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?