'm doing pretty well at paying my bills on time, too. Just saying.

So here's what I've come up with for the new year at hand and before you roll your eyes, I know there are a lot of items. I don't expect to accomplish all of them.  Okay. that was a lie. I fully believe I can handle this entire list. Go ahead and challenge me.

I'm going to explain everything as I go, so this may be a two parter. On a side note, aren't two-part gifts the best? I love them. All tied together because they're from the same person, but it's really two separate wrap jobs. Awesome. I love getting gifts, especially two parters.

Please bear in mind that these are in no particular order, otherwise 14 and 16 would be at the top, but they're pretty boring so I figure most people won't make it that far in the reading. But they're tomorrow anyway, so fahhhhgetttaaaabouuuutittttt.

Without further ado:

2012 WILL BE THE MOST BADASS YEAR EVER BECAUSE I'M GONNA:

1.  Drink more champagne.

Um, duh. Now this is some shit I can get on board with. I love bubbly. But like, LOVE it. Will not share a bottle with Matt love it. Now, champagne is typically brought out for celebration purposes. I want to celebrate a whole lot more in 2012. Not just the cool shit that happens, but the mundane- I made it through Tuesday! stuff too. I want my attitude to be one of more enthusiam for my life. For how great it's shaping up to be, for my ability to find a reason to celebrate more of it. Thus, champagne will be a staple for 2012.

2. Stalk people less on facebook.

Why is it that I can log onto facebook and skim the statuses and automatically click on any picture posted and find myself actually feeling an emotion toward it? Even if it's someone I haven't seen or talked to in three years. Even if it's a person I didn't like. ESPECIALLY if it someone I didn't like. Why do I have a five or so person rotation that I check up on, just to make sure I'm still skinnier/happier/better traveled/less pregnant/ less annoying than them? What the fuck is wrong with me? I mean, I know I'm bitchy at times, but why am I expending energy on people I have no relationship with? Facebook, I love you so hard, but we're spending less time together in 2012.

3. Wear more black.

It's slimming and it never goes out of style. No, I'm not gothic or anything. Wearing black makes me feel confident and powerful. Who couldn't do with more of those two things? I guess this is also incentive to get my dandruff situation under control. Ugh, relax, it's not that disgusting! It's just dry skin. I think.

4. Waste less food.

This is a big one. I am genuinely embarrassed by the amount of food that Matt and I waste. To an extent Matt is not as bad as I am, at least he doesn't walk into the grocery store with totally unrealistic healthy eating expectations for himself and walk out with three bags of veggies that end up slimey and thrown away. He goes for what he knows he will eat. However, the leftovers ratio of consumed to thrown away is totally skewed to the latter also. Mostly because I'll look down at the little foil wrapped containers and frown then try to find something else because I require a lot of variety. I need to buckle down and eat them! I'm going to force myself to actually eat the food I buy this year. Novel idea.

5. Wear less makeup. Yeah right. Find a way to shrink my pores until my skin looks like Olivia Palerno.

Okay okay. I know I'm not a richy rich celeb and so I don't have the resources at my disposal that they have when it comes to flawlessly smooth and creamy skin. Pus I smoked cigs for years which certainly didn't do me any favors. But I lust after skin with tiny little invisible pores so badly that I've started going to great financial lengths to get there. At this point I'd consider clubbing a baby seal and slathering its pure, virginal blubber all over myself  for perfect skin. Ok maybe not, but I will find the perfect skincare routine this year.

6. Take more leaps/ Be less of a pussy.

I've been standing in the exact same spot with my life for the past two years. I reeeeeeeeally need to bust loose with it and just start throwing myself out there. I know I have a strong support system that will help me up if I fall down and hurt myself or cheer me up if failure is the result. I need to stop being such a pussy about life. It's not waiting. the days keep coming in quick succession and if I'm not going to seize them, someone else will. In 2012, I'm going to go after whatever I dream up. Perhaps not fearlessly, but despite the near-crippling anxiety, I'm going to push through and go forth. Or at least make the effort.

7. Take a second before judging. AKA CHECK MYSELF.

Ok. I like to think I'm pretty open minded with people and pretty accepting. Note that I said 'Like to think." However, sometimes I snap my head back at myself and think 'Self, where did that nasty thought come from? You don't even know her/him!" It's embarrassing, internally scolding myself. So I'm going to try to slow my roll for a second before I jump to conclusions about that woman dressed like a lady of the night who just obviously cut me in line at Target. I don't know everything that's going on with her. I don't know everything that's going on with ANYONE. Before I assume they are just nasty people, I need to remind myself that every one has their own reasons for the things that they do, and most people aren't doing things just to be nasty. I need to chill, retract my mental claws/daggers/bitchy commentary. Heartwarming, I know.

8. Meditate.

I know this sounds kind of hippie-dipppie and you know what? I don't care. I LIKE hippies. I need to work on being more centered. Whatever that means. I've got a million things going on in my head at any given moment because I'm so goddamn intense, and most of the time it's worrying about other people and how to make everyone happy. I need to stop it. I need to take some time alone and just breathe. Take my own emotional temperature. Let myself work through things. and I need to be alone to do it. Surprise, surprise that this one makes the list again, under the guise of another name. But I found out this year that just because I take time for myself doesn't mean I use it wisely. So now that I am taking time for myself, I'm going to try to make it worthwhile.



PART 2 TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ha.

perfect comeback.

Seeing badass women tell people off in movies is one of my favorite things ever.

 There's just nothing like watching this edgy and cool yet morally superior nice-girl suffer for like an hour with various physical and emotional oppressions and then FINALLY see her take a stand slash dominate an entire head-on confrontation.




I get goosepumps sometimes. Partially because I LOVE perfect moments where just the right words come out and minimal physical stress is exhibited. Because I ALWAYS start shaking before I raise my voice to someone. Just the anticipation of it puts my body at high alert, that's how schizoid this schizoid really is. And the perfect words never come until like four hours after the fact, because what I actually said just sort of fell out of my mouth awkwardly in start-stopping increments, stumbled over, stuttery, disorganized, and weak; exactly how I felt.


But, no. These women, heros of mine to an extent, almost always get their cathartic moment, and just watching it materialize, even if I know deep down that it's fictional, is enough for me to get my kicks off of.




I get seriously into movies, too. Like, most people in my inner circle fall into two groups. They either find my incessant high-alert sitting posture and speaking to the characters in every single movie I watch quirky and endearing and just deal with it. Or, they straight up refuse to watch films with me altogether. Or, WILDCARD,  they're Manfriend who falls more into the second category, but the oodles and oodles of overflowing love for me in his heart allows him to keep watching movies with me while shushing minimally and rolling his eyes maximally, despite his instinct to steer me toward another activity.


A perf example of this I-am-female-hear-me-roar moment comes in a little movie I made Manfriend watch on Saturday night, and one of my all-time faves, Erin Brockovich. This woman dresses like a total hussy and doesn't know a lick about law but still manages to win an enormous class-action suit against a multi-billion dollar corporation. It's heartwarming, I LOVE taking down billion dollar enterprises, it's like this movie was made for me. AKA the real Erin Brockovich lived for my personal enjoyment, since this film is BASED ON ACTUAL EVENTS. Wow Universe, you really outdid yourself on this one.


Plus, the 90s? Yeah, I didn't hate them. And they definitely didn't hate Julia Roberts, who is climbing down into radioactive sewage ditches and shit and having shady/investigative conversations at random dive bars while still being a decent person and struggling to run the single-parent offense on THREE children. Booya, world.

Hi, boobs.

ANYWAYS.


Ms. Brockovich isn't quite as polished as some of the fancy schmancy lawyer folks they partner with to take down the evil multi-billion dollar corporation, so she doesn't get the respect she deserves... you know, since she did all the work and all. Plus, look at her boobs. OBVZ all the other ladies are totally jealous.

So, right, She's all pissed off and getting disrespected and she totally says something lawyer-jargony that makes her really important and this bitchy/snobby/stuck-up lawyer lady FINALLY realizes it and says:

"I think we may have got off on the wrong foot here..."

And then this little gem is delivered and it makes me feel like saying it could pretty much make me feel vindicated for any wrong that was ever done to me.




"That's all you've got, lady. Two wrong feet and fucking ugly shoes."




It is the perfect comeback. And I live in total hope and anticipation that someday, totally unscripted, I will have a true moment of clarity-under-fire, and utter something just as perfect. Until then, I'll be trying to crush haters with mind power alone.

XO Sara

staircases, yuck, and the pursuit of happiness.

**I apologize in advance for the gratuitous usage of the F word in this post. I'm a profane person. If this offends you, shut up.

So I've been reading up on happiness and shit a whole lot lately because I figure I should be proactive about it. You know, 'it' being the whole search for happiness, what does it all mean, we're sand in an hourglass mumbo jumbo.

I guess it's true that one simple thing, the concept of happy is everyone's ultimate goal. We strive because we see that something just over the horizon could make us even more content, even more right, even closer to the best possible selves we have dreamed up for ourselves in our wildest fantasies. There's always that pull toward growth, and often that pull to find happiness in the moment, too. But for a while, I lost sight of both.


Worry not, I've been slowly reclaiming myself from the yuck. The yuck being general bad vibes and discontent that make it damn near impossible to gain a true moment of happiness, let alone hold on to it.  An example of yuck would be spending more time on facebook than with actual living, breathing, humanoids. That's yuck, y'all. Sleeping because you simply don't feel like being awake? Also yuck.


Believe it or not, I've always thought/felt that I'm a pretty happy person. I laugh easily. I've got oodles of people to call and just chat, make plans, grab a quick bite with.  I pursue things that I like. I set goals.  I know myself, and I usually like myself. .


That was... until almost two years ago, July of 2009, when I got 'laid off' from my job after a year. Things got pretty dicey and rull yucky then, and if we're being honest, they've stayed awfully yucky ever since.
I've talked about it briefly before, but basically, this gig was my first 'adult' job. I got it right out of college,  I was making way more cash money than any of my friends, and I had freedom, NO EXPENSES, and the peace of mind that I was helping others. I loved my co-workers, bi-monthly pedicures, and steak dinners every night. I don't know, it felt cool, going from rationing my money between beer and PB&J to living expense-free with a salary among other real adults, it made me feel different, like finally all the work I'd ever done led me up to a payoff.


And then it was over, as fast as it had begun.


Don't get me wrong, I know things have been fucked the past two years for a mother lode of people. Times are tough,  I'm getting haircuts at Superclips these days, I know sacrifice. I know I'm not alone. I should be grateful that I'm not 15 years into a career and forced to apply for jobs for which I'm insanely overqualified. But a year of employment doesn't exactly make one 'qualified,' either, does it?

Luckily, I had a family that picked up my pieces, dusted me off, and listened to me ramble endlessly, in complete earnest,  about becoming a nomad for a year, really seeing America, carrying my harmonica everywhere, and jumping trains for transport. UM, pipe dream? But yeah, they didn't even laugh in my face, they at least waited until I left the room and laughed behind my back. Even my normally smotheringly critical mother patted my hand and looked wistfully into the distance instead of the usual skeptical grill-session involving a barrage of questioning and arched eyebrows. At first.


But still, that setback, knocked me back to start. I let it take all the wind from my sails and forget about momentum. Donzo.



The truth is, I never really loved my job that much, but I still felt this overwhelming loss.  I loved my co-workers, I loved the money, I loved feeling successful. I actually hated a lot of it, though. I smoked like a train. I was constantly moving around, so I felt lonely. I was young and female and often felt like I wasn't being taken seriously. I also didn't always feel like I was even good at my job.



I took the job because I wanted to have something lined up before I graduated and I was seduced by illusions of grandeur. I took it because I felt pressure from all directions that it was time to pick something, anything, and become a adult and this was the next step.

I've often felt that my whole life has revolved around a series of never-ending "next steps," a staircase that someone else created and planned for me. Without even consulting me. How RUDE.

Um. What? What the fuck? I just typed that. It's so true. It's what I'm trying to say. I feel like I've done everything all the voices around me told me I was supposed to do next. Am I really such a sheep that I didn't question any of it? It's not like I'm afraid to voice my opinion, the rest of my family knows and is very accustomed to this phenomenon every time a family dinner ends with me storming out after yet another astonishingly frustrating debate over political fundamentals erupts between my father and I over walleye and steamed asparagus.


So anyway, though I hated my job a lot of the time, I couldn't see never took the time to see how losing it could ever feel like a good thing, an escape, an opportunity. I had a next step to hit, goddamnit.
Instead, I've just been bitter and cynical and floating around angry ever since. Instead of making my own set of steps based on what will make me feel happy and content, I have effectively taken the stance "Fuck steps! I hate steps! I'll never lay eyes on another step as long as I live, and in the off chance that I do, I'll spit on the motherfucker!"


Anyway that kind of got off of the happiness topic, but I'm about to bring it fullllllllllll ciiiiiiiiiiiiiiicrle. Get amped.


I have been reading a TON of blogs lately where I feel like a lot of ladies have this underlying sense of, I don't know, discontent surrounding otherwise witty, charming, and yes, happy auras. Maybe we're all going through some sort of weird crisis, or just realizing that maybe we did everything we were told and expected to do, and not what made us happy. Or even perhaps more likely, we've been struggling to do what we think will make us happy, but as is often the case with the most rewarding labors of love, there is no clear path, or EVEN destination, just an idea, and flicker, a sideways half-frame that comes in a dream.

I feel happier. I feel like I've got things, now. I've got this blog, and manfriend, and running, and my friends, and a kickass house. But it's more than just things, it's momentum. It's building, I know it.

It's just so hard sometimes, you know? There can never be instructions to straight to Happinessland, because no one's views of it is exactly the same as anyone else. Sure, reading books on happiness trends and studies and research shows patterns and generalities, but it doesn't give step-by-step directions there. Maybe that's also the BEST part. We get to create our own, even if it's a rough road with lots of detours. Even if striving for happiness doesn't always bring the joy and release of paying off at every turn, for the first time I'm ready to build my own staircase instead of mourning the loss of one that was forced upon me.


Also, I've got a project, because it's time to make peace with steps, and maybe build a staircase of my own. (And also gain a firmer grasp of writing with metaphor, apparently.) One that doesn't involve office work, passive aggressive emailing, having a horrendous script when I answer the phone. I don't think it's selfish to have some deal-breakers.


Cheers to happiness!


XO Sara

a gasoline explosion almost ruined my weekend.

Welp, I'm a list-maker at heart and I'm in a time crunch due to a need for productivity at the office, so here's a quickly-whipped-out list of what's been going on with me the past few days.

-Are The Shins ever not right? No. They're always right. I'm constantly forgetting about them, and then Gone For Good came on Pandora today and I was all, "HOT DAMN, it's time I gave Oh, Inverted World  a few spins." Musically, I'm pretty dormant at that moment, but all of that will change soon enough. I'll come out with my Spring/Summer 2011 mix and have some new tunes to obsess over until it's time to mellow out for the fall. AND OMZ nothing fits the summer bill quite like fast-paced blue grass. Already getting sensory chills at the prospect of slapping a wine bag in the backseat on the way to a show or a serious jam-out on the way to the sacred river-side campground.

Cue goosebumps.

-Yesterday I played tennis with my mother and youngest brother. Just when I think I'm actually hitting the ball hard enough to warrant the grunts that seem to escape me as I make contact, we switch sides. Holy WIND! I quickly discovered that I had been at the wind's advantage and shit got difficult. It's basically common knowledge that my mom can smack the ball harder than I can. What is this nonsense about being in my physical prime? On the upside, I know what I have to look forward to; a mean, mean backhand can and will be mine when (and if) I reach my mid-to-late forties.

-I always root for the underdog in anything competitive unless I have a direct interest in the competition itself or if my Alma Mater, the Phillies, Flyers, or a team that I'm in some way affiliated with is part of it. The fact that I don't even care and won't even watch the National Championship Basketball NCAA game tonight means I'll obviously brag all about Butler winning tomorrow if they indeed pull it off. Don't be offended and/or read more into it than that. Also, if they don't win, it won't effect me at all, so everyone is a winner here. Ok, only me. I'm the only definite winner here.

-I was pumping gas yesterday because it was that time of the fuel level and because I try to fill up only once a week, at the beginning of the work-week, so I can more easily track my budget (I know, I'm growing up, brings tears to your eyes, doesn't it?) and you won't believe what happened. A GASOLINE EXPLOSION. Not with fire or anything, everyone involved is fine. However, I like to fill it all the way up, so I just lock the nozzle on GO and go back up to the front of my car and hang out up there until I here the thing kick off. Yesterday, that proved to be a critical error. THE STUPID PUMP AND IT'S STUPID PUMP FACE NEVER SHUT OFF. So after godonlyknows how long, I mosey on back to the rear of my car, because I glance back and notice I'm at sixty seven goddamn dollars, and GAS IS SPEWING EVERYWHERE. I didn't know what to do, and I panicked. So I just wiped the side of my car with a paper-towel and drove off, leaving a significant puddle. I probably wasted AT LEAST a dollar. ERRRRG.

-I have an interview to volunteer with an organization I have admired for a very long time. On Thursday. I can't wait! More on that Thursday.

It's going to be a great week!

XO Sara