Slut Hater

An excerpt from a letter recently discovered in my mom's basement that I wrote at age 14 to her :

"...yes, I know I had an attitude but I can't help that. And if you think I can, you do it, too. You say I'm boy crazy. No, Mom, I'm not. Please forgive me for liking a guy or looking at a guy. I'm not 10 years old anymore. And I'm not a slut. I can't stand sluts. You should know that."

And for the record...I still hate sluts. Even thirteen years later.

Gosh, Mom!

Basket What?

Oy vey.

"I don't want to talk about it to you/ I'm not an open book that you can rifle through/ The cold hard truth that you'll see right to/ I'm just a basket case without you/ He's not a magic man/ Or a perfect fit/ But had a steady hand and I got used to it/ And a glass cage heart and invited me in/ And now I'm just a basket case without him/ You're begging for the truth/ So I'm saying it to you/ I've been saving your place/ And what good does it do?/ Now I'm just a basket case/ I don't say much and it'll stay that way/ You got a steel train touch and I'm just a track you lay/ So I'll stay right here underneath you/ I'm just a basket case and that's what we do/ Won't somebody come on in and tug at my seams/ Oh send your armies in of robbers and thieves/ To steal the state I'm in/ I don't want it anymore..."

If you don't own this album and you're slightly emo like me...go get it. Sara Bareilles- Kaleidoscope Heart.

Anywho, I woke up with this song in my head and I'm pretty sure I know why. Making intelligent decisions is a bitch but necessary when someone is making you a basket case. And that's all I have to say about that.

Heart My Friends

A snippet from a conversation between one of my oldest friends and myself...

Mateo: You'll eventually find whatever it is that you are looking for...hopefully you're looking for something good. And no, I did not steal that from a "Chicken Soup For The Soul". That is a Mateo original.
Me: You better copyright that shit.
Me: Thanks, hon. Patience is a virtue right? More like a virtuous bitch, if you ask me.

If only he weren't gay...actually, no. We'd still have problems because we'd kill each other. We're far too opinionated about each others lives. But at least we'd have no problem talking about our emotions like every other man seems to have. God. Bless. Americka.

Fugly Dress

Ever have dreams that are so real that you wake up still feeling whatever emotion was associated with it?

Situation: I was at my mom's house and I was getting married. It was one of those things where the guy and I were like, "Hey, let's get married today!" and boom. Wedding time. My mom was in charge of getting wedding dresses for me to choose from. And she did. But they were all hideous and no one would listen to me when I stated that fact. So I threw a fit. "I'm going to be ugly on my wedding day!". After pouting like a child I decided to try on a short red and nude striped sequined dress. I came out of my room with an air of defiance with the clearly innapropriate dress on and suddenly people cared what I was wearing. "You can't wear that!", they said. I was at the point of calling the whole thing off when my dream-induced-fiance came in and calmed me down and convinced me to try on the ugly wedding dresses again. I was in the process of trying to pick the least hideous wedding dress when I woke up.

So, you tell me, what the hell does any of that mean? Just to be safe, ya'll better keep an eye out for a wedding announcement from me.

Ha.

Fated

"Love's not a choice. It's a disaster."

This is on the cover of the book I am currently reading. Hm. I can't imagine what made me pick it up in the first place. Can you?

I'll Show You Who's Cute!

"You are just cute as a button!"

I hate this. I don't really know why but I do. I know there are worse things than being called cute but... I just equate this particular compliment to something you'd say to a five year old. So it feels a bit backhanded every time I hear it. And I hear it all the time.

Damn cheeks and cheery attitude.

Another reason behind the hate that comes from hearing this phrase is that most of the time all people see is the cuteness which puts me in an awkward position when I really want to drop an f-bomb. I always hesitate before showing people the side of me that has a dirty mouth & occasional dirty mind (I'm sorry but crass jokes are hilarious jokes. Bottom line). I'm not sure how they'll take hearing such unladylike language coming from this cute little button.

Sigh.

Maybe I'll just get a fat tattoo on my face. We'll see who's cute then! Not me!

Can't Say I'm Not Logical

"You know, maybe you're right. Sex has nothing to do with toilet seats."

I've decided that this is the quote of the day. This one in particular was sent the morning after I had a conversation with a certain mister about how a man can (or in my opinion, cannot) tell a lot about how a chick will be in bed based on her bathroom etiquette. More specifically, whether or not she leaves the toilet seat up for him.

...yes. These are the types of arguments we have. And yes, I totally won said argument. Even if it took him a good 10 hours to realize it.

Remake

I think that TLC's song should go a little something like this,

"So (no)
I don't want your number (no)
I don't want to give you mine and (no)
I don't want to meet you nowhere (no)
I don't want none of your time and (no)
I don't want no schmuck
A schmuck is a guy that can't get no love from me"

Seriously, who raised these boys?

Curious

Why exactly does Midol waste money on advertising? We (as in, us women folk) know what it is, know what it's for and, quite honestly, need it.

I suggest they take that money they use on ads and put it towards something more constructive. Like making the packaging easier to open. You haven't seen rage until you've seen me trying to open Midol. It's not pretty. Why do they make it so difficult? I mean, really, is it smart to piss of a hormonal woman? Me thinks not.

But that's just my two little cents...

Girl Crush

So, I wish I could have a smidgen of the talent that Sara Bareilles has. I'm quite honestly a little obsessed with her new album...and to be honest, was a bit obsessed with her last one. I feel like a bit of a kindred spirit with her. I mean, really, look at these lyrics:

"Goodbye / Should be saying that to you by now shouldn't I? / Laying down a law that I live by / Well maybe next time / I've got a thick tongue brimming with the words that go unsung / I simmer then I burn for a someone / The wrong one / And I tell myself to let the story end / That my heart will rest in someone else's hand / But my why not me philosophy began / And I said / Ooh, how am I gonna get over you? / I'll be alright just not tonight / But someday / Oh I wish you'd want me to stay / I'll be alright just not tonight"

Uh, yeah. Damn. Seriously jealous of her skills and seriously loving her music.

Stalling Out

I feel like I've hit a brick wall. Or a fork in the road. Or something along those lines.

Ever since moving I just can't seem to find the right path to take. It's not a lack of motivation, per se, but more like I get going in one direction and change my mind and go in another direction. Then I see something on the periphery and am all like, 'Oooh, pretty!'.

I know that a part of my problem is the fact that I am very much like my astrological sign: Gemini. This is what I'm going through: "Geminis can easily become bored, and aren't great at concentrating on a single project for a long period of time. They become restless when there isn't enough change and excitement, and there's nothing a Gemini hates more than feeling stuck in a rut. When Geminis get bored with a project, they're known to just stop working on it so they can focus on something else that catches their attention." And that's driving me crazy.

I am dying for some travel time, for something new and exciting. However, that's not going to get me anywhere in the long run and I know it. I hate having to make adult decisions. One of my dualities is parent/child. A part of me is saying, "You can travel and go have fun but not now. For now you need to sit tight and focus." Then the child is saying,"No! I want to have everything I want right now! Why is this taking so long?" Their bickering is driving me to some serious distraction.

Bleh. I don't know, let's hope this passes and quickly. In the meantime I'm going to go start reading a third book (because I already have two other books half read and I might as well indulge my preoccupied ridiculousness).

There Should Be Laws Against This

Moving is a bitch. Especially when you're a clutz.

I've banged my knees all up on countless inanimate objects, cut my fingers from cardboard boxes, almost fell down my stairs while carrying said finger-reaming-boxes, nearly ran over several pedestrians in my quest to get to new place (on a separate note, where the hell are all these people coming from and why don't they have cars??), having to depend on people (with man muscles that I don't have) who can't focus long enough to actually get anything moved, and finally, to cap it off, I got into a fender bender. In my beautiful new car.

Not thrilled.

Luckily, it's just a scratch but...still. A few tears were shed. Okay...maybe more than a few. A girl has a right to just cry her little heart out when things aren't going her way. So shut it.

So, on the way home tonight I decided that tomorrow is a new day and that I needed to check my attitude before it wrecked me. Then you know what popped into my head?

"The sun will come out, tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun..."

Yes, Annie lyrics jumped into my head.

Sad? Very.

True? Let's hope so. 

13-19

Teenagers...the fact that all children grow into these know-it-all-egomaniacal jerks is only thing that gives me serious pause to wanting kids someday.

I think I better start saving up for boarding school.

0% Of Your Daily Nutritional Value

Does watermelon have any actual nutritional value? I just ask because I about ate a whole one. Well, pretty close to a whole one. I do have some self-control.

Stop judging. At least it wasn't a carton of doughnuts.

...

Mm, doughnuts. Those have nutritional value, right?

Designated Heart Driver

Little known fact about me...I'm a total sap. As in, my favorite songs are almost always love songs, I adore a good romance novel and besides comedies my favorite movies are, you guessed it, l-o-v-e stories. Perhaps that's why I love (excuse the excessive use of the word, it's going to be found quite a bit in this post so get used to it) my job so much...that and the fact that it caters to my OCD perfectly. Recently I've been doing a lot of soul searching, trying to find "the meaning" of my little ol' life. I've been looking around at other people's relationships and trying to figure out what makes them work or what inevitably makes them fail in the hope to find some great big secret to success to one's love life.

What I have examined thus far has been this:
a.) Toxic relationships where the parties involved refuse to end them for the fear of being alone.
b.) Situations where some push others away in fear of another not accepting them as they really are.
c.) People who want love so badly that they accept ridiculous behavior from their partner.
d.) Relationships where one is holding on so tightly for fear of the other finding someone better.
e.) My parents and how badly that crumbled.
f.) My past relationships and how at one point I thought the sun rose and set with a person when in truth they were entirely wrong for me in nearly every way.

So, the saying must be true. Love is blind. Or, rather, that while in love you are blind to your partner's downfalls, their insanity, your fears, your insecurities. All you can see is that you love.

And, somehow, knowing that it typically doesn't end well, I still want that crazy-in-love feeling. I still have faith that two people can actually get it right. I know that it will never be rainbows and sunshine 24/7. I know that hurt feelings, jealousy and other neuroses can arise when two people share a life together. But I also know that when two people commit to sharing themselves with the each other and understand that certain things have to exist for any relationship to succeed (obligation has to be reciprocal, dependence is mutual and independence is equal) that things can be quite rosy. It is keeping a hold on who you are and accepting who the other is, as is. But besides all that pretty sounding stuff you have to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that the person you choose wants the same things as you do. That they see life in the same general way that you do. You have to know that they've done their growing up, that they've spent enough time alone to be okay with themselves.

Maybe people are just as in love with the idea of love as I am and that's why there are so many failed relationships. Love is intoxicating. Before you know it, you're in it. You've hardly had half a chance to really look at that other person to see if they are ready for you or if you're even fit for each other before you're punch drunk in love. Perhaps more relationships would work if people truly knew what they want in a partner and took the time to see it in another person before letting their heart walk the plank. Maybe our hearts need a d.d. Anyone ever think of, I don't know, thinking it through first? Letting your brain be the d.d.?

Well, that's my newest ambition. To not be love drunk ever again.

Now where'd I put my romance novel?

Ay, Girlie Girl!

Why I love my girls (especially on my birthday)...

1. They get me an amazing spa day at Pebble Beach. Why, hello, 80 minute facial. You are the greatest.
2. They bring cheese, strawberries, bread and champagne to my face all while I'm sitting by the pool.
3. They make me wear pink tiaras and "Birthday Princess" sashes.
4. Chocolate Fondue. Enough said.
5. Dinner at one of my all time favorite restaurants (Filet Mignon with Sauteed Spinach and Mushrooms- Yum!)
6. They are hilarious...
     a. "I think I have a sharp knife in my purse"
     b. "I have no idea what breadsticks are made of"
     c. "Just for shits and gigs" - That last one came from a highly intoxicated random man. Too funny though.
7. They dance their arses off with me

And just all around, made sure that my day was extra awesome. You girls seriously rock my face off! Thank you!!!

Devil's Advocate Much?

Do you ever wonder where you'd be in life if you'd have taken a different path? These foggy days in Monterey put me in a very introspective frame of mind and I'm not diggin' it. Dammit.

What if I had stayed in Mississippi?
What if I had gotten married to one of my exes?
What if I had never applied for the job at the Plaza?

I'm not regretting any of it...just...contemplative. Life is & has been at this strange crossroad. It just gets me thinking. I've never really been the person who thinks too much about the next step. I just feel that it's the right step and I do it. Maybe a little over-analyzing goes into it but, really, once I've made up my mind about someone or something it's pretty damn hard to get me to go in the other direction. Since I've be attempting to think things out a little more, it's getting me thinking about my other life choices. Did I make the right moves by just following my gut? So far...I think so.

Of course, music puts me in this frame of mind as well. Anyone for a little Jimmy Eat World on this day of introverted-ness?

"Well you're just across the street

Looks a mile to my feet
I want to go to you
Funny how I'm nervous still
I've always been the easy kill
I guess I always will

Could it be that everything goes 'round by chance?
Or only one way that it was always meant to be
You kill me, you always know the perfect thing to say
I know what I should do, but I just can't walk away

Oh God, please don't tell me this has been in vain
I need answers for what all the waiting I've done means
You kill me, you've got some nerve but you can't face your mistakes
I know what I should do, but I just can't turn away

Can someone please give me a life manual because...I'm a little confused. Thanks.

Stale Marshmallows

I've got a thing for them. Weirdo.

Honey, Please

If I ever call you "honey" it's not because I think you're just a dear. It probably means I think you're stupid.

I caught myself today yelling at someone driving and going, "Honey, it's a green light. For the love of God please stop breaking. Oh great. That's just great. Now that you figured out that green means "go" it's yellow. Great. No, don't worry. I'll just chill at the red light. I'll catch up with you at the next green light, I'm sure. Moron." And sure enough, I did. And yet another "HONEY! Please!".

I never really realized I said that. Then I thought about it and it's not only my driving rant but also my oh-no-you-are-so-not-getting-my-number starter. "Oh, honey, I don't think so" or "Honey, it's not happening".

It's the Southern in me. It aids my ability to charm the pants off of someone while telling them either a.) they should be wearing a rubber helmet because they are so special or b.) or that while I know I can charm the pants off of them I have no interest in seeing them without their pants or any other article of clothing and that we should just leave it at that.

Of course, it seems people only hear the "honey" part. Guess I'm gonna have use a new line. Bitch, please? Yes?

Random? I Got Your Random...

A couple of things....

a.) Dear Jealous Girlfriend, I don't want your man. It just so happens that we were friends before you even knew him. Or, I'm not even friends with him and have no desire to be. Either way...chill the eff out.

b.) I really need to stop smiling at people. Pretty sure that only attracts weirdos.

c.) Increasingly aware of how I might drive a man crazy if I lived with him. I lose a ridiculous amount of hair everyday and a large amount of that seems to end up in the sink. I tend to leave my shoes all over the house. Curling iron, blow dryer, make-up and all kinds of girly stuff is all over the bathroom. I may or may not use all the hot water. And I'm sure there are many more things that don't even cross my mind that would make a man want to pull his own hair out. Sorry, Man-That-I-Live-With-In-Distant-Future.

d.) Got it bad and I'm pretty sure that ain't good.

e.) This town is seriously weirding me out right now. Too many elderly drivers out who I'm pretty sure are going to hit my pretty new car sometime soon. That and the fact that 12 and 50 year olds are looking me up and down like I'm a piece of meat. Can I please have someone a little closer to my age range jeering at me? Thanks. Weird.ness.

So, uh, yeah. I think that's about it. Glad we could have this conversation.

Mr. Vidal Sassoon

Ah, the bar scene. My bestie and I went out last night for a little girls night and almost immediately she strikes up a conversation with this dude. Luckily for me (I say that sarcastically), he had a friend.

Before I tell the rest of the story I should say that I get a kick out of the back and forth of bar conversations. I enjoy being fiesty and giving guys who think they're hot shit a little taste of their own medicine. I can do it with a smile on my face but nonetheless, I'm making fun of them. It passes my time because I'm not out to find anyone at a bar.

Anywho, this buddy of his saunters over to me. Let me list his top comments last night.
1. So, are you a surfer? 'Cause you have blonde hair.
2. So, when guys come up to you they are expecting blue eyes, you know, cause you have blonde hair. Has a guy ever seen your eyes and walked away? I mean, I love brown eyes but most guys like blue eyes with blonde hair.
3. You have the softest, most amazing hair. It's so long and blonde. *This he says after I realize he's been sitting behind me for at least 15 minutes just softly petting my hair. So softly that I didn't feel it. The bartender pointed it out to me.*
4. I love your hair
5. Can I cut some of your hair and take it with me?
6. How did you get your hair to be so soft and perfect?

Yeah. Then as we're leaving he asks for my number.

No. Call me crazy, but no.

Seriously, why the hell am I single? I have so many great choices. Oh man, over it.

Normal for Exes, Right?

An exerpt from a conversation between my ex and myself....

L: You girls havin fun? Pillow fights and teenbeat magazine?
S: Whatever helps you sleep at night
L: Barbituates help me sleep at night. Hey, got any barbituates? Jesus was supposed to hook me up at the circus but he never showed...
S: Good thing for you, I know Jesus. He lives in L.A. though so you're out of luck
L: Can't trust hippies
S: Well, if you want barbituates then you're going to have to deal with hippies
L: You're such a downer, Easter Bunny
S: I never said I was the favorite of the holiday characters. Santa has got that one nailed so why even pretend to be happy?
L: Hey, if the tooth fairy can deal, so can you. Cowboy up, silly rabbit
S: No, and you can't make me
L: You're right. Not from the moon, I can't. But I'll be back, I forgot my keys
S: LOL, 10 points for the truly insane talk
L: Sweet, gonna spend it on candy
S: Make sure to brush your teeth afterward
L: No, it's stupid
S: You do it or you're never going to get another Easter basket
L: No-wa
S: Yes-ah
L: Know what's in those Easter baskets? Eiggs.
S: Ayggs (Because apparently that's how I say "eggs")
L: That's right. Trick question
S: Now I win 10 points
L: Don't use it all on heroin. Spread it around...get hookers too
S: Hookers first. Then the juice
L: No, the saying goes "ho's before smack, really wack. Smack before ho's, good to go"
S: If that's not a real saying it should be

So, that's a pretty normal conversation between the two of us. Normal? No. Funny as hell? Yes.

Big Girl Pants

I'd like to say that I'm not an impulsive person. That I take time to think things out before diving in feet first. That I take time to plan and execute correctly. Sadly, I can't honestly say that. And I'm struggling with it.

Over the last couple of weeks it's been blaringly apparent that I am old enough now to act like a bonafide adult. I'll be 27 in June (gasp!) and I shouldn't be doing stupid shit like spending my last $300 on a pair of Ferragamo sunglasses or acting without thinking. To my credit, I think I've been doing pretty good (those sunglasses are still sitting in that damn store, just mocking me) but there is one thing that I just can't let go of.

I think I have some major life changes ahead of me and normally what I would do is just pick up and do it. No real planning- just hope that I land on my feet. Fingers crossed and all that. But, again, bonafide adult. I'm not 20, I know better by now. So, I'm trying to ride that fine line between overanalyzing and oblivious.

The moral of the story...being an adult sucks. So does being smart. I hate knowing better!

You Wicked Man

I'm reading Wicked right now and... it's not what I thought it would be. Just a bit too politically charged for my taste. Regardless of the undertones, I have found it fairly interesting.

There's a big "however" after that last statement though. I really struggle with male authors who write about women and throw in weird little tidbits in their effort to seem as if they know what they're talking about. For example, there is a part of the story where a nine year old girl is sitting on her mother's lap and he puts a line in there that says, "and with her left hand she felt the cloth of Sarima's gown until she found a nipple and ran her thumb over it lovingly as if it were a small pet:".

Uh, dude? Just one little thing. Girls don't run their fingers over their mother's nipples like little pets. Mmm kay?

Also, he mentions pee and piss and peeing and pissing about a zillion times. Not necessary. Here I am trying to follow a story line and he ends a paragraph with, "she peed on the floor, and sniffed her urine with satisfaction and disgust.". Great. That's just effing lovely.

Overall, like I said, interesting. Read again? Nah. Don't think so.

Pisser.

Hostile Iguana

Slacker. That's me. This past month has just flown by and I'm still kind of spinning. Anywho...I'm getting back to my rantings.

So, I'm down in L.A. this week and I'm having really bizarro dreams. Not like the-world-is-being-taken-over-by-an-alien-race-and-we-have-to-plot-our-survival kind of bizarre dream. Nope. More like it's a normal kind of day and I'm sitting in the non-boyfriend's bedroom talking to him when suddenly there is an iguana outside his sliding glass doors. And I freak out. "It's trying to get in!", I say. He looks at me with one eyebrow cocked like I'm crazy and asks, "So?". And in my head I know it's nothing to be scared of but I still really want him to do something about it.

I've never had an iguana in my dreams before so when I woke up this morning I looked it up. This is what the dream dictionary had to say:

Iguana
To see an iguana in your dream, represents harshness, cold-heartedness, fierceness, and inhuman poise. It is an indication of both hostility and unstoppable determination. The iguana may remind you of someone or some situation in your waking life that you find frightening yet awe inspiring.

Um. Hm. Strange enough but...yeah. I don't see the cold-heartedness or hostility but definitely am feeling both frightened and awe inspired.

Of course, it could also be that I just bought a Volkswagon Tiguan (Tiger + Iguana) and iguanas are on my brain.

I personally think the first explaination is more interesting so that's what I'm going with...

Pant Leg Rage

I'm not that short. I'm 5'5"...maybe 5'6" on a good day. So, with that said...

Why, oh why, do all of the pants that I try on have to be at least 5" too long? I just want to know. Why. I think I'm rather proportionate, nothing out of the ordinary at least. Can't you people who make pants make them somewhat reasonable?! You're driving me nuts!

Blah. If only I could have a personal tailor at my beck and call. Then I wouldn't need to bother with you people and your too long pants.

FYI - I dislike you.

Drag Queen Songs

I feel a little swindled after listening to a song thinking it's a woman singing and then find out it was a dude the whole time.

You ain't gotta lie to kick it, main. Creepy, Creepster.

Kind of Like a Puppy

Sometimes if my printer gets a paper jam, I feel like leaving it jammed for a little while just to teach it a lesson. Like rubbing a puppy's nose in it's diddle. Bad printer!

I really hate printers. And they hate me. Brand new printer...tells me to load paper...when there is a whole stack of paper in it already. Hate. It. So. Much.

Grrrrr.

Happiness is...

...my favorite pair of jeans, white cotton t-shirt, coffee and a beautiful day.

Bitch Slap

Oh, my family. I think both of my parents are getting funnier as they age. Not like they're-losing-their-minds-funny but...just, wow.

Talking to my mom today, for example:
Me: Yeah, I'm going to stop by Dad's cause he hasn't answered my phone calls. It's probably cause I didn't want the Buick
Mom: Yeah, go over there and bitch slap him!
Me: Mom!
Mom: Ohmygod, I can't believe I just said that!

This comes from the woman who frowns at me when I say "hell" and says "Sarah!" when I say "ass".
Maybe she is losing her mind. I kind of like it. Is that sick of me?

I Will Have You, Pretty House

Me likey. This looks like absolute heaven to me.

**Matthew Millman Photography

Car Snob

My car was totaled about a month ago. Some dim-wit ran a red light when I had a green left hand turn signal and the rest is history. So, I've been car shopping. Luckily, I have my Dad to help. I'm sure it's not hard to imagine that I'm not the best at dealing with car dealers. I'd sound something like this, "You want me to pay what? Well, okay. I guess if that's the best you can do...". While my Dad sounds something like this,"Well, to be quite honest, I'm not paying that amount. I'm paying this amount and if you can't give us the car for that amount then we'll find another car". I have this fear of being mean which I really need to get over especially when it comes to dealing with anyone trying to sell me something.

Anyway, I receive a call from my Dad today and this is what went down:
Dad: I'd like to take you to look at a car today
Me: I'm sick. Don't want to today (I get whiney when sick, FYI). What kind of car?
Dad: A Buick
Me: Dad, I'm not driving a Buick
Dad: Have you ever seen a Buick?
Me: Yes. I have. I'm not driving a Buick. I'm under the age of 55 so I'm not driving a Buick
Dad: But it's a Buick Le Sabre. It's like a Lexus
Me: A Buick is not a Lexus.
Dad: No, but it's like a Lexus
Me: I'm not driving a Buick, Dad. I'll drive a Lexus but I'm not driving a Buick. See the difference?

After hanging up I felt a little bad. Not bad enough to drive a Buick, but nonetheless, a little bad. Damn champagne taste. Get's me into trouble every time.

Look, Ma. No Hands!

Growing up...it sometimes hits you in the face. It's learning to want someone not because you need them, but simply because you want them. You want them not because they are filling something that you're lacking but because they accentuate the good parts in you and dissuade the bad parts. It's being able to stand alone with or without them and be better because of it. It's a strange feeling.

I've just been missing a certain someone and I realized that, while I totally do miss them, my life isn't at a stand still because of the missing. That thought threw me a bit...made me think that my feelings must not be all that strong. After thinking over this line of thought, it hit me. Affection shouldn't be placed because your world would stop spinning without that person. That's a piece of codependency that I want no part of. No, affection should be placed because that person makes your world a little brighter when they're around. Because they add a dash of color to your world.

Hopeless little romantic. Yeah, I know. Shut it.

Hardheaded Woman

I used to think that I wasn't stubborn. That I was a perfectly logical and reasonable girl. However, within the past year I've come to realize a few self-truths about myself that are in direct conflict with that whole "I'm logical" statement.

If someone tells me what to do, chances are that I'm going to do the opposite. Not really a good thing 'cause sometimes those things they're telling me not to do are things that I really shouldn't be doing. For example, smoking (which I only had a very short rendezvous with and learned that lesson the hard way). Part of that, to be honest, was that the people telling me not to smoke were the people who did smoke and if there is one thing that I can't stand it's duplicity &/or hypocrisy. I sure showed them. Life lesson #349. Smoking a pack of menthols in one night does not equal good things.

Another side of the stubbornness comes into play when someone finds it in their nice, lovely heart to explain something that I don't know how to do or something I don't know. I'll wave them off with a, 'Yeah, I know' or 'I've got it'. I want to figure things out for myself whether that be a life lesson (like smoking is bad, mmm kay?) or a "How-To" on something like creating a website or putting together a piece of furniture. To my credit I usually do figure it out on my own but...again, the whole reasonable thing is missing. It'd be quicker and easier for me to just take their help but...no.

So, a piece of advice for those who read this little blog...don't ever tell me what to do if you actually want me to do it. I'm not sure if it's the Italian or the Irish in me but either way, this little lady is as stubborn as an ass. You've been forewarned.

Sage Advice

After getting yelled at today in an Osh Supply Store by an over zealous young man, my mother looked at me and said...

"Well, if you didn't wear boob shirts then you wouldn't get yelled at. Don't wear that shirt when you go out tonight."

Thanks, Mom.

You know these sweater puppies are your fault anyway.

And for the record...turtlenecks don't help. So. At least I tried.

Thank You, Me

Sometimes I do myself favors without really realizing it.

I threw out the last of the chocolate cake last night.

Thank God.

It's True Love

And it's not with a boy.

Pandora. I adore it. I don't know what took me so long to jump on the bandwagon but...I'm a believer now.

Top three station addictions:
1. Jack Johnson
2. Elvis Presley
3. Justin Timberlake

No one can ever say that I don't have eclectic taste in music. So suck it. I'm gonna go back to my music now...

Best Darn Horoscope Ever

"If you were a lollipop, which flavor would you be? Somebody's favorite, for sure."

It's not life altering or especially poignant but damn, that just may be the happiest little horoscope ever.

Los Angeles...I like you.

Top ten highlights from my trip to L.A.:

1. Losing the boys while out and about. Did they ditch us? Oh, no. They got arrested for jaywalking. And guess who had the keys to my car? And also guess who was the designated driver? Irony! Three hours later we figure out that the only possible place they could be is jail aaaaannnddd...we were right.

2. Ripping my favorite pair of jeans all the way up the front of my crotch (I hate that word, by the by). Awesome. However, Kelly and I turned the situation around. We came up with a marketing plan to sell these jeans. They could be the Mullet Jeans. Party in the front and business in the back! The 80's are back, right? I'm taking orders now...

3. Dim-dimmer, Batch and Faggot! (Note: Faggott was being yelled at only hot chicks. Nothing offensive. It's really amazing that this isn't why they were arrested.)

4. Sinus infection from hell

5. Driving circles around Disneyland whilst trying to find the parking lot. How many blondes does it take? Apparently, more than 3.

6. Jello shots from a plastic syringe. Not good.

7. Getty Museum and Santa Monica with the boy.

8. L.A. Kings hockey game. Not one fist fight! Can you believe it? I want my money back! Oh wait. Free tickets. Well, shoot.

9. "I can't find my pants", says a certain friend of mine. Sometimes Jameson makes it hard to find articles of clothing. It just happens, okay? Stop judging.

10. Finding that I actually kind of like the L.A. area. Uh-oh...

Now back to real life. Which may or may not include some plans for a change...

Woman Code

Guys, let me explain something about women and why, no matter what you do, you're screwed.

Sometimes, if we're upset about something and you ask us what's wrong, it's going to make us cry. If you tell us to stop crying, it's going to make us cry even more. If you ask, incredulously, why we're crying...well, you get the picture.

Now, this is something that all women know (or should know). If a friend of ours just had something bad happen we know not to ask "what's wrong?". We pat them on the back, give them a smile and maybe say "It's going to be okay". But generally, asking for a response while a woman is in the midst of an emotional situation will elicit tears.

Now, you're probably thinking, 'Fine, then we just won't ask what's wrong'. Bad move. You're probably going to piss us off even more. You gotta show interest. Gotta show that you actually care enough to see that something happened or hit us wrong. Just no questions. She'll let you know when she's composed herself.

Your best chance of making it out alive is to use non-verbal communication. Give her a quick kiss on the forehead, rub her back and give her a moment alone. It'll pass, she'll regain her composure and things can go on without tears.

Women...we're special. But you love it and you know it...

Dumb Sufferer No Longer

The older I get, the less I can suffer dumb people. I think that by the time I'm 65 I'm going to be the crotchiest (yes, it's a word, shut up) old lady ever.

Not that 65 is that old...my mother would kill me if she heard me say that. I'm also afraid that I got my vanity from my mother but...that's another discussion entirely.

Let's get back to my story... Lauren and I went out to have a drink the other night. Nevermind that one drink inevitably turned into five or six...that's inconsequential. The important and surprising part about the story is that we actually had intelligent conversations. In Monterey. With men! For reals!

So I think that's why the one drink turned into several. It's not very often that people understand my humor, my sarcasm or just general conversation. You know, the whole "something-outside-of-oneself" doesn't really exist in this town. It's also not the norm for conversation to be only that, conversation. No ulterior motives, no creepiness, no stepping over the lines. It was nice.

Something really hit home that night... I would rather be alone than be with a beautiful Abercrombie model who is dumb as a rock. I've known this about myself for a long time now but I tried to overlook it for a short time last year because, well, my norm wasn't exactly panning out for me. I thought, 'Hey, how about you look outside of the box and get off of your high horse, little missy'. So, I did. And that lasted about one month. And I'm still shaking my head.

Main life lesson there: In theory, if they just keep their mouth shut then you're golden. You have something really pretty to look at. In reality, they never keep their mouth shut. Then you have someone to stare at incredulously while you try to figure out just where in the hell they came from.

Nothing Like A Wake Up Call

Haiti Earthquake. So far 50,000 people dead. I'm watching CNN right now and there is a reporter standing beside a collapsed building where an 11 year-old girl is trapped. Her leg is trapped underneath a boulder and while this man is trying to report, she's screaming in the background. Her rescuers don't have the equipment to move the rubble off of her so they are contemplating cutting her leg off. However, they do not have the blood supply to give her if they were to amputate. She's surrounded by her dead family in this rubble.

I can't even begin to imagine the horror that this little girl is feeling. She's lost everything in an instant and could still very well lose her life. It's hit me deeply. I've been frustrated lately. Acting spoiled, really. Things haven't been going my way. But the truth of it is that I am living a blessed life. Sure, things are tight right now. However, tight to me would be rich to others...and I need to be aware of that. I've never had to live through anything as horrific as these people have. The closest I've ever gotten to something like this is through watching CNN coverage. The most I've ever done is small, modest donations to Doctors Without Borders. I've never had to hold a dead child in my arms. I've never had to watch my entire family die. I've never been homeless. I've never gone without fresh water or food.

So, I've had my attitude adjusted. Life has been put back into perspective. I need to stop acting like a spoiled little girl and be thankful for all that I have. Because it really is a lot.

I Need An Anger Workshop

I have been struggling with anger today. Really think that I need to have an outlet of some sort.

It pretty much started the moment I stepped outside. I go for a nice little run today and nearly get run over (TWICE!) by a group of middle aged men riding bicycles who couldn't possibly ride past me any further than 2 inches. If I had swung my arm out I would have clothes-lined one of them which, looking back, maybe I should have done. It just continued from there. God-damned tourists taking up the entire path or walking on the wrong side. Mini-vans and bmw's driving like absolute morons and not responding to green lights and/or taking a left hand turn from a right hand lane. And finally, in the grocery store, men (again, middle-aged) cut me off, take up the entire aisle and, instead of moving, just look at me and continue looking at whatever in the hell they're looking at. Didn't their wives teach them how to behave in a grocery store? You keep your buggy as far to the right hand side as you can. You walk on the right hand side (it's no different than driving!). If someone needs to get past you...MOVE! Good Lord! The pretentious, self-righteous bullshit is getting really old to me.

I miss the south. Why? Because men knew how to act. You open doors for ladies. You act courteously at all times. You're respectful. Even if you have money you don't look down on anyone. You say "thank you" and "excuse me". You just act right!

Ugh...I really didn't start this blog to bitch. I was just going to say how I was having anger problems today and then I was going to write about things that make me happy. So, here it goes *deep breath*...

1. Cherries
2. Candles
3. Getting my hair did
4. New shoes/clothes/make-up
5. Starbucks

All better? Not quite. Guess I'll just keep thinking these happy thoughts. Behave, Monterey, and maybe we can get along. Maybe.

Perfectionism...A Pain In My Ass

I'm starting to drive myself crazy. I've been working on my event coordination website for approximately two months. Now, considering that I don't know what the hell I'm doing and that everything I've completed thus far has been self-taught- I've done pretty damn good. With that being said, pretty damn good isn't good enough for me. So what that equals is a frustrated Sarah who is starting to have anger issues with inanimate objects.

But this problem doesn't just have to do with my website. It affects all parts of my life. If I see something that is crooked, I fix it. Even if it's not my house. I can't stand for cabinets or drawers to be left open. I can't handle it when people leave the toilet lid open. If you want to see me really freak out, leave the toilet seat itself up. The shower curtain has to be closed... always. I have to organize my desk everyday before starting work. If I leave my house cluttered or messy (which, being a girl, I tend to do sometimes), I have nightmares. I'm serious.

I get worse when it comes to events. I can't stand it when floorplans are uneven (i.e. 5 tables on one side of the room, 3 on the other), centerpieces have to be in the exact middle of the table (I've often gone around after the florist leaves to alleviate this), votives have to be evenly spaced, placecards have to be in even rows and evenly aligned, favors have to be placed in exactly the same spot at each setting...you get the idea.

I just have this problem with needing everything to be perfect. I think that's probably why the event industry works so well for me because it's a profession that demands perfection. It celebrates my O.C.D. Embraces it, really. Of course this need for perfection lends itself to neurosis because life isn't perfect. Ever. It's full of flaws and obstructions. Which just irritates me to no end.

Ah, frustration. The name of the game for me at the moment. Who wants to fight?

Day & Night

Oh boy. This year is starting out...complicated.

I have one man crying over his beer about the fact that I'll never have his babies (and that they'd be gorgeous babies!) and another telling me that I'm not bad-looking but is afraid he'll find something better then have to break my heart.

Okay, God, seriously. I got it. You can stop with the practical jokes now. I'm all for getting a few laughs at the expense of others but this is just a little over the top.

SWF Looking For Disfunction, Unavailability

I am just about fed up. Let's examine two more type's of men that I've come into contact with.

Dude #1. Self-destructive. Nothing is their fault. Life sucks not because they won't get off of their ass but because the fates are out to get them. "All I want from life is for you to be happy". However, your happiness is going to come second, third, fourth or fifth to them, their video games, their drinking and their buddies. In other words, "All I want from life is for you to be happy...as long as I get to stay a 5 year-old while you take care of me and put up with my adolescent behavior. 'Cause the first instant that I have to be a grown-up and take care of real life shit...I'm out". When you finally do wake up and realize that nothing is ever going to come from this self-destructive guy, they like to talk about how you're the that got away, the one good thing in their life, how they would have done anything to make it work. Again, "anything" is another way of saying "anything that is within my comfort zone". These types of men are especially dangerous for girls like me who love to take care of people, who like to fix people and be their solid in a world of turmoil. The trick is figuring out whether or not they are the type of man who lives in a world of turmoil 24/7 or if they are the type of man who is just trying to make their way in life. Key word there is "trying". All I ask is that you try. You may not succeed. We may truly be horrible for each other. You may just suck at life. But at least you can try. Either way, this chick is done saving. You want me...make a change. That may not be enough to get me but hey, again, you gotta try.

Whew. Can you tell I feel a bit strongly about this one?

Moving on...literally. And moving on to the next dude...

Dude #2. The fatalist. Chances are that he is more realistic than dude #1. He's probably a very logical person with a good head on his shoulders. Here's the kicker, though; he talks himself out of even trying. Divorce rate is at 50%. Most kids are screwed up because of their parents. People who are married usually don't even like each other. So, logically, it would make sense not to pursue someone you're interested in because chances are that it's going to fail anyway. That's that guy. And how do you argue any of that? It's the truth. But aren't you already ahead of the game just by acknowledging that the odds are against you and that you need to be on top of your game? Don't you think that these people who are getting divorces are the ones who live in a fantasy about what life and love should be? The people screwing up their kids are the ones who don't see a correlation between their problems and the way their parents raised them? It's no secret that people rush into marriage nowadays without having a real grasp on who the person is that they're marrying. I'm just having a hard time arguing these points with my fatalist friend. Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic but I really do think that happiness is achievable if you're realistic and honest with each other.

And then, there's me. Who apparently doesn't like normal boys who want to take me on normal dates and who have no problem talking marriage and babies. I think it's just that my heart is a little too involved with #1 and #2 to really focus elsewhere but...I'm a little afraid that I go for emotionally unavailable men. Which, whatever. At this point, it's not a big deal because I've got big things going on in my life in the form of starting a business. Maybe it's just not time. I'm not stressing, not too terribly much at least. It's just frustrating. I want what I want and I want those that I want to understand what the hell I'm saying. Make sense?

I didn't think so.