Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Patience.

I don't know who said this.  I don't care who said this.

I needed it, though.



Merry Christmas :)

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Nightowl without a purpose.

I've let myself fall (back) into the terrible habit of not sleeping.  Like, college-style.  The hey-it's-1-am-and-there's-nothing-I-need-to-be-doing-but-it's-not-2-yet-so-I'm-going-to-stay-up-because-I-can style.  The problem is, unlike college-style, I still have to get up for work at the same time every day.  I'd blame it on my friends that I stay out late with some nights, but even then I come home and bum around for an hour or two before I decide it's time to be unconscious.  It has nothing to do with wanting to stay awake or being productive.  I just can't make myself go to bed.  I was reeeeally good about sleeping over the summer, but in the recent months have lost all sense of regularity with my schedule.  Goober doesn't help by chomping on his cage in the middle of the night wanting a snack, either!

As a side note, it bothers me a little when my work supervisor tells me I look sleepy... every day.  I may be tired, but didn't I just spend 20 minutes putting my face on so I wouldn't look that way?  Fail.

And since I have this problem to fight against, if I'm not careful this could become a vicious cycle. 

Moral of the story:  someone needs to yell at me to go to bed at a reasonable time.  And then show me how to do my makeup so I don't look like a zombie.

Monday, November 28, 2011

No Money November

This has been an expensive month for me.  I've spent my budget... twice over.   What in the world happened?

-Four new tires... when the tire guy openly laughs at my tires, it's time for new ones.
-One round-trip plane ticket home for Christmas
-Car insurance. 
-Rent for my new apartment... while still paying for my old one
-Necessary items for new apartment... Walmart owns my soul.
-Goober food... he is a bottomless PIT of a guinea pig!
-People food
-A year's supply of contacts
-Gas to drive to work/temple/airport

Holy cow.  On that note, I am THANKFUL for:

-Hopefully once again having traction on the road and not being forced to ask others to help push my car out of an inch of snow.
-Being able to travel across the country in a mere four hours to see my family.  Doesn't that blow your mind??
-My car in general.  It has been my most faithful little diesel companion these past three years of my incredibly transient life.  Where would I be without it (literally and figuratively speaking)?
-An amazing new apartment with a wonderful roommate.  She is crazy like me, which makes every day that much better :)  AND.  I live next to the Walmart.  Really.  You can't get any closer.  I love being able to walk there if I just need one or two things! 
-My little best friend Goobie-doobie-doo.  He only lets me sleep until my alarm every once in a while, but cute little squeaks aren't the worst way to wake up.  All he wants is a little carrot, can you blame him? 
-Having food in the first place.  Cooking/eating is a necessary evil in life.  I used to love cooking.  Hopefully I will again one day.  But until then, I'm thankful for cheese quesadillas, PB&J, cereal, and pudding cups. 
-Sight.  The correct perscription.  I'm going to be a nearly blind old lady with coke-bottle-thick glasses at the rate my eyes are going, but at least I can see now :)  And my health.  I'm not missing any limbs, or teeth... just a few of my marbles but that's it.
-MY JOB.  Without it, I wouldn't have money to spend.  Or a car to drive.  Or money for Goober and people food.  THE TEMPLE (see my previous post) for the peace and direction it affords.  FRIENDS to drive to the airport in the first place. 

Happy (late) Thanksgiving!

Sunday, November 20, 2011

I don't really do "favorites."  I don't have a "top 5" movie list (excluding my inexplicable obsession with the Pirates of the Caribbean series).  I don't have a desert island list of books, or an if-you-could-only-save-five-things-in-a-house-fire-what-would-you-take contingency plan (Goober is a given, don't worry).  I guess I'm not really a "stuff" person.  I have a few favorite people... it's more of a rotating list.  BUT.  I can say with unwavering certainty that I have a favorite place.



It is the temple. 



LDS temples are places of beauty and peace.  They offer opportunities for members of my church to perform sacred ordinances for themselves and those that have passed on.  It is not a stretch to say that you can be closer to Heavenly Father in this place than any other on earth.

A recent blessing has been the announcement of the Fort Collins Colorado temple.  I didn't appreciate having a temple nearby (growing up it 6-7 hours to Washington D.C. and then about two hours to Manhattan when that one was built) until I lived in Provo.  The Provo temple was at most a five-minute drive (although once inside the wait was usually over an hour), and it was fantastic to have that sacred place so accessible to me.  Now, it's again a two-hour drive to the Denver temple.  It's entirely worth the time and gas money to have the experience of attending... but I'm not going to say no to a ten-minute drive :)  Two years til it's finished!

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Winter Wonderland


It snowed on Wednesday.  It wasn't the two feet that is still causing blackouts throughout most of Connecticut and the northeast, but it was a solid six inches, in mid-October.  Awkward.  I grew up with tons of snow every year.  In the forth grade in Connecticut, our plow man/neighbor once dug a path from the front door to the driveway after a major storm, so we could get to school.  The snow on either side was taller than I was!  So, normally six inches wouldn't have been an issue, but since it is still so early in the season for snow, none of the trees had decided to drop their leaves yet (which obviously is a conscious decision they make).  The problem was that the snow was heavy and wet, and the poor little leaves were holding onto the branches for dear life... when I walked outside the next morning, it looked like a serial tree murderer had run rampant through the town.  Hardly a tree stood without some branches cracked or snapped right off.  The tree in front of my apartment staircase was bent so far over I actually had to climb through the branches (still attached) to get to my car.  It was... an adventure.

(photo stolen from Sarah B)

Historically, I've always allowed the snow and cold and my body's inability to control my internal temperature get to me.  I mope and whine and shake my fist at nature because of frizzy hair, numb toes, and wierd entire-body chills I endure perpetually throughout the winter months.


(This is usually what I look like six months out of the year.  Freshman year anyone?)

I was on the road to that last week when I first heard about the ridiculously-it's-too-early-for-this-garbage-foot-stomping-but-then-you-get-snow-in-your-shoes-unfair storm on its way.  I watched in horror and misery as the monsterous angry clouds came over the mountains and subsequently ate them.  I even felt the first few snowflakes on my ill-prepared bare arms as I ran hunched to my car.  I pretended it wasn't happening, thinking if I refused to acknowledge it, it just wouldn't happen.  Then I went to Zumba.  When I came out, a good inch or two had already fallen.  I almost cried.  True story.  On my way home after a few more errands, I was stuck behind a coordinated staggered three-plow caravan and spent the extra time contemplating the next six months of bundled-up misery.

The next morning, I woke up.  It had all been a dream!  Horray!  It was bright and sunny and warm outside.  FALSE.  It was still snowing.  And the trees were sad because their limbs were all broken off and they were naked stalks sticking out of the piles of white death. 

(photo stolen from Mark)



But somehow, overnight, my entire mindset had changed.  My unconscious mind had decided this winter would be different.  Sure, I will have those awkward chills that make me look like I'm having a seizure and allow others to openly mock me.  No, I will not be able to feel my toes until June.  Those things are unavoidable.  BUT.  I have boots that keep the snow out and sweaters that keep some heat in.  And hot showers.  And a car with seat warmers, even though it's already gotten stuck (tender mercy: friends that will help dig it out!).  And an electric blanket.  And an apartment with heat (even though I've already ruined several items of clothing by letting them get too close to the heater).  And hot chocolate.  And thick socks, and fleece pajamas, and...

Yep.  Bring it on, Colorado.  I'm ready for you this year.

Monday, October 31, 2011

"I make bad look... so good!"

Once upon a time... and by that, I mean Thursday night, Nathan called.  He needed help with his costume, the one he had previously refused to tell me about.  I met him at Walmart at 9:30.  He was in the fabric aisle (not a good sign).  He gave me one guess as to what he wanted to be:  Megamind.  Of course!  It's been his favorite movie for months.  An animated movie, about a big-headed (literally and metaphorically) blue alien.  He looks something like this:


I left Nate's house around one in the morning, after having created what we thought was a pretty good replica... for a last-minute no-sewing project.  Fabric, liquid stitch, cardboard and aluminum foil.  And face paint.  THIS is the masterpiece:



Nate's roommate Josh was brainwashed after being forced to watch the movie several times.  So, he turned into Metro Man.  

It's Metro Man!



The two of them together were hilarious.  They really do make great roommates.  My favorite part is Josh's tape-wrapped shoes :)





We went to a party.  We saw my future roommate/fellow newsie (what I dressed up as, with her and Madi).



Spencer and Cheryl are Harry Potter addicts.  Can you tell?  :)


The genie and I!  "Can you see the glitter on my eyes?  CAN YOU?"  I love Sariah!


(photo stolen from Saundra)
 Oh look, the other two newsies (minus my suspenders, which did not really stand up to an entire night of dancing)!  And Megamind with his new facepaint.  All in all, it was a pretty fun Halloween weekend!

Sunday, October 30, 2011

CDA (Coke Drinkers Anonymous)

Hi, I'm Sarah...


(Hi, Sarah)

...and I have a problem..  I've heard it said "once an addict, always an addict."  Addictions are powerful.  Somehow your body becomes convinced you need this external influence to be happy, or in more extreme cases, to merely survive.  I saw an episode of NCIS at the gym the other day, where a girl was so stuck on getting a cocaine fix she was willing to take it from inside her dead brother's body (who had swallowed it to get it across the border).  It was like watching a train wreck.

On that disgusting note (I'll blame it on Halloween), I need to throw something out there.  I am an addict.  Not drugs, not alcohol, not anything as wild as from that show "Strange Addictions" (think soap eating).  I'm addicted to a seemingly innocuous, American-as-it-gets little devil of a habit.

Ridicuolous, isn't it? 

As a member of the LDS church, we follow a set of rules called the Word of Wisdom.  We don't drink, smoke, experiment with drugs, drink coffee or tea, and it even recommends a specific dietary style (grains, vegetables, with little meat).  I have no problem with following these rules, and I know that I've been blessed by not having been in situations growing up where the more extreme "mind-altering substances" were present (what I mean is, I went to/worked at Dunkin Donuts, but I just didn't party til 4am.  Make sense?) 

However.  Growing up, I never had an issue with caffeine.  We didn't have too much of it in the house (although I'm pretty sure my dad would down a 2 liter bottle each day at work... genetic predisposition perhaps?), but at parties/events/restaurants I wouldn't think twice about having a diet Coke.  It was a non-issue.  BUT.  Then I went to BYU.  BYU has an honor code which extends to the far reaches of every student's lives.  It dictates who you live with, who you can have in certain parts of your apartment (and when they can be there), and pretty obviously prohibited any kind of drugs or alcohol on campus or in students' apartments.  Caffeinated drinks weren't sold on campus.  It wasn't until I noticed the missing button on the soft drink machine that I realized some people see caffeine as a drug in the same yeah-it's-legal-but-that-doesn't-mean-it's-okay way I look at pot since I've moved to Colorado.

A few months (weeks?  hours?) into my freshman year at BYU, I knew I was in trouble.  I'd never depended on anything to keep me awake before, even after enduring four years of early-morning seminary (5am mornings anyone?), a part-time after-school job, homework and irregular stage crew schedules.  But then came college.  Classes.  Friends.  Boys.  General recklessness.  As soon as I found a friend going to Walmart, I tagged along and bought a case of soda, thinking it would help with those extra-early (10AM) mornings.

Fast forward three years.  By senior year, I was completely hooked.  I bought a 20-can pack each month (I only drank on weekdays...) and it was a well-known fact around the chemistry department that if I didn't have my Coke in hand, I was not to be spoken to for fear of unfiltered retaliation or mumbling.  It wasn't necessarily that bad, but I just wasn't awake until I'd had my Coke.  My lowest point was probably this:



Kidding.  A little.

Anyway.  Toward the end of senior year, I met two boys.  One was named Nathan, and he was pretty cute.  He didn't really approve of my caffeine addiction.  I know, I know, don't let others' opinions dictate your actions... but like I said, he was cute.  The other boy was named Mike.  Mike and I were fast friends, and he also called me on my habit.  I made a deal with Mike that I would stop drinking Coke after I graduated (only a month or two away at that point) and he promised he'd call to make sure I did.  Graduation came.  In the spirit of keeping promises and impressing boys, I quit cold turkey (although I don't know what turkey has to do with anything).  Mike did call me a week or two later to make sure I'd held up my end of the deal.  I had.  It was rough, but I did it.

Fast forward to present day.  It's hard.  It really is.  As of this moment, I've been Coke-sober for... 3 hours (today was an especially rough day, followed by an especially long night).  It was easy to quit and not think about it when I wasn't working in a place that has Coke just sitting there... free... staring me in the face...  I really have quit 98% of the way.  But the sound of that can opening, the fizz, the way it burns the back of your throat in that hurts-so-good kind of way... I'll always love it.  I'll always fight it, and sometimes I'll give in, but I will continue trying.

I know it's dumb.  But when I think about it, and how I struggle with a petty, non-life-threatening dumb little habit, it makes me appreciate the struggles that real addicts face every day.  I can't even imagine being addicted to something my body craved to the point that I would be willing to give up health, family, friends, and life for it.  And even after "winning" the battle, realizing the fight to not go back is never over...  It really is unfathomable.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Around the country in 30 days.

I feel guilty for not keeping up with writing... but I've been a busy little girl this past month.  Last minute decisions, caravan trips, family reunions, long-time-in-coming-weddings... all in the past month.  It's been unbelievable!  And exhausting.  But mostly fantastic.  More details to come, but here's a short history in pictures:  


One weekend I decided last-minute I desperately needed to have some girl time with my college love Ashley.  After a day of errands and Costa Vida and remembering that life is good, I enjoyed a quiet moment at the Provo temple.  I was the only one waiting in the baptistery chapel at one point.  How often does that happen?  It was a beautiful experience.


My grandchildren.  After "adopting" some ducks last summer, I had to stop by the duck pond at the edge of BYU campus to see how our little family was doing. 

Driving through Utah... I have come to not despise the mountains.  It's a pretty big step for me.

Next stop:  New York!  I spent Labor Day weekend with my grandparents and uncle.  There's nothing more relaxing than their house with nothing to do but read, cross-stitch, and listen to their stories.  A day in the city with Uncle Mark was the icing on the cake!

Ground  Zero.  Going to the city a week before the ten-year anniversary of September 11th was a sobering moment.  The strength and drive of those people humble me.

Two words... mmm hmm!

Yankees game with my favorite uncle?  Yes please!  I LOVE the new stadium!


Back to Utah for General Conference!  This was my attempt at an "artsy" edit of my photo of the Salt Lake Temple.  The caravan trip (three cars) we all took to get there was in itself quite the experience... I learned a lot that weekend.  And there's nothing quite like having testimony borne so strongly to you that it leaves you feeling like nothing could be more true than the words of the Prophet.



Probably the most exciting (and recent) adventure... CALIFORNIA!  I had been once before, to visit Nathan's family for Christmas break last year.  But he wouldn't take me to the ocean (in his defense, it was supposedly a three-hour drive) so until this week I'd never officially been to the other side of the country.  This is Laguna Beach... gorgeous!


The man of the hour.  We bonded while waiting for Rachel to have her hair done.


The princess herself!  We had to help her get dressed in a beach restroom for her bridals.  It was tricky to make sure the dress was kept clean while getting her into it!  She is an unbelievably beautiful bride.



The resort where she had her photos done... breathtaking. 


Tawnee showed us her stomping ground in San Diego.  A giant suspension bridge in the middle of the night?  Sure.  Ending the adventure with chocolate from Extraordinary Desserts downtown?  Perfect!


On our way to the wedding!


He really was giddy in love.  After two years of dating?  FINALLY!


Temple #3... the San Diego temple.  It looks like a fairytale castle!  


Best part of the trip?  Spending quality time with my long-lost best friends.  Meeting new ones.  Loving love!

I promise, more pictures/details later.  Chew on this for now!

Friday, September 23, 2011

Happy Birthday To Me.

Tomorrow is my twenty-third birthday.  In celebration of said event (and because I can't think of anything better to do) I've decided to write a terribly cliche post... 23 random facts about myself, my life, and recent events of note.

  1. I have a freckle on the bottom of my foot.  In fact, I've gotten more freckes in the past year than I think I ever have before.  It's slightly unnerving.  At this rate, in 20 years I'll just be one giant freckle.  Sad day.  Hopefully I can get married before that happens, because if I don't... 
  2. Last week I interviewed for a personal banker position at the bank.  It's come down to me versus a brand new teller that works at the location the position is at (Loveland).  I have six months experience on her, but my time commitment to bank has been questioned (they want multiple years) and she's already been halfway trained.  So... I find out early next week.  (fingers crossed!)
  3. I'm going to Utah for General Conference next weekend.  A bunch of friends are caravanning (real word?) there on Friday night, mooching beds for the weekend, and trying to grab tickets in Temple Square.  (On that note, if anyone else wants to come, I have room in my car).  Hang out with Grandma.  Hopefully see Ashley and Austin and other friends if I make it down to Provo.  Binge on the gospel feast that is General Conference.   Oh yeah.
  4. Putting aside my pending PB job application, I was just certified as a Teller II at the bank.  What does that mean exactly?  I can handle more cash without supervisor approval.  Not that big of a deal.  But the raise is definitely appreciated!
  5. I'm in a "new" ward.  It's been quite the experience being thrust into a group where I know maybe ten out of a hundred people.  I've found good friends in people I saw as just acquaintences before, and have had to get out of my comfort zone and meet some new people.  The switch was conveniently timed, too.  However... (awkward transition to next point)  
  6. I'm moving in with my new-ish friend Meghan in a few weeks.  She's a riot (I love that phrase, by the way).  We've bonded over boys and hard times and dancing and countless other things.  We haven't found a place yet, but it'll be in the boundaries of the Prospect ward, so she can keep her calling as Relief Society president.  And she'll be with me on the caravan adventure (see point #3)!
  7. The movie Megamind is ridiculous.  Yes, it's a children's movie about a big-headed blue alien bad guy who invents a good guy to fight with after he kills off his arch-nemisis and gets bored.  But the well-written banter and have-to-watch-it-a-few-times-to-get-everything humor offset its predictibility and cuteness.  Watching it with friends made it enjoyable, too.
  8. I reached my 7:30 minute mile goal last weekend.  I may have wanted to die by the end, but I did it.  I don't know how much faster I can get, my short legs can hardly keep up as it is!
  9. I'm not addicted to many things, but the fall premieres of the Office and Glee and a few other shows I'm too embarrassed to admit may have made me happy this week.  Not having cable is usually not a bother, but it's times like this where Hulu is a lifesaver!
  10. Fall is here.  I cried a little inside when I had to turn my seat warmers on in my car and put an extra blanket on my bed.  I do not handle cold well.  Why, then, have I spent every winter of my life in cold, snowy places, some voluntarily so?  Between Connecticut, Utah and Colorado, all I've learned is that I just know how to drive in the snow, not how to live pleasantly in it! 
  11. I need a reason to cook again.  All I've made in the past two months is quesadillas (a.k.a. tortilla + cheese) and PB&J... no, really.  Once I went wild and made a grilled cheese sandwich.  It's sad, really.  I have absolutely no desire to cook for myself, but love to do it for others.  Volunteers?
  12. I picked up guitar again a few weeks ago.  One of my friends gave me some mini-lessons and basically let me just mess around, ruining Taylor Swift and Death Cab for everyone in earshot.  Sorry, TayTay.  My birthday present to myself (which I never do, so it's a strange excuse) is a cheap, used guitar I found on Craigslist.  I'm not committed enough to spend hundreds of dollars but I want to be able to play when I'm in the mood, so it's perfect.  I just have to convince myself keeping my nails un-femininely short is doable. 
  13. I'm going hiking in Estes with Jessica tomorrow.  Nothing will ever compare to the forests of New England, but the mountain views I saw last time I went with my mom were not half bad.  And the plan is to find a waterfall... I'm excited to get dirty and tired and covered in nature :) 
  14. Lunch today was absolutely perfect.  I biked around a quiet neighborhood while eating my PB&J (skills!!) until I found a park, soaked in the sun, enjoyed the breeze, cross-stitched and pondered life to my heart's content.  It was as quiet as nature can be, with hardly any people walking by... just perfect.
  15. I went to a farewell dinner for a coworker friend on Wednesday.  She was one of the first people I met at the bank, and I'm sad to see her go (albeit onto better things for her!).  We went to a little Mexican place in Loveland, and I had sopapillas for the first time.  Delicious.  Karis and I bonded over dessert and the awkwardness that had ensued earlier that day when some other coworkers, who hadn't been invited, were upset they weren't asked to be part of the gift she and I had gotten for Katy.  Oops.
  16. I feel like Adele knows me.  Taylor too.  It's kind of unnerving. 
  17. The month of October is going to be WILD.  As in, I think I might die.  First weekend, General Conference road trip.  Second weekend (including Thursday and Friday), RACHEL'S WEDDING! in Californ-i-a.  LA and San Diego?  Yes please.  Third weekend, YSA conference.  Fourth weekend, another road trip to Utah for ASHLEY'S WEDDING.  Fifth weekend, some Halloween festivities, guaranteed.  In between the weekends?  Work.  Holy cow, it's going to be nuts.
  18. Goober gets feistier by the day.  He's started tipping over his house nearly every night, and then gets frustrated because he can't get inside it.  Poor helpless little guy.
  19. I learned all about rugby last weekend.  One of my friends is a little (a LOT) obsessed with it, and since the rugby world cup only happens every four years (who knew?!) he invited a group over to watch.  As I sat there clueless, he patiently explained terms, positions, and rules.  Go All Blacks!
  20. Once I find out about the PB job, I've committed myself to enrolling in an online accounting class through BYU.  If I'm ever going to decide whether pursuing an MBA is the way to go, it might as well be now, while I try to figure out where I'm going to end up in the next year.
  21. My roommate's family (mom, sister, and dog) is coming into town tonight/tomorrow.  They'll be staying at the apartment.  It's going to be interesting climbing over everyone on my way out every morning!
  22. The ten-year anniversary of September 11th was a few weeks ago.  It was disappointing to see how little it mattered to most people.  I realize that the majority of the country wasn't as directly involved in the event as my family and hometown, but church went on without mention of it for the majority of the meetings.  It's important to move on, but it's just as important to remember.
  23. I want to say something grand for my last point, like how far I've come in the last year.  In some ways, I feel like an entirely different person.  Geographically, yes.  Spiritually, yes.  Fitness-ly, yes.  In other ways, not as much.  But I'm getting there.  Here's to another year of uncertainty, decisions, change, learning, and growth :)

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Yep! It's a diesel.



What a strange week this has been.  I didn't know how much I'd come to depend on the personal schedule I'd developed in the last month until it was all thrown off.  Between my long weekend trip to Connecticut (more on that later), staying up too late, not getting up for the gym in the morning... it was a physically and emotionally draining week, but I made it through.  Along with that, I had some... unique? experiences that I couldn't help but laugh at.

-Yet another person approached me at the gas station, attempting to "save" me from the mistake I was making of putting diesel into my car.  It makes me laugh, really.  It's always the same type:  older man, friendly, concerned, usually driving a truck.  Every time.  And they always have the same reaction:

Concerned man:  "Your car takes diesel?"  (well-worded, not accusatory if he's right, or stupid sounding if he's wrong)
Me smiling innocently:  "Yep!  It's a diesel."  (I point to the conveniently placed "Diesel" logo on the car.  And think, Really?  Again?)
Man:  "Wow!  What kind of car is that?"  (feigned interest to cover up the fact he's actually wrong)
Me:  "A Jetta."  (Okay, kind sir, you can be on your way now...)
Man:  "Hmm.  How's the gas mileage?"  (This question never fails.  It's the only thing people know about diesels, that they get better mileage.  About as much as I know, too.)
Me:  "About 45 on the highway."  (...)
Man:  "Nice!  I assume it's turbo?"  (This only comes from the truck drivers, because they know a little more)
Me:  Yep!  (Awkward giggle)
Man:  (insert random quip about his car/truck that gets 15/18/25 mpg to keep the conversation going)
Me:  Yeah, I like my car.  (I know nothing about it, what do you want me to say??)
Man:  Okay, well I just wanted to make sure... (that you're not actually the dumb blonde I thought you were)
Me:  Thanks for your concern!  Bye!  (Yep.  I'm not.)

I honestly do appreciate the type of person that sees something unusual, recognizes there may be a problem, and actively tries to fix it.  Every person that's come up to me at the gas station means well, and it's good to know that there are people willing to risk personal embarrassment to make sure I'm not doing something dumb (as opposed to the sign dancers, who risk personal embarrassment for monetary gain.  Somehow not as classy).  It's unfortunate, though, that it's because I'm young, female, and blonde (more the first two, but you never know) that this concern is raised.  If it were another older man, or any man for that matter, or an older woman pumping diesel, I don't believe they would be approached about it.  Just a thought.  Tell me if I'm wrong.

- The second funny moment occurred on Friday when I was working as a substitute teller in Greeley, a branch about 45 minutes from my own (I often am "borrowed" by other branches to cover short-staffed days, since my branch is more flexible with having enough people on the schedule).  A decently attractive guy came in, we acknowledged each other politely, and I went back to my work stuffing envelopes.  The other teller, Jackie, greeted him at the window next to mine and started completing his transaction.  I could just feel his eyes on me, though, so to keep from having an awkward interaction I just refused to look up.  I was "saved by the bell" when a customer came through the drive through behind me and I had to leave my post.  I quickly realized, however, that because the window is so low to the ground, I had to bend over to extract their deposit slip from the drawer, with my back to this guy... I just felt like I was giving him a better "view" than he needed!  When I turned around to go back to my station, he was obviously trying to make eye contact.  I ignored him, almost just to see how long I could play this little game.  Jackie finished his deposit, and on his way out, he stopped right in front of me (I had to look up, just to get it over with) and he said, "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Nicole Kidman?"  I just looked at him for a second, then shook my head, giggled awkwardly (apparently I do that often) and my other coworker Carrie broke the awkward silence with something like, "Wow, what a compliment!"  I smiled and said, "Thanks, I'll take it."  And then he left.

Here's the thing.  It was a nice compliment, but after a good five minutes of trying to get my attention, is that really all he could come up with?   I would have expected a little more out of a guy who I knew had used lines like that before on other girls, and especially after having that long to prepare.  I know I'm just giving him a hard time, he tried, but... I look nothing like her.  To prove my point:


                                                Nicole Kidman.                                 Me.

                         Sar... kidding.  Nicole.                                                 Sarah.
                      nicole kidman hairstyles Celebrities nicole kidman hairstyles Celebrities      


Now the true test... who is this?
       
The answer... not me!  I may or may not have posted that last picture to make me feel slightly better about myself after looking through all of her gorgeous glamour shots.  My hair at one point was that bad, I'll admit, but sadly enough I couldn't find decent proof of it to share.  And I've gotten it under control since.  Sorry, kids. 
Anyway, that was my week.  Here's to a more sane one coming up!  Smile, life is good :)

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

A love letter.

To my one and only,

It’s taken me too long to write this.  Excuse my poor timing and word fumbling and general awkwardness.  I get like that when I’m in love.  Yes, there, I said it.  I’m in love with you.  It feels so good to say it out loud… if you only knew how badly I want to shout it from the (highest) rooftops!

 As long as I’ve known you (it seems like forever), it’s been the same story.  I’d come visit, we’d spend some time together, share some special moments, and then part ways.  Each time would be an entirely new experience.  It was like I was always seeing you from a new angle, learning every inch of your map, and essentially meeting you all over again.  I felt like I was opening so many doors with you, exploring and learning, even while sometimes getting lost along the way.  The mystery, the thrill of the unknown… I should have recognized the very first time that I was falling for you.

But it wasn’t until recently that I just knew.  I must not have seen the flashing signs before, but I should have guessed a long time ago that I would end up here… it seems meant to be.  In the time we’ve been apart, even with all the distance between us (which, by the way, I take full responsibility for.  I’m so sorry.  It wasn’t you, it was me.) I’ve felt nothing but a nagging emptiness, which I knew that only you could fill.  It turns out freedom ain’t nothin’ but missin’ you (Look, now I’ve even turned to Taylor Swift references… something is terribly awry).   

What better way, I thought, to express my love than by telling you all of the reasons why I care for you so much?  I’m not trying to be too gushy or romantic, but I think it’s the only way to truly express what I feel.  And, since this declaration of love may be a shock to you, I should justify my reasoning. 

You… are old and young at the same time.  You are fresh, but classic.  Weathered, but glistening.  I’ll admit, you sometimes get a little too dirty for my liking, but you clean up well and you’re always trying to improve, which is what really counts.  You might be a little rough around the edges, but I know deep in your center there is a place of beauty, growth, and peace.  You have such a compelling, complicated history, but you are always looking forward and upward.   (Basically, you present these mind-blowing dichotomies that make me all kinds of crazy about you). 

You inspire me more than anything else has in my lifetime.  We’ve shared excitements and disappointments (you can’t win all the time).  You make me crazy, but in a good way.  In one day, you can make me want to be a writer, an artist, a singer, a model, a doctor, a baseball player… you force me to see myself as I am, and in your reflection I also see my potential (I may feel like I’m stuck, but you remind me that there’s nothing a few more years of school and a good power suit can’t fix).  I know I’ll never be as cultured as you (some of what you like is kind of out there), but as long as you don’t all of a sudden start listening to country music I think we’ll be okay.

In all seriousness, I know you’ve been through a lot lately, and although I couldn’t be there for you at your most trying of times, I’m sure you know you were in my thoughts and prayers.  I hurt for you, seeing you recover from chaos and slowly rebuild.  I’m so proud that you’ve bounced back and are now standing taller than ever.  You never wavered in your values, and instead of running from tragedy, you faced it without fear.  I am in awe when I recognize your strength, your acceptance, and your drive to be the best.  

 The problem is, my love, I’ve accepted that this letter won’t change a thing between us.  I have a sinking feeling that if we ever parted ways permanently, I’d be the only one nursing a broken heart.  You probably wouldn’t even notice I was gone.  You’ve changed my life in so many ways, yet I’m sure I hardly left any impression on you.  I don’t mind, though.  It’s enough for me to have just been in your presence, to have learned so much, to have shared the time that we did.  I do wish we could be together forever, but it’s just not practical.  Starcrossed lovers... I’m sure we’ll see each other again.  Maybe one day you’ll wake up and realize how much you’ve missed me, call me up, and we’ll go from there.  I’m not counting on it, but a girl can dream.


I love you, New York City.  Don’t ever forget that.


Yours always,
Sarah Louise

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Orders of business.




Life has been moving pretty fast these days.  It almost feels like I'm just going along for the ride. 

-  I've rediscovered pink sparkly nail polish.  It makes the day infinitely better.  (Working as a chemist, nail polish is impractical.  It's a small conciliation to be able to wear it now.)
-  I tried on my "skinny goal" pants today.  They were too big.  I only got to wear them once.  It's a little bittersweet.
-  I've come to love quiet.  Not just alone time in my room where I can still hear cars and people outside, but complete silence.  There's nothing quite like it, and it seems to be made more valuable by its rarity.  It's... restoring.
-  As of Monday, I've been working at the bank for six months.  Six entire months.  Part of me feels like I'm wasting time there, but I do enjoy it, and in the next six months I plan on getting two promotions.  We'll see where I can go from there.
-  To the (four) people who read this, I apologize; I feel like I've lost my funny.  I don't know where it went.  But once I find it, I'll be sure to let you know.
-  I'm still as much a four-year-old as I ever have been.  Pudding cups have been a daily staple, and I often interrupt conversations to point out funny things I see (or at least things I think are funny).  I had an immutable (yet unsatisfied) craving for Fruit Loops a few days ago.  Maybe one day I'll grow up.
-  I'm going to Connecticut tomorrow for the long weekend, to decompress and spend some time with my grandparents... and hit up a baseball game with my uncle of course.  I couldn't be more excited for a change of scenery.  I've been in need of some east coast love.
Yoga is amazing.  Tony Horton from P90X is crazy, but he made me love it.  Incorporating some of the moves into my daily stretching and our afternoon yoga sessions on the slow days at work have been a wonderful (and hilarious) addition to my day. 
-  I need to find more opportunities for service.  With all this free time, I could be helping others... and it would be nice to have an outlet for my extra energy.  What are some good ideas? 
-  I spent last night with a friend perusing Old Town, listening to street musicians, playing in the fountains, "interpreting" artwork and trying salted caramels.


 The adventure continued to a park where we found a hidden trellis covered in color-changing lights.  We laid underneath and looked up at the lights and the night sky, talking and laughing and soaking in the evening.  It was nothing short of exactly what I needed


In conclusion, life is looking brighter every day.  :) 

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Soapbox Alert

Warning:  Rant ahead.  I can feel it in my bones.  And, I didn't sleep last night, so it might just be a little raw.

Sometimes, I just get frustrated with people.  More particularly the general ineffectiveness of communication and (often corresponding) weakness of human character.  The average person is involved in hundreds (thousands?) of relationships in their lifetime, ranging from those limited to a single interaction (grocery store clerk, bank teller, the person that catches you looking at them at a red light...) to the ones that do nothing short of altering your universe.  Relationships are one of the major reasons we're here on this earth in the first place.  They test us, allow us to be hurt and expose our weaknesses, teach us to forgive and be forgiven, and humble us.  They shape our priorities, opinions and decisions, and through them we experience the entire spectrum of emotion, from hopeless despair to giddy euphoria.  And, if we're lucky, we might just be able to catch a glimpse of the eternal happiness that is in store for us. 

My point about relationships is that they are tools, vehicles for experiences necessary for personal growth and development.  The problem is, a prerequisite for a meaningful relationship is vulnerablility.  As you connect with someone, you open yourself up to them, exposing your soft spots.  An honest, well-balanced relationship allows/forces both parties to be equally vulnerable, simultaneously creating and fulfillling a need for mutual trust and concern.  An unbalanced, disingenuous, or even unrequited relationship (as simple as a coworker you can't get along with, or as serious as a marriage) can be forced for the sake of utility, but more often than not fizzles out over time or ends messily.

My frustration is not with relationships (in the wise words of the Format, "I love love") but in the way people choose to go about developing them.  I am thoroughly convinced that it is in people's inability to communicate clearly their needs and wants that most relationships fail, or never get the chance to start.  It's easiest to explain in boy-girl terms, but at least in personal experience issues arise more frequently with coworkers and even roommates, considering in those situations you don't usually have a choice who the other party is.  Instead of being straightforward and honest, we tiptoe around others' feelings, thinking that we're being polite or gentle or tolerant.  In the romance department, what may seem like mystery and intrigue may honestly just be disinterest, but who would ever outright say "Sorry, I'm just not into you..."?  Instead, our imaginations take one glance or comment, and can twist and grow it into some dramatic, passionate love story, and we in our weakness forget its more-often-than-not innocent, unintentional beginning.  We retreat to our imaginations not because they are necessarily better than reality, but because our inability to say anything straightforward and honest prevents reality from holding much more value than what we dream up for our own personal storylines.

At work, we have candy.  (That sentence is probably the most awkward transition I've ever written, by the way.  I'm owning it, though.)  It's kept in one of the cabinets behind the teller line, easily accessible to all.  The last time we had candy, we all ate it too fast and then didn't have any for a month, which made us sad.  When this batch of candy came, we all made a verbal pact to limit our personal candy intake to a specific amount, so that a) we all wouldn't gain 5 pounds and b) it would last longer, thus, we could extend our enjoyment until the next candy run.  Simple, right?  Well, there's this one girl who decided the pact wasn't for her, and eats about five or so pieces each day.  In the grand scheme of things, who really cares, right?  For some reason, though, this really grates on my other coworker.  She complains to me about it, and even sends me e-mail counts of how many pieces the girl's eaten that day.  It's actually quite funny, and all done in good humor, but it really does bother her.  In a perfect world, my coworker would be able to just walk up to the candy-eater, express her disapproval in a non-judging manner, and the candy-eater would, without becoming personally offended, either offer some reason why she must consume those extra pieces, or commit to reforming her behavior.  My coworker would then walk away satisfied and put the issue out of her mind.

It's not a perfect world, though, and instead of having the freedom to express our concern/disapproval/constructive criticism, we live in fear of hurting someone's feelings.  When you have to see the person every day, you don't want to create tension by bringing up an issue.  So instead we all keep things to ourselves, ignoring issues and living in frustration because we're too afraid to say something that would solve the problem.  So how do we fix this?  It's a two-way street.  First, get over your fear of hurting someone's feelings.  More often than not, they could use some tough love.  It builds character.  I'm not saying blurt out everything that comes to you that you dislike about others, but if there really is an issue, why not get it out in the open?  Second, don't become so clouded by offense at someone's comment that you cannot be softened enough to learn from it.  This talk, given by a General Authority of my church, is much more eloquent than I at expressing the importance of getting over it.  There's no reason to let what someone else says prevent you from doing exactly what you want to do.  If you are given criticism that is meant to honestly improve you, consider accepting it, and be grateful for the person who wants you to be better.  If the criticism was in poor taste or purposefully hurtful, who really cares?  It's their weakness and judgement showing through the statement.

I so appreciate a good dose of honesty.  There's nothing wrong with saying, "I like you."  Or, "Please stop that."  Or, "I changed my mind." (That's usually the hardest one, because who wants others to know that they aren't completely resolved in every decision they ever make?)  A simple statement like that could break this stupid, tension-filled world we force upon ourselves, and allow honesty and genuine concern for others be the foundation of our relationships.  Just don't forget one of the most important statements... "I'm sorry."

Dear World,

Sometimes I just want to grab you by the collar and shake you.

Love,
Sarah.

Friday, August 26, 2011

My apartment complex is quite the place for drama.  I live far enough away from campus that instead of students, most of the apartments are occupied by a... er... less educated, often unemployed, lower income socioeconomic group.  There are police there about every other day, I'd guess.  I think most of the "incidents" are domestic violence cases.  Screaming matches at the pool, people being pushed down the stairs... I feel like I've seen it all.  There are loud drunk people, louder motorcycles, and dogs.  Lots and lots of dogs.

Sunday was just another day at the apartment.  I was sitting on my second-floor porch, innocently eating a graham cracker and enjoying the sunshine, when I noticed a flicker across the parking lot.  It was a fire!  Albeit tiny and dying, it was still a conflagration (thank you, 10th grade English).  Somehow, the corner of someone's porch had caught fire (I'm guessing a cigarette or someone getting a little overzealous trying to burn ants with a magnifying glass).  It was so small, I didn't know what to do.  I watched dumbly as a guy walked out of his apartment, looked at it puzzedly, tried to knock on the door, got no answer, and disappear back into his apartment.  I wandered outside at one point, but he beat me to knocking on their door (I let him).  I wasn't even sure who to call!  Would the 911 operator get mad because it was so small and I was taking resources away from other, potentially life-threatening situations?  Would the apartment owner be angry if I tried to be the hero and extinguish it myself, because the fire was actually his mini sacrifical alter or a grand scientific experiment and I managed to douse his dreams with naught but a pitcher of water?  So, instead, I chose option 3, which is "gawk uselessly and let the responsibility fall on someone else."  A few minutes later, no thanks to me, two large fire trucks, sirens blaring and lights flashing, pulled up, followed by another, although smaller, truck.


Approximately nine thousand firefighters exited the trucks.  After examining the barely-smoldering mess on the porch, one man grabbed a ladder, one grabbed some sort of scraper, and one grabbed a glorified fire extinguisher.  The three men went to work while the other 8,997 watched and chatted among themseles.  (As a side note, real-life firemen are not as attractive as in the movies/TV/imagination.  Sad day.)  The men climbed, sprayed, and scraped, and after about fifteen minutes the entire extremely anticlimactic event was over.

I feel like I failed as a citizen.  Don't be alarmed; had the fire posed any real threat to the porch, building, or people, I would have taken immediate action.  The issue was in the non-issue of the entire situation.  What would you have done?   

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Mission accomplished.

Yesterday I accomplished a fantastic feat of strength, endurance, and sheer will.  It is probably most comprable to the twelve great labors of Hercules, or the climbing of Mt. Everest, or even making the perfect grilled cheese sandwich.  What did I do that deserves eternal praise and awe?  (Drumroll?) I ran a mile in 8 minutes.  Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking... Really?  All that build-up for that measly little accomplishment?  I do that every day... in my sleep... on my hands!  It may not seem like a big deal to most people.  It's not that fast and most people have much more extrordinary accomplishments under their belt. 

The point is, I've had this goal since I was twelve, or something close to it.  I remember writing in my journal that my dad had promised me some gift (I think it was fifty dollars) if I could run an 8-minute mile by the end of summer.  I was all gung-ho for about three days back then, but my heart wasn't in it and I just didn't care that much.  So, the goal fell by the wayside and sat there, leering at me for a decade.  I tried occasionally, getting spurts of motivation that would last a week or two, but the short-lived efforts never amounted to much.  Once, my freshman year of college, I ran six miles straight (nine total that day), but they were slow, painful, over-ten-minute miles. 

This past month, I started going to the gym regularly, sometimes twice in a day, and just ran without too specific of a purpose.  One day I tried the ugly ten-minute mile, and found that it wasn't as grueling as I expected it to be.  A week or two later I was down to nine.  Yesterday morning, I woke up after a fitful night's sleep, cranky and annoyed at the sun for not being up yet.  But somewhere in the car ride between my apartment and the gym, I just knew that it was the day.  The day to conquer what had been nagging at me for ten years. 

And... it was done.  Not particularly gracefully, not with any kind of running finesse, but done. 

A small but meaningful moment in my life.  If I never run that fast again, I don't care.  I'm not going to stop trying to better my time, but the satisfaction of working for and actually accomplishing that measurable goal is something I'm just... happy and satisfied with.  :)

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Can I just have a few more hours in the day?

I have a problem. 

I have too many ideas.

Like,

I want to paint a watercolor.  I want to take gormet cooking classes.  I want to sew.  I want to read Shakespeare's entire collected works.  I want to run a 7:30 mile.  I want to go back to school for an MBA/teaching certificate/master's.  I want to cross-stich.  I want to learn German.  And "re"learn French.  I want to teach myself the organic chemistry I never learned in college.  I want to get a real job again.  I want to be a true scriptorian.  I want to scrapbook the sections of my life I haven't gotten to yet... try everything before 10th grade and after junior year of college.  I want to learn Claire de Lune on the piano... and all of Chopin.  I want to raise a seeing-eye dog puppy.  I want to learn cake decorating.    

The real problem is, I want to do all of these things right now.  So instead, I let myself get overwhelmed, and do none of the above.  Well, I've gotten down to a 9:00 minute mile (which is quite the personal accomplishment, actually) but that's about it. 

Where do I start?  I don't want to start school until my location is more secure.  Many of the other things come down to time/money/time.  I just need to start small.  Othello and a petit four, anyone?

Sunday, July 31, 2011

This post is for the birds.



I may or may not have recently or not so recently become obsessed with birds.

10 VIBRANT commercial and personal use digital images.

It may have something to do with the bridal blog I enjoy reading (don't ask) where many of the latest themes seem to revolve around vingate, chic, delicate, rustic... which obvi (inside joke with some old roommates, again, don't ask) leads to bird cages, nests, and the like.

313

It's funny how you can play with the shapes and colors... some of the birds below don't look like any bird I've ever seen (okay, yes, none of them actually do), but it still works.  And it's still adorable.



This one is favorite:



Is it because they're so strangely proportioned and often awkward looking and at the same time beautiful and endearing?



This one speaks to me in so many ways.  It screams of love and romance, but at the same time is vague, anonymous, and leaves so much to the imagination.



I think owls are the most vintage of all birds, probably because they always make me think back to the old Tootsie pop owl.  And... I want that pin cushion.  I don't even sew, but I don't care.  It's amazing.




ANYWAY.  I haven't had this kind of obsession in a long time.  However, I think I've had it for longer than I even recognized.  I bought these two little guys at Tai Pan Trading in the mall back in Provo almost a year ago...  (Please note my photography skills are lacking.  They're much prettier in real life).


And speaking of real life... I took this picture with one of my first cell phones (I'm trying to justify the terrible quality and small size of the photo) years ago, in Tennessee.  There were these little sparrow-like birds that insisted on building quite intense nests in the little alcove near our front door.  The parents would occasionally try to dive-bomb us as we went outside to get the paper, but other than those few near-death experiences the chicks provided us with much entertainment.  At one time there were five or six little guys, all lined up along the edge of the nest because they were too big to fit inside.   


And this should have been my final clue:  this was a needlepoint I made for my grandma for Christmas last year.  They love to watch the birds in their backyard (a genetic predisposition for my obsession, perhaps?), so I thought she'd enjoy a homemade gift.  I'm pretty sure it was a hit, but then again what isn't with grandparents?   



Well, that's all I have to say about this.  I'm sure I'm not alone, but that doesn't make me feel any less crazy every time I see some bird craft/accessory/jewelry and desperately want to add it to my collection that I don't actually have.

The end.