Well, actually, this isn't it. This was my everyday life in the states blog, which of course you are still welcome to peruse. However, if you are interested about my Kiwi adventures, please visit this instead:
http://www.andthesunrisesfirsthere.blogspot.com/
See ya there, Mate ;)
Kia Ora,
Sarah
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Updation Station
I had a really great chat with my Dad tonight. I feel like I want to write a poem about it, but hmmm.... I also want to read Harry Potter. I'm SO CLOSE to finishing the fifth book which is completely and utterly my favorite. I hope I write more in NZ. I haven't written barely anything this summer--I think I've written maybe 3 poems... wow. But the up side? I've been reading a lot, and I've been keeping busy. We all have dry spells--or so I tell myself. I also really wanted to paint this summer, but that didn't really happen. I have a lot of things I want to be doing all the time, but lately I've been more chillaxed about it. I know I'm going to be successful, somehow. I don't know how--to be honest, I just don't know. I had a big breakdown about a week ago (or was it two?) about life, career, feeling petrified about not knowing how I can do this theatre career thing, and feeling guilty for taking time off, and all of that. I had just left after seeing Midsummer's at the IlShakes fest (quite excellent) and I just started crying in my car. It was rough.
I'm better now. This week was pretty rocky too, what with getting told my biopsy test results were "atypical" and being scared and anxious that my NZ plans would fall through... but today, I feel alright.
I'm sure I'll feel all those feelings again, but right now, I'm two weeks away from my departure (that is, as long as I don't have a malignant cyst on my back--it's a thing, I had to get a biopsy, I have to wait to get results, but my plane ticket's refundable so it's fine, a pain in the ass, but fine. I'll keep y'all posted) and I feel pretty peachy. If I really start thinking about the fact that I haven't written in a long time, or painted, or done a monologue, I start to get anxious (I can already feel it, I'm not kidding at all) but if I just breathe and ignore it, I'm alright.
So yes, I'm better. I still want to be a renowned actor, comedian and writer and I still feel that I will stop at nothing to do that--it still plagues me and hungers me to no end--but I also want to, you know, live my life, see the world, not drive myself painfully crazy. My trip to NZ is all about balance.
I've also realized that my decision to move to NZ is a direct reaction to my ongoing recovery from my four years at Bradley. It's easy--almost scarily so--to forget how deeply, deeply painful those four years (well, okay, 3 and a half, the last half was pretty okay 'cept for some slight rockiness) were. In my therapy sessions I've realized that yes, I'm burnt out on theatre, but it's predominantly because the only experiences of quote unquote pre-professional theatre and theatre as a serious career decision I've had were through my university experience, which although academically exemplary, was socially a nightmare.
That doesn't mean I didn't have good moments, but having to completely rip myself inside out in order to please what felt like an army of critics (especially Sophomore year) was jarring and scarring at the very least. Oh, I had wonderful friendships--don't get me wrong. And 95% of those I worked with I would absolutely jump at the chance to work with again, and they will always have an excellent reference from me, should they need it. But I never, never felt at home there, and I would be a fool to think it had nothing to do with the ostracization (trust me, this was bigger than the whole, "Not everyone's going to like you," thing we all encounter normally as part of life) I was put through my sophomore year by both my peers and upper classmen. Being told that I was a "big gossip topic" and a "big issue" from many sources, finding out I was being trashed by people who barely knew me, and feeling afraid to walk into the theatre were only helpful "growing pains" in that they forced me pull myself up from absolute rock bottom, which is not a terribly desirable way to learn a life lesson, in case you were curious.
The whole experience is very easy for me to shrug off these days, to say simply, oh well, it's over, or oh well, such and such graduated, I won't see him again, or her again, etc. But the truth is, it had a lasting effect, and although I do think I'm burnt out on theatre as a separate thing from my experience of college theatre, (for I have yet to take a break from it once since I started in 7th grade) I do think they are completely linked. And yet, I yearn to perform, so I know that my career and life as a theatre artist is only just begun. But I must find a way to experience the life of a performer healthily and happily--I can't spend the only life I have being miserable and artistically frustrated, or feeling nervous and like a lesser human being around my future peers because of some sour social dynamics in my past.
In NZ, I look forward to finding balance, to seeing outside my narrow perspective, to forcing myself into another environment and forcing myself to rely on me and only me. I hope to strengthen my self confidence, my sense of purpose, and thicken my skin against a hard world--albeit beautiful, but still, difficult to exist in, especially in the arts. In NZ, I want to write until my hand falls off. I want to create the plays whose characters have been swimming blurily in my mind, demanding a more definitive mold. I want to rock climb, and sky dive, and cry and scream and laugh and feel the ocean and see the black sand beaches and the Maori in their tribal garb and the sun come up, because NZ is the first country to see the sun. How truly fitting for a metaphor regarding enlightenment.
"The sun is up, the sky is blue, it's beautiful, and so are you..."
It is time for recovery, and I am ready.
I'm better now. This week was pretty rocky too, what with getting told my biopsy test results were "atypical" and being scared and anxious that my NZ plans would fall through... but today, I feel alright.
I'm sure I'll feel all those feelings again, but right now, I'm two weeks away from my departure (that is, as long as I don't have a malignant cyst on my back--it's a thing, I had to get a biopsy, I have to wait to get results, but my plane ticket's refundable so it's fine, a pain in the ass, but fine. I'll keep y'all posted) and I feel pretty peachy. If I really start thinking about the fact that I haven't written in a long time, or painted, or done a monologue, I start to get anxious (I can already feel it, I'm not kidding at all) but if I just breathe and ignore it, I'm alright.
So yes, I'm better. I still want to be a renowned actor, comedian and writer and I still feel that I will stop at nothing to do that--it still plagues me and hungers me to no end--but I also want to, you know, live my life, see the world, not drive myself painfully crazy. My trip to NZ is all about balance.
I've also realized that my decision to move to NZ is a direct reaction to my ongoing recovery from my four years at Bradley. It's easy--almost scarily so--to forget how deeply, deeply painful those four years (well, okay, 3 and a half, the last half was pretty okay 'cept for some slight rockiness) were. In my therapy sessions I've realized that yes, I'm burnt out on theatre, but it's predominantly because the only experiences of quote unquote pre-professional theatre and theatre as a serious career decision I've had were through my university experience, which although academically exemplary, was socially a nightmare.
That doesn't mean I didn't have good moments, but having to completely rip myself inside out in order to please what felt like an army of critics (especially Sophomore year) was jarring and scarring at the very least. Oh, I had wonderful friendships--don't get me wrong. And 95% of those I worked with I would absolutely jump at the chance to work with again, and they will always have an excellent reference from me, should they need it. But I never, never felt at home there, and I would be a fool to think it had nothing to do with the ostracization (trust me, this was bigger than the whole, "Not everyone's going to like you," thing we all encounter normally as part of life) I was put through my sophomore year by both my peers and upper classmen. Being told that I was a "big gossip topic" and a "big issue" from many sources, finding out I was being trashed by people who barely knew me, and feeling afraid to walk into the theatre were only helpful "growing pains" in that they forced me pull myself up from absolute rock bottom, which is not a terribly desirable way to learn a life lesson, in case you were curious.
The whole experience is very easy for me to shrug off these days, to say simply, oh well, it's over, or oh well, such and such graduated, I won't see him again, or her again, etc. But the truth is, it had a lasting effect, and although I do think I'm burnt out on theatre as a separate thing from my experience of college theatre, (for I have yet to take a break from it once since I started in 7th grade) I do think they are completely linked. And yet, I yearn to perform, so I know that my career and life as a theatre artist is only just begun. But I must find a way to experience the life of a performer healthily and happily--I can't spend the only life I have being miserable and artistically frustrated, or feeling nervous and like a lesser human being around my future peers because of some sour social dynamics in my past.
In NZ, I look forward to finding balance, to seeing outside my narrow perspective, to forcing myself into another environment and forcing myself to rely on me and only me. I hope to strengthen my self confidence, my sense of purpose, and thicken my skin against a hard world--albeit beautiful, but still, difficult to exist in, especially in the arts. In NZ, I want to write until my hand falls off. I want to create the plays whose characters have been swimming blurily in my mind, demanding a more definitive mold. I want to rock climb, and sky dive, and cry and scream and laugh and feel the ocean and see the black sand beaches and the Maori in their tribal garb and the sun come up, because NZ is the first country to see the sun. How truly fitting for a metaphor regarding enlightenment.
"The sun is up, the sky is blue, it's beautiful, and so are you..."
It is time for recovery, and I am ready.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Sunday Night =
counting crows einstein on the beach at full volume + driving around bloomington for no real reason + sunshine +winnnnnd + chai + getting all my new zealand gear + meditations on forgiveness + meditations on grace, grace as undeserved love + healing + noticing healing having taken place with pleasant surprise + the world is bigger than me + calling Sara +being really thirsty + brain at full volume + leaving the computer to go get some water now
Saturday, August 1, 2009
The world begins to disappear
My brother has the counting crow's cd Films About Ghosts, so I've been listening to it. It's interestingly hit or miss with each song. I think some of the songs are off the charts fantastic, and others, not so much.
I like these best:
"Mrs. Potter's Lullaby"
"Einstein On the Beach"
"Anna Begins" (But I've liked that song since it was introduced to me last year)
"A Long December"
there are a few others that are pretty decent (Round Here, Rain King) but those are the four I can't stop listening to.
In other news, I'm still petrified of death. Apparently there's a name for it--thanatophobia. I'm thanatophobic. Swell.
There are just so many little accidents every day that can erase me from the world--and then all my poetry will go unpublished, my self undiscovered, my acting career forever unrealized, not to mention the whole never having had an actual girlfriend thing or having fallen in love...
I have a hard time stopping myself from thinking--what if something happens on the plane ride? What if I get bit by one of the two poisonous spiders in New Zealand? What if I get skin cancer? What if I have it now, and don't know it? And how do some elderly people live to be in their 90's and still remain fully capable, and others are completely deteriorated?
It's my OCD, and I know it. My OCD plus a legitimate and constant clinical phobia.
I really want to live a full life. I don't want any accidents. I really want to live a full life.
I do. I do. I do. I do. I do. I do.
Okay I have to shut up I'm making myself even more anxious. Also--nothing brought this on. This is just my brain.
One more thing--
there was a serious hate crime in Tel Aviv--a man burst into a gay support centre (not a bar, even, but just a nice place) and shot two individuals and wounded 10. I feel sick.
I lied. One more thing--
I'm scared shitless to go to New Zealand, but I'm excited, but I'm really scared. That wasn't really new, but I'm feeling expressive.
I hope I fall in love someday...with someone who loves me back. That sounds so implausible sometimes. (See, expressive.) It must be nice.
I hear it's nice.
I like these best:
"Mrs. Potter's Lullaby"
"Einstein On the Beach"
"Anna Begins" (But I've liked that song since it was introduced to me last year)
"A Long December"
there are a few others that are pretty decent (Round Here, Rain King) but those are the four I can't stop listening to.
In other news, I'm still petrified of death. Apparently there's a name for it--thanatophobia. I'm thanatophobic. Swell.
There are just so many little accidents every day that can erase me from the world--and then all my poetry will go unpublished, my self undiscovered, my acting career forever unrealized, not to mention the whole never having had an actual girlfriend thing or having fallen in love...
I have a hard time stopping myself from thinking--what if something happens on the plane ride? What if I get bit by one of the two poisonous spiders in New Zealand? What if I get skin cancer? What if I have it now, and don't know it? And how do some elderly people live to be in their 90's and still remain fully capable, and others are completely deteriorated?
It's my OCD, and I know it. My OCD plus a legitimate and constant clinical phobia.
I really want to live a full life. I don't want any accidents. I really want to live a full life.
I do. I do. I do. I do. I do. I do.
Okay I have to shut up I'm making myself even more anxious. Also--nothing brought this on. This is just my brain.
One more thing--
there was a serious hate crime in Tel Aviv--a man burst into a gay support centre (not a bar, even, but just a nice place) and shot two individuals and wounded 10. I feel sick.
I lied. One more thing--
I'm scared shitless to go to New Zealand, but I'm excited, but I'm really scared. That wasn't really new, but I'm feeling expressive.
I hope I fall in love someday...with someone who loves me back. That sounds so implausible sometimes. (See, expressive.) It must be nice.
I hear it's nice.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
What a night!
"Thursday Night at the FunnyBone! Same great drink specials and the show starts at 8 featuring Sarah Duncan and Prescott Tolk. Born and raised in Jersey, Prescott Tolk has performed comedy for the past 10 years, crystallizing his personal experiences as a post-graduate slacker in his hour-long comedy album "I Can Complain." Loaded with clever one-liners, prescient observations, and true-life anecdotes, he turns inexorable realities into hard-hitting laugh lines."
The blurb on the website. My name was on the website! Also--Prescott Tolk--genius. I'd never heard of him, so I didn't know, but he was absolutely sensational. SO FUNNY. And he thought I was really funny too, he told me it was very polished and wanted to know how "new" I was because I had obvious skill. Fuck yeah, go me. The place was packed, and I was totally in sync with the crowd--there's nothing quite like the feeling of making a whole room of people laugh--not just chuckle, not giggle--outright openly loudly laugh. It went so well tonight, I feel like a pro. I need more material to be a pro... but still, I'm on my way, I can feel it, and it's great when others acknowledge it too. What a feeling!
Plus, I had a bunch of friends come out--Robb & Christina and their friend Rachel, my brother, and Karly (the other girl I know who's moving to New Zealand, friend from high school) and Allison (another friend from high school.) I felt so supported.
Whee!
In other news, my Dad's getting married tomorrow, so I should really go to bed... I'm really hungry... I've no money for groceries right now, so I'm a little malnourished.
My tent, sleeping bag, and sheet liner all came via ups today. That was exciting. In less exciting news, this girl I met online (I know, I know, online is sketchy, sue me there are no lesbians in bloomington) was supposed to call me today at 10pm... but nothing. But you know? I'm not really phased by that. She seemed cool, and I'm a little disappointed, but honestly? not terribly so. I mean, no one likes to be quote unquote stood up, but I've only talked to her once before, and I'm not looking for anything other than casual dating. This may come off as "doth I protest too much" but I'm really just writing down my discoveries as I make them. Plus, know what I'm realizing more and more? I'm fucking amazing, so it'll be worth it to wait and wait for someone who really gets and appreciates me fully, because I deserve that--hell, everybody does! And if I never find that someone, well, at least I've got Sarah Duncan to rely on--she's always got my back :)
These days, I'm taking things one step at a time.
These days, (or at least tonight) from where I'm standing these days are glowing with promise, joy, and echoes of laughter, loving, and more laughter, laughter. Plus a sprinkle of poetry.
Goodnight world, goodnight moon.
The blurb on the website. My name was on the website! Also--Prescott Tolk--genius. I'd never heard of him, so I didn't know, but he was absolutely sensational. SO FUNNY. And he thought I was really funny too, he told me it was very polished and wanted to know how "new" I was because I had obvious skill. Fuck yeah, go me. The place was packed, and I was totally in sync with the crowd--there's nothing quite like the feeling of making a whole room of people laugh--not just chuckle, not giggle--outright openly loudly laugh. It went so well tonight, I feel like a pro. I need more material to be a pro... but still, I'm on my way, I can feel it, and it's great when others acknowledge it too. What a feeling!
Plus, I had a bunch of friends come out--Robb & Christina and their friend Rachel, my brother, and Karly (the other girl I know who's moving to New Zealand, friend from high school) and Allison (another friend from high school.) I felt so supported.
Whee!
In other news, my Dad's getting married tomorrow, so I should really go to bed... I'm really hungry... I've no money for groceries right now, so I'm a little malnourished.
My tent, sleeping bag, and sheet liner all came via ups today. That was exciting. In less exciting news, this girl I met online (I know, I know, online is sketchy, sue me there are no lesbians in bloomington) was supposed to call me today at 10pm... but nothing. But you know? I'm not really phased by that. She seemed cool, and I'm a little disappointed, but honestly? not terribly so. I mean, no one likes to be quote unquote stood up, but I've only talked to her once before, and I'm not looking for anything other than casual dating. This may come off as "doth I protest too much" but I'm really just writing down my discoveries as I make them. Plus, know what I'm realizing more and more? I'm fucking amazing, so it'll be worth it to wait and wait for someone who really gets and appreciates me fully, because I deserve that--hell, everybody does! And if I never find that someone, well, at least I've got Sarah Duncan to rely on--she's always got my back :)
These days, I'm taking things one step at a time.
These days, (or at least tonight) from where I'm standing these days are glowing with promise, joy, and echoes of laughter, loving, and more laughter, laughter. Plus a sprinkle of poetry.
Goodnight world, goodnight moon.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Tomorrow
My Work Visa is coming in the mail tomorrow.
The one that allows me to leave this country for a year.
Also, I just bought my travel backpack online this evening.
In summary, I'm officially starting to freak the fuck out, and this next month preparing is going to be pretty chaotic.
In other news, my Dad's getting married this Friday, I miss a lot of people all the time, I got a job at Carl's Ice Cream that I don't feel like I should take since after two weeks of working there I'll have to put in my two weeks (but I want the money... is it worth it?) and I might go on a date in the future, which is mildly exciting. I'm not looking for anything more than a date (with the whole moving transatlantic thing) but it'd be nice to go on one, since it's been awhile. Not to mention, it's always nice to meet lesbians who aren't creepy and who don't suck. And it'd be nice to feel sort of normal/adult/desirable. All of that good stuff that I should probably feel without the aforementioned date, but whatever, I'm human, what's wrong with getting coffee? I'm just looking for a connection. Isn't that what we're all looking for?
I guess I can only speak for me.
Goodnight.
The one that allows me to leave this country for a year.
Also, I just bought my travel backpack online this evening.
In summary, I'm officially starting to freak the fuck out, and this next month preparing is going to be pretty chaotic.
In other news, my Dad's getting married this Friday, I miss a lot of people all the time, I got a job at Carl's Ice Cream that I don't feel like I should take since after two weeks of working there I'll have to put in my two weeks (but I want the money... is it worth it?) and I might go on a date in the future, which is mildly exciting. I'm not looking for anything more than a date (with the whole moving transatlantic thing) but it'd be nice to go on one, since it's been awhile. Not to mention, it's always nice to meet lesbians who aren't creepy and who don't suck. And it'd be nice to feel sort of normal/adult/desirable. All of that good stuff that I should probably feel without the aforementioned date, but whatever, I'm human, what's wrong with getting coffee? I'm just looking for a connection. Isn't that what we're all looking for?
I guess I can only speak for me.
Goodnight.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
7/19/09
Today at church, I was given a card bearing 100 dollars from an anonymous individual who wished to support my New Zealand trip.
Life is incredible.
Life is incredible.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
And now I'm fine.
This is going to take a lot longer than I thought.
And I could do without the sudden flinch worthy flashbacks, Memory. Okay?
Saw Harry P a second time, read all of book one in one night last night, had a good day, going to shower and then make dinner and then go to a concert with fellow stand up comedian Billie. Church tomorrow, lunch with Mom, and then swing dancing in Peoria, apparently.
Oh, and I wrote a new poem. Check it out on my poetry site.
Word.
Is it better to simply move forward instantly from a life experience, shrug everything off, and hope it will all heal on it's own with enough time?
Or is it better to wallow for a certain amount of time and work through it, step by step, hoping that drudging up all the old will somehow pacify one and then wash over you, clean and able to move forward then and only then?
Is there a balance?
I don't want to go on bedrest so to speak, but I also don't want to slap on a bandaid and jump back into the day to day, ignoring the twinge everytime the metaphorical wound breaks slightly open again if I bend the wrong way. This is a huge metaphor, p.s.
I've just realized that I'm still a little sore about some past o mine, and I know that I'm rather purposefully making myself think about stuff, but at the same time, I know I can't just say, "Oh well," and be fine.
Or maybe I could?
Oh well.
And I could do without the sudden flinch worthy flashbacks, Memory. Okay?
Saw Harry P a second time, read all of book one in one night last night, had a good day, going to shower and then make dinner and then go to a concert with fellow stand up comedian Billie. Church tomorrow, lunch with Mom, and then swing dancing in Peoria, apparently.
Oh, and I wrote a new poem. Check it out on my poetry site.
Word.
Is it better to simply move forward instantly from a life experience, shrug everything off, and hope it will all heal on it's own with enough time?
Or is it better to wallow for a certain amount of time and work through it, step by step, hoping that drudging up all the old will somehow pacify one and then wash over you, clean and able to move forward then and only then?
Is there a balance?
I don't want to go on bedrest so to speak, but I also don't want to slap on a bandaid and jump back into the day to day, ignoring the twinge everytime the metaphorical wound breaks slightly open again if I bend the wrong way. This is a huge metaphor, p.s.
I've just realized that I'm still a little sore about some past o mine, and I know that I'm rather purposefully making myself think about stuff, but at the same time, I know I can't just say, "Oh well," and be fine.
Or maybe I could?
Oh well.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Musings before bed
1. Harry Potter Six was gooooooooood. Some iffy moments of acting as per usual, but some really great stuff too. And Harry had some hilarious bits in this film. It's a pretty dark movie, but it was also laugh out loud raucously funny. "Hi!" If you've seen the film, you'll get that.
2. I think even though I've been pretty single the majority of my "adult life," I've never been the kind of single where there isn't at least one person majorly in my life that I either have unrequited feelings for, have somewhat unrequited feelings for but it's complicated, have requited feelings for but it doesn't work out and then there's general angst, or just a random crush. I assume this is normal. What I'm saying is, I can't remember a periodt of my life when I was without "someone" to think/brood/etc about, even though I never had an "official" girlfriend. I like to say and believe that I'm "good" at being single, and I believe this is true, but I'm only good at being the kind of single I've described. I wonder what it would be like to not have someone in the periphery at all times, or sometimes 3 or 4 someones. It might not be possible, but it is intriguing.
3. I'm reading a book called Everything Belongs. Wait, did I mention that already? Yes, yes I did. In a previous post, that is.
4. I really want to get more into The Format and Beck. Especially Beck. I normally don't love bands with guy singers (not a prejudice just a preference) but there's is something really alluring about Beck's music. I also recently listened to some Smith's stuff--pretty good, most definitely.
I really love love love music.
5. Today was a bizarre day. Car confusion, work, construction, starvation, phone call to Elizabeth, food, failed attempts, a pleasant text, bad time wasting/emotional feeding of fire decisions, unexpected crying while changing clothes that ended as soon as it began, coffeehouse visit to get work done and focus, phone call to Anne that made me feel better, not much work done, much pita, hummus and veggies consumed, feelings of laziness and anxiousness abound over lack of productivity and creativity--no real writing has happened--at least poetry wise--in a month. Self-beratment. Text Robbie, Harry Potter, whee! Home--rejoice to see fruit in the kitchen, eat a banana joyously, go to bed.
6. I have to wak up at 5 am tomorrow to walk Mollie, the family dog. I'm getting paid 20 bucks a day to do it, or else I wouldn't. It's going to suck. Biiiiig time.
7. Tomorrow is pay day and I have never been more excited for a payday in my entire life so far.
8. My acne lotion keeps the acne at bay, but it also keeps the moisture in my face at bay. Booo.
9. A friend owes me over a hundred dollars and she's owed me since May. Love the girl, but I need this money BIG TIME and it's turning me into an asshole debt collector. I have a feeling she won't like me by the time the summer is over. But that's a lot of money, and I need it for my trip.
10. I need to do laundry. Badly.
11. "Let's tune out by turning on the radio..."
Bon nuit.
2. I think even though I've been pretty single the majority of my "adult life," I've never been the kind of single where there isn't at least one person majorly in my life that I either have unrequited feelings for, have somewhat unrequited feelings for but it's complicated, have requited feelings for but it doesn't work out and then there's general angst, or just a random crush. I assume this is normal. What I'm saying is, I can't remember a periodt of my life when I was without "someone" to think/brood/etc about, even though I never had an "official" girlfriend. I like to say and believe that I'm "good" at being single, and I believe this is true, but I'm only good at being the kind of single I've described. I wonder what it would be like to not have someone in the periphery at all times, or sometimes 3 or 4 someones. It might not be possible, but it is intriguing.
3. I'm reading a book called Everything Belongs. Wait, did I mention that already? Yes, yes I did. In a previous post, that is.
4. I really want to get more into The Format and Beck. Especially Beck. I normally don't love bands with guy singers (not a prejudice just a preference) but there's is something really alluring about Beck's music. I also recently listened to some Smith's stuff--pretty good, most definitely.
I really love love love music.
5. Today was a bizarre day. Car confusion, work, construction, starvation, phone call to Elizabeth, food, failed attempts, a pleasant text, bad time wasting/emotional feeding of fire decisions, unexpected crying while changing clothes that ended as soon as it began, coffeehouse visit to get work done and focus, phone call to Anne that made me feel better, not much work done, much pita, hummus and veggies consumed, feelings of laziness and anxiousness abound over lack of productivity and creativity--no real writing has happened--at least poetry wise--in a month. Self-beratment. Text Robbie, Harry Potter, whee! Home--rejoice to see fruit in the kitchen, eat a banana joyously, go to bed.
6. I have to wak up at 5 am tomorrow to walk Mollie, the family dog. I'm getting paid 20 bucks a day to do it, or else I wouldn't. It's going to suck. Biiiiig time.
7. Tomorrow is pay day and I have never been more excited for a payday in my entire life so far.
8. My acne lotion keeps the acne at bay, but it also keeps the moisture in my face at bay. Booo.
9. A friend owes me over a hundred dollars and she's owed me since May. Love the girl, but I need this money BIG TIME and it's turning me into an asshole debt collector. I have a feeling she won't like me by the time the summer is over. But that's a lot of money, and I need it for my trip.
10. I need to do laundry. Badly.
11. "Let's tune out by turning on the radio..."
Bon nuit.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Confession:
Engaging in online dating makes me feel like a total tool... but I've decided it's no real different from meeting someone on facebook, and I've definitely done that... more than once... so I choose to be excited about someone (who is darn cute and seemingly intelligent and charming) thinking I'm darn cute and seemingly intelligent and charming.
So there.
Engaging in online dating makes me feel like a total tool... but I've decided it's no real different from meeting someone on facebook, and I've definitely done that... more than once... so I choose to be excited about someone (who is darn cute and seemingly intelligent and charming) thinking I'm darn cute and seemingly intelligent and charming.
So there.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Jessica, Your Wedding Was Amazing! But in other news...
I'm reading a book recommended to me by my mother's Spiritual Adivsor. It's called Everything Belongs, and it's actually damn good.
Two phrases that are turning in my head right now:
1. Tabula Rasa--it's a common phrase, (and a buffy ep title) but it's latin for "clean slate."
2. This is a prayer I find incredibly soothing and also hits to the heart of what I believe God is:
God beneath you,
God in front of you,
God behind you,
God above you,
God within you.
What's cool to me is that you can replace "God" with a "Joy" or "Love" or "Light" or "Peace" or pretty much anything like that, and to me, the prayer doesn't change, because I believe God is all of those things, and all of those things are God.
Cool, huh?
Two phrases that are turning in my head right now:
1. Tabula Rasa--it's a common phrase, (and a buffy ep title) but it's latin for "clean slate."
2. This is a prayer I find incredibly soothing and also hits to the heart of what I believe God is:
God beneath you,
God in front of you,
God behind you,
God above you,
God within you.
What's cool to me is that you can replace "God" with a "Joy" or "Love" or "Light" or "Peace" or pretty much anything like that, and to me, the prayer doesn't change, because I believe God is all of those things, and all of those things are God.
Cool, huh?
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
SONGS
that you must listen to.
1. Whatever Gets You Through the Day, The Radio
2. For Beginners, M. Ward (beautiful beautiful song.)
3. Adventures in Solitude, The New Pornographers
4. Heimdals Gate Like a Promethean Curse, Of Montreal
5. Words Cannot Describe, Mirah
6. Mushaboom, Feist
7. Engine, Neutral Milk Hotel
8. The Sound of Settling, Death Cab for Cutie
9. The Frug, Rilo Kiley
10. Us, Regina Spektor
11. URAQT, M.I.A
12. Ringa Ringa, The Slumdog Millionaire Soundtrack
13. The Littlest Birds, The Be Good Tanyas
14. Terrible Angels, Cocorosie
15. As Cool As I Am, Dar Williams
16. Lights On, The Pierces
17. World Spinds Madly On, The Weepies
18. You and I, Ingrid Michaelson
19. Pot Kettle Black, Tilly and the Wall
20. Whatever (Folk Song in C), Elliot Smith
21. Invisible Ink, Aimee Mann
22. Names and Dates, Ani Difranco
23. Again & Again, The Bird and the Bee
24. In the Sun, Joseph Arthur
25. I Can, I Will, I Do, The Barenaked Ladies
26. A Sorta Fairytale, Tori Amos
27. July, July! The Decemberists
28. Step Into My Office, Baby, Belle & Sebastian
29. Cartoons and Forever Plans, Maria Taylor
30. Old Times, The Whispertown 2000
31. I Hear Noises, Tegan and Sara OR Underwater, Tegan and Sara
32. Love Again, The Dirt Poor Robins
33. Say You Will, Fleetwood Mac
34. Who Is It, Bjork
35. The Earth Keeps Turning On, Mr. Smolin
Honorary Mentions:
All For Swinging You Around, The New Pornographers
Anna Begins, Counting Crows
You Could Make a Killing, Aimee Mann
Fell Down the Stairs OR Falling Without Knowing, Tilly and the Wall
Rain Check OR Hour Follows Hour OR Joyful Girl OR Dilate OR You Had Time, Ani Difranco
O...Saya, The Slumdog Millionaire Soundtrack
*the OR's are really just so I can list more songs. You don't have choose one or the other. Just listen to them all.
1. Whatever Gets You Through the Day, The Radio
2. For Beginners, M. Ward (beautiful beautiful song.)
3. Adventures in Solitude, The New Pornographers
4. Heimdals Gate Like a Promethean Curse, Of Montreal
5. Words Cannot Describe, Mirah
6. Mushaboom, Feist
7. Engine, Neutral Milk Hotel
8. The Sound of Settling, Death Cab for Cutie
9. The Frug, Rilo Kiley
10. Us, Regina Spektor
11. URAQT, M.I.A
12. Ringa Ringa, The Slumdog Millionaire Soundtrack
13. The Littlest Birds, The Be Good Tanyas
14. Terrible Angels, Cocorosie
15. As Cool As I Am, Dar Williams
16. Lights On, The Pierces
17. World Spinds Madly On, The Weepies
18. You and I, Ingrid Michaelson
19. Pot Kettle Black, Tilly and the Wall
20. Whatever (Folk Song in C), Elliot Smith
21. Invisible Ink, Aimee Mann
22. Names and Dates, Ani Difranco
23. Again & Again, The Bird and the Bee
24. In the Sun, Joseph Arthur
25. I Can, I Will, I Do, The Barenaked Ladies
26. A Sorta Fairytale, Tori Amos
27. July, July! The Decemberists
28. Step Into My Office, Baby, Belle & Sebastian
29. Cartoons and Forever Plans, Maria Taylor
30. Old Times, The Whispertown 2000
31. I Hear Noises, Tegan and Sara OR Underwater, Tegan and Sara
32. Love Again, The Dirt Poor Robins
33. Say You Will, Fleetwood Mac
34. Who Is It, Bjork
35. The Earth Keeps Turning On, Mr. Smolin
Honorary Mentions:
All For Swinging You Around, The New Pornographers
Anna Begins, Counting Crows
You Could Make a Killing, Aimee Mann
Fell Down the Stairs OR Falling Without Knowing, Tilly and the Wall
Rain Check OR Hour Follows Hour OR Joyful Girl OR Dilate OR You Had Time, Ani Difranco
O...Saya, The Slumdog Millionaire Soundtrack
*the OR's are really just so I can list more songs. You don't have choose one or the other. Just listen to them all.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Two posts on the same day, I know....
My computer tells me that it detects no battery. Gee, PC, that's funny. Because I sure detect a battery. In fact, I can take it out and hold it in my hand. Pretty sure it exists. My imagination's good, but it's not that good....
The summer is flying by.
I'm starting to get really really anxious about this transatlantic (or I suppose pacific) leap I'm making. It's starting to feel oh so very real and oh so very exciting and oh so very numbingly petrifying.
I just hope my Visa App goes through with no problems. I was going to send it today... but the parentals didn't tell me they were taking "my" (it's not really mine, but it's the car I drive while I'm home) car into the shop today... and my mom wouldn't let me take hers. Agency, agency! Wherefore art thou, Agency?
I've got buy a big backpack (no, really), do a bunch of research on hostels, figure out if/when I'm meeting up with Karly when I get there (my h.s. friend who's doing the same program), figure out what to pack, figure out a way to bully my physicians into giving me the medicine I need for more than one month because oh come onnnn I'm going fucking abroad, I'm not going to overdose on my ADHD meds, just hand them over.
I've got to do laundry, sort through poetry, get all the data off my previous computer and transfer it to this computer, make sure my files are saved and backed up on my laptop, find a way to take all of them safely to NZ (I have to take all my writing/projects), get my hair trimmed, figure out if I'm going to take my money in traveler's checks or not, freak out, freak out, freak out, make plans to write a lot of goodbye see you later cards that I will never complete...miss people, cry, freak out, get really excited, freak out, get really excited.
Summer's halfway over, y'all.
The summer is flying by.
I'm starting to get really really anxious about this transatlantic (or I suppose pacific) leap I'm making. It's starting to feel oh so very real and oh so very exciting and oh so very numbingly petrifying.
I just hope my Visa App goes through with no problems. I was going to send it today... but the parentals didn't tell me they were taking "my" (it's not really mine, but it's the car I drive while I'm home) car into the shop today... and my mom wouldn't let me take hers. Agency, agency! Wherefore art thou, Agency?
I've got buy a big backpack (no, really), do a bunch of research on hostels, figure out if/when I'm meeting up with Karly when I get there (my h.s. friend who's doing the same program), figure out what to pack, figure out a way to bully my physicians into giving me the medicine I need for more than one month because oh come onnnn I'm going fucking abroad, I'm not going to overdose on my ADHD meds, just hand them over.
I've got to do laundry, sort through poetry, get all the data off my previous computer and transfer it to this computer, make sure my files are saved and backed up on my laptop, find a way to take all of them safely to NZ (I have to take all my writing/projects), get my hair trimmed, figure out if I'm going to take my money in traveler's checks or not, freak out, freak out, freak out, make plans to write a lot of goodbye see you later cards that I will never complete...miss people, cry, freak out, get really excited, freak out, get really excited.
Summer's halfway over, y'all.
Sore heart?
I feel both wonderful and awful at the same time. They're sort of canceling each other out, so I'm in a rather bizarre state.
I woke up this morning with what could actually be described as my heart hurting, and I'm not speaking medically. Nothing is really wrong, just last night I did some stand up in downtown BNL, (which went wonderfully, everyone was very positive and heartily laughed) but it was a bit trippy memory lane style. Some people I went to High School with were there, and that wasn't a bad thing at all--but it just sent me back. And especially since lately I've been doing a lot of reflecting on my whole "cool inferiority complex" (it's a thing... I've realized that there are certain aspects in the women I get very attracted to--I think they're "cool"-er than me, they've got a sort of elitist posh--they're quirky, but edgy and charmy and... well, they sort of embody my definition of cool, the completely woman. I'm usually really wrong, and they're just a human like myself, but like I said... it's a whole insecure personal issues thing.) and so being in a sort of post high school environment was rather trippy. And then I just had a whole bunch of dreams about an assortment (seriously, we're talking multiple) people. Not to mention my ex step mom tried to friend me on facebook, and well... not a fan of that.
I just want to heal from everything, cut my losses, and move forward.
But it's never that clean or bloodless or simple, is it?
Well... today should be good, at least. Seeing many friends. And by many, I mean 2 or 3. But for me, that's plenty :)
I woke up this morning with what could actually be described as my heart hurting, and I'm not speaking medically. Nothing is really wrong, just last night I did some stand up in downtown BNL, (which went wonderfully, everyone was very positive and heartily laughed) but it was a bit trippy memory lane style. Some people I went to High School with were there, and that wasn't a bad thing at all--but it just sent me back. And especially since lately I've been doing a lot of reflecting on my whole "cool inferiority complex" (it's a thing... I've realized that there are certain aspects in the women I get very attracted to--I think they're "cool"-er than me, they've got a sort of elitist posh--they're quirky, but edgy and charmy and... well, they sort of embody my definition of cool, the completely woman. I'm usually really wrong, and they're just a human like myself, but like I said... it's a whole insecure personal issues thing.) and so being in a sort of post high school environment was rather trippy. And then I just had a whole bunch of dreams about an assortment (seriously, we're talking multiple) people. Not to mention my ex step mom tried to friend me on facebook, and well... not a fan of that.
I just want to heal from everything, cut my losses, and move forward.
But it's never that clean or bloodless or simple, is it?
Well... today should be good, at least. Seeing many friends. And by many, I mean 2 or 3. But for me, that's plenty :)
Saturday, July 4, 2009
I Wish...
That I was afraid of spiders. Or something conquerable. (Is this a word?) Instead, I'm petrified of death, dying young, and losing my loved ones to it. ... and I will be, until I actually die. I can't just step on death like I can step on spiders. What a freaky phobia.
...Happy Fourth.
...Happy Fourth.
Monday, June 29, 2009
I'm back in BloNo, and I'll admit to being in a funk, and not the good kind.
It was a really good weekend, though a little bittersweet. My world just feels so strange these days. Changes, changes, changes. Life is such a whirlwind of new and old and hello and farewell. I half expect to wake up in Oz one of these days wearing ruby slippers and skipping down a strange road with oddly featured friends.
Anyway.
Current thoughts: I'm not a great cook, but what I make, I make well. I made pesto pasta for the second time tonight, and damn, it was good. My family agreed. Also, I know it's my OCD, but I'm feeling less than satisfied with my physical shape right now, which I *realize* is stupid and irrational, but it's how I feel. So, I'm going to start working out soon. Scratch "soon"-- more like, tomorrow. I just feel flabby. (I also know that 30 min or cardio a day is not only excellent for energy but for overall health, so I'm doing it for those reasons too. Last summer when I was working out a lot, I felt fantastic. Currently, I feel like a lazy blob, so I'm seeking to fix this.) I wish I could get over my damn arm thing. It's a comparison thing, really. I feel great about myself until I start going, "Well, they look like this, and they're making a great career off their looks and talent as an actor, so if I want to do the same..." It's silly, but it's a mixture of my obsessive compulsive disorder (unwanted thought syndrome--as we all know Sarah thinks WAY too much, right Doug? This blog is proof. Hell, it's beyond proof.) and media pressures and pressures that go hand in hand with the profession I'm in. Also, it sucks because whenever I watch Buffy 7th season now (smgellar lost a ton of weight over the seasons--actually, i think she looks super scary in 7th season, like someone feed her a cracker, please, but regardless, my ocd tends to win occasionally with-->), I can't stop looking at all the characters arms, thinking, "mine aren't as toned as that, mine are flabbier than that--shit, I'll *never* get a tv job!" (I prefer stage, but I've always REALLY wanted to be on Law and Order or something like The Office or Buffy or Weeds.) Again with the I know it's not rational, but clearly a part of me thinks it is, or it wouldn't be so damn convincing. Blech. People are dying in airplane crashes, or in their own home (re: Michael J) and coups are happening in Honduras and I'm complaining about imaginary flabby arms. Perspective, Sarah?
Other thoughts.
1. Lonely. My friends feel so far from me--I have so many, but they're spread all around the globe like globular jelly. I want all the bits and gooey pieces of strawberry in one spot on my bread, please.
2. I'm getting tan! Well, tan for me. I'm excited.
3. I still don't have a fucking job in blono. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck. Baxter's grill decided to go with "no."
4. See three.
5. With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.
6. However, I do not feel laid back.
7. I have to stop buying itunes, and that's going to suck.
8. I have a lot of paper work to do for NZ still. And packing!
9. It was good talking to you. I'm glad I chose to, you know, not pretend we were strangers. If you ever read this--thanks for indulging me. It was a nice way to leave it. Merci beacoup.
10. Bye, One World and One World Crew. I'll miss you and love you all more than you know. Well, I don't love two jerky guys, but everyone else.
10a. I hope Michell's daughter's okay.
11. Today I saw a "Party Trolly" in Peoria. What!?
12. I really need to publish my poetry. I feel like such a slacker right now, it's depressing. I know I just need to do it, but for some reason, my go getterness seems to only come in spurts. I act when it counts, but I put off stuff at the same time. What the hell? (It's probably linked to your ADHD, dear.) And what about that memoir I'm writing? And those plays? Hey, Sarah, you ever going to write another play? Get cracking! Come on! (Ahh!)
13. MY ROOM. AH. SOMEONE COME OVER AND HELP ME before the boxes breed. Oh wait, the only friend that would actually enjoy that... is in Peoria. (looking at you Kyla. Miss you. A lot, in fact).
14. Seeing Shakespeare with Dad on Wednesday! Yay! But I'm nervous it'll make me really miss theatre (not a bad thing by itself, but --->) and then feel bad for not jumping right into career mode and choosing NZ instead of going to Chicago right away. Just because I know NZ is right for me doesn't mean there aren't oodles of doubt and fear. Thinker, remember?
15. I need to find monologues. "I need to accomplish and be perfect at everything!" Gah!
16. That guy better stay the fuck away from my friends, or I'm calling the cops on him. I mean it. Call my bluff, asshole.
17. Why won't anyone hire me? I'm awesome. ("'Cuz it's the middle of the summer, Sarah." "Shut up, rational self.")
18. I hope I poop soon. Too much bread today. Frick.
19. I need to write my to do list. It's long.
20. How much money do I need to spend to prep for NZ? What kind of bag will I need? How expensive are backpacks? How the hell am I going to get my meds over there??
21. I want to do more stand up. I've been doing a steady amount, but I want more. But Trey is moving. :( And that means one more friend to miss a lot (I mean it, Trey) and zero transportation to my gigs. Or at least, zero comedy partner Trey transportation. I'm going to miss us as a team. :(
22. I really need to write more jokes.
23. Why am I so lazy?
23a. Maybe if you did all the stuff you just whined about instead of writing a facebook note...
24. Sarah, be nicer to yourself. You're not lazy. That's the last thing you are. You can get distracted, and you get sidetracked, but you are a hardworker and you know it.
24a. I wish I actually believed the above more. Sigh.
25. Why are some of the most awesome women I know in my life being treated so poorly by others? That's such bullshit.
26. I'm coming to your wedding, Benizzle. Just so you know, I'm not one of those shady ones you were chiding on your fb. :)
27. I should really figure out how I'm getting to chitown--Emily!!!!???? Carpool??? I'll pitch in for gas!
28. I wish I had someone to kiss me.
28a. Not *anyone* though, just so we're clear. I'm rather picky.
29. Is it terrible that although I know the honduras coup was bad, after reading that in the NY times, there was a part of me that thought... "Wow, well done. That's kind of impressive."
30. Is this what the rest of my adult life will be? Putzing around, wishing I was doing more?
30a. Sarah, you do a lot, it's just summer and you feel strange and restless because you don't have a job, class, and you just graduated from college. And right now, you're not feeling too inspired to write poetry, so this is you getting your creative instincts out. Writing is writing, lady.
31. I know, Rational Sarah. It's just that...
31a. ...I don't want to amount to an almost something. Like Anne Frank said, "I want to be remarkable."
And I do.
Goodnight.
It was a really good weekend, though a little bittersweet. My world just feels so strange these days. Changes, changes, changes. Life is such a whirlwind of new and old and hello and farewell. I half expect to wake up in Oz one of these days wearing ruby slippers and skipping down a strange road with oddly featured friends.
Anyway.
Current thoughts: I'm not a great cook, but what I make, I make well. I made pesto pasta for the second time tonight, and damn, it was good. My family agreed. Also, I know it's my OCD, but I'm feeling less than satisfied with my physical shape right now, which I *realize* is stupid and irrational, but it's how I feel. So, I'm going to start working out soon. Scratch "soon"-- more like, tomorrow. I just feel flabby. (I also know that 30 min or cardio a day is not only excellent for energy but for overall health, so I'm doing it for those reasons too. Last summer when I was working out a lot, I felt fantastic. Currently, I feel like a lazy blob, so I'm seeking to fix this.) I wish I could get over my damn arm thing. It's a comparison thing, really. I feel great about myself until I start going, "Well, they look like this, and they're making a great career off their looks and talent as an actor, so if I want to do the same..." It's silly, but it's a mixture of my obsessive compulsive disorder (unwanted thought syndrome--as we all know Sarah thinks WAY too much, right Doug? This blog is proof. Hell, it's beyond proof.) and media pressures and pressures that go hand in hand with the profession I'm in. Also, it sucks because whenever I watch Buffy 7th season now (smgellar lost a ton of weight over the seasons--actually, i think she looks super scary in 7th season, like someone feed her a cracker, please, but regardless, my ocd tends to win occasionally with-->), I can't stop looking at all the characters arms, thinking, "mine aren't as toned as that, mine are flabbier than that--shit, I'll *never* get a tv job!" (I prefer stage, but I've always REALLY wanted to be on Law and Order or something like The Office or Buffy or Weeds.) Again with the I know it's not rational, but clearly a part of me thinks it is, or it wouldn't be so damn convincing. Blech. People are dying in airplane crashes, or in their own home (re: Michael J) and coups are happening in Honduras and I'm complaining about imaginary flabby arms. Perspective, Sarah?
Other thoughts.
1. Lonely. My friends feel so far from me--I have so many, but they're spread all around the globe like globular jelly. I want all the bits and gooey pieces of strawberry in one spot on my bread, please.
2. I'm getting tan! Well, tan for me. I'm excited.
3. I still don't have a fucking job in blono. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck. Baxter's grill decided to go with "no."
4. See three.
5. With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.
6. However, I do not feel laid back.
7. I have to stop buying itunes, and that's going to suck.
8. I have a lot of paper work to do for NZ still. And packing!
9. It was good talking to you. I'm glad I chose to, you know, not pretend we were strangers. If you ever read this--thanks for indulging me. It was a nice way to leave it. Merci beacoup.
10. Bye, One World and One World Crew. I'll miss you and love you all more than you know. Well, I don't love two jerky guys, but everyone else.
10a. I hope Michell's daughter's okay.
11. Today I saw a "Party Trolly" in Peoria. What!?
12. I really need to publish my poetry. I feel like such a slacker right now, it's depressing. I know I just need to do it, but for some reason, my go getterness seems to only come in spurts. I act when it counts, but I put off stuff at the same time. What the hell? (It's probably linked to your ADHD, dear.) And what about that memoir I'm writing? And those plays? Hey, Sarah, you ever going to write another play? Get cracking! Come on! (Ahh!)
13. MY ROOM. AH. SOMEONE COME OVER AND HELP ME before the boxes breed. Oh wait, the only friend that would actually enjoy that... is in Peoria. (looking at you Kyla. Miss you. A lot, in fact).
14. Seeing Shakespeare with Dad on Wednesday! Yay! But I'm nervous it'll make me really miss theatre (not a bad thing by itself, but --->) and then feel bad for not jumping right into career mode and choosing NZ instead of going to Chicago right away. Just because I know NZ is right for me doesn't mean there aren't oodles of doubt and fear. Thinker, remember?
15. I need to find monologues. "I need to accomplish and be perfect at everything!" Gah!
16. That guy better stay the fuck away from my friends, or I'm calling the cops on him. I mean it. Call my bluff, asshole.
17. Why won't anyone hire me? I'm awesome. ("'Cuz it's the middle of the summer, Sarah." "Shut up, rational self.")
18. I hope I poop soon. Too much bread today. Frick.
19. I need to write my to do list. It's long.
20. How much money do I need to spend to prep for NZ? What kind of bag will I need? How expensive are backpacks? How the hell am I going to get my meds over there??
21. I want to do more stand up. I've been doing a steady amount, but I want more. But Trey is moving. :( And that means one more friend to miss a lot (I mean it, Trey) and zero transportation to my gigs. Or at least, zero comedy partner Trey transportation. I'm going to miss us as a team. :(
22. I really need to write more jokes.
23. Why am I so lazy?
23a. Maybe if you did all the stuff you just whined about instead of writing a facebook note...
24. Sarah, be nicer to yourself. You're not lazy. That's the last thing you are. You can get distracted, and you get sidetracked, but you are a hardworker and you know it.
24a. I wish I actually believed the above more. Sigh.
25. Why are some of the most awesome women I know in my life being treated so poorly by others? That's such bullshit.
26. I'm coming to your wedding, Benizzle. Just so you know, I'm not one of those shady ones you were chiding on your fb. :)
27. I should really figure out how I'm getting to chitown--Emily!!!!???? Carpool??? I'll pitch in for gas!
28. I wish I had someone to kiss me.
28a. Not *anyone* though, just so we're clear. I'm rather picky.
29. Is it terrible that although I know the honduras coup was bad, after reading that in the NY times, there was a part of me that thought... "Wow, well done. That's kind of impressive."
30. Is this what the rest of my adult life will be? Putzing around, wishing I was doing more?
30a. Sarah, you do a lot, it's just summer and you feel strange and restless because you don't have a job, class, and you just graduated from college. And right now, you're not feeling too inspired to write poetry, so this is you getting your creative instincts out. Writing is writing, lady.
31. I know, Rational Sarah. It's just that...
31a. ...I don't want to amount to an almost something. Like Anne Frank said, "I want to be remarkable."
And I do.
Goodnight.
Friday, June 26, 2009
I miss being in shows.
Which is actually a relief. I was worried if I took a break from theatre, I'd say, gee this is so nice, I'm never going back!
But I'm starting to think this "break" thing is going to be rough. I'm starting to get that itch.
I'm trying ot keep up the artistic endeavors to fill that gap. Lots of stand up, trying to paint, though it really hasn't happened. Been too busy working and looking for a job. Trying to write, but poetry isn't really flowing at the moment.
I've decided to write that memoir, and I got all excited to write it tonight, but when I sat down to start it, I only got about a page in. I REALLY want to do it, and I think if I put my mind to do it, it could be really effing good. I narrowed the topic down majorly, and I don't think it has to be more than 150/200 pages. Perhaps even 125, you know? But I do this thing where I judge my writing as I write it, because I want to structure it just so.
So yeah. That's pretty much it. I miss theatre, I'm still so full of thoughts and emotions it's a kooky mess, I like the word kooky, I really want to write this memoir, I still need to work out, I still need a job, I'm not terribly unhappy, but boy, I really want to do something worthwhile with my life.
Didn't expect that one, didja? A serious sentence right in the middle of all that blather?
Me neither.
But I'm starting to think this "break" thing is going to be rough. I'm starting to get that itch.
I'm trying ot keep up the artistic endeavors to fill that gap. Lots of stand up, trying to paint, though it really hasn't happened. Been too busy working and looking for a job. Trying to write, but poetry isn't really flowing at the moment.
I've decided to write that memoir, and I got all excited to write it tonight, but when I sat down to start it, I only got about a page in. I REALLY want to do it, and I think if I put my mind to do it, it could be really effing good. I narrowed the topic down majorly, and I don't think it has to be more than 150/200 pages. Perhaps even 125, you know? But I do this thing where I judge my writing as I write it, because I want to structure it just so.
So yeah. That's pretty much it. I miss theatre, I'm still so full of thoughts and emotions it's a kooky mess, I like the word kooky, I really want to write this memoir, I still need to work out, I still need a job, I'm not terribly unhappy, but boy, I really want to do something worthwhile with my life.
Didn't expect that one, didja? A serious sentence right in the middle of all that blather?
Me neither.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
"Over You," Sheryl Crow
I'm a bit depressed this evening.
I had a lot of plans for today, and I can't seem to do any of them. I woke up at 1pm, which is just silly. I wasn't even out that late. Comedy went great last night, and I know I was tired, but come on. I really need to start working out again. I just feel gross and weak and out of sorts. I'm still eating my uber healthy way, but lying around all day--or, okay, driving, walking, and cleaning my room--it isn't cutting it. But I'm fairly certain my motivation is buried somewhere in the boxes still cluttering up my room.
It amazes me that even after graduating school, I can feel stressed and overwhelmed by my to do list. It's not even that long, but it *feels* long. And time, there's never enough of that. Wah, wah wah....
This weekend is my last at One World. I'll miss it. Plus, I'm starting to panic about getting a job in blono. Get this--I'm even considering DETASSLING. How ridiculous is that? What am I, in 8th grade? But I need a job. Big time.
Eh. I just feel crappy today, like I accomplished almost nothing, but that's not really true. I guess I got some stuff done...
Wow, I really *do* feel like crap right now. Not that I was lying earlier, it's just really hitting me now. Good, so, looks like I'm pmsing this weekend. Oooh, that'll be fun.
Well, I know I'm just a barrel of fun, but I should really take this pity party elsewhere.
I had a lot of plans for today, and I can't seem to do any of them. I woke up at 1pm, which is just silly. I wasn't even out that late. Comedy went great last night, and I know I was tired, but come on. I really need to start working out again. I just feel gross and weak and out of sorts. I'm still eating my uber healthy way, but lying around all day--or, okay, driving, walking, and cleaning my room--it isn't cutting it. But I'm fairly certain my motivation is buried somewhere in the boxes still cluttering up my room.
It amazes me that even after graduating school, I can feel stressed and overwhelmed by my to do list. It's not even that long, but it *feels* long. And time, there's never enough of that. Wah, wah wah....
This weekend is my last at One World. I'll miss it. Plus, I'm starting to panic about getting a job in blono. Get this--I'm even considering DETASSLING. How ridiculous is that? What am I, in 8th grade? But I need a job. Big time.
Eh. I just feel crappy today, like I accomplished almost nothing, but that's not really true. I guess I got some stuff done...
Wow, I really *do* feel like crap right now. Not that I was lying earlier, it's just really hitting me now. Good, so, looks like I'm pmsing this weekend. Oooh, that'll be fun.
Well, I know I'm just a barrel of fun, but I should really take this pity party elsewhere.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Memoir
Everytime I read a memoir, I want to write one. I'm currently reading Happens Every Day, by Isabelle Gillisie (a small part actor on Law and Order:SVU) about her marriage falling apart and getting divorced. It sounds a little cliche, and perhaps it is, but it is well written, and I always appreciate that.
I've started memoirs before. I wanted to write one in high school, I wanted to write one Junior year of College, I want to write one now.
Although this probably going to be an instance of me planning and then not following through, I think I've decided to write a memoir called Explaining Myself (because of my long history with therapy, justification, thoughts, and overcommunication with people... seeking affirmation, etc.). And I want it to be about college. I want it to cover the catastrophe that was my first two years of college (and yes, that means personal relationships and departmental shit), my new york trip, and my senior year (including other personal relationships.) Why?
I won't deny it, I want the book to be candid and open about my sexuality and the journey I've taken over the last four years with it. I graduated college without ever having had a girlfriend, and I think there is a real part of me that still sees that as some sort of failure. I also know that the lack of an acutal lesbian community or positive lesbian role models can be a serious problem (one I've honestly dealt with and still continue to deal with) and I want to share the story of a lesbian woman in a blue collar midwestern town and the individuals who helped shape her and who she helped shape. I want to talk about the departmental stuff I went through, and yes, that includes APO stuff--I want to dsicuss dealing with sexual harrassment from the physical therapist I went to at the health center, I want to discuss how One World helped me grow up in ways I can't even identify yet, how much I constantly loathed returning to Peoria, what New York meant to me, why The Oresteia was so debilitating, my decision to go to New Zealand, j-term--london, march 2009--and the months preceeding and following, christmas break when I felt called to the ministry, then researching magic in London on a whim, petty stupid drama, graduating and all the emotional trappings, stand up, etc.
I want to talk about my experience with the quote unquote "best four years of your life," and hopefully reach other individuals who didn't/don't love college, and who are looking for positive or even "normal" lesbian role models in a world of negative stereotypes and constant extremes.
I don't know if it'll happen, but I want to try. So, send me positive thoughts of stamina, because I usually start things and then shrug them off. But I think this could be a very therapeutic thing to do this summer, especially paired with seeing my therapist again once a week.
Plus, I really like the title. ;)
I've started memoirs before. I wanted to write one in high school, I wanted to write one Junior year of College, I want to write one now.
Although this probably going to be an instance of me planning and then not following through, I think I've decided to write a memoir called Explaining Myself (because of my long history with therapy, justification, thoughts, and overcommunication with people... seeking affirmation, etc.). And I want it to be about college. I want it to cover the catastrophe that was my first two years of college (and yes, that means personal relationships and departmental shit), my new york trip, and my senior year (including other personal relationships.) Why?
I won't deny it, I want the book to be candid and open about my sexuality and the journey I've taken over the last four years with it. I graduated college without ever having had a girlfriend, and I think there is a real part of me that still sees that as some sort of failure. I also know that the lack of an acutal lesbian community or positive lesbian role models can be a serious problem (one I've honestly dealt with and still continue to deal with) and I want to share the story of a lesbian woman in a blue collar midwestern town and the individuals who helped shape her and who she helped shape. I want to talk about the departmental stuff I went through, and yes, that includes APO stuff--I want to dsicuss dealing with sexual harrassment from the physical therapist I went to at the health center, I want to discuss how One World helped me grow up in ways I can't even identify yet, how much I constantly loathed returning to Peoria, what New York meant to me, why The Oresteia was so debilitating, my decision to go to New Zealand, j-term--london, march 2009--and the months preceeding and following, christmas break when I felt called to the ministry, then researching magic in London on a whim, petty stupid drama, graduating and all the emotional trappings, stand up, etc.
I want to talk about my experience with the quote unquote "best four years of your life," and hopefully reach other individuals who didn't/don't love college, and who are looking for positive or even "normal" lesbian role models in a world of negative stereotypes and constant extremes.
I don't know if it'll happen, but I want to try. So, send me positive thoughts of stamina, because I usually start things and then shrug them off. But I think this could be a very therapeutic thing to do this summer, especially paired with seeing my therapist again once a week.
Plus, I really like the title. ;)
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
the saga of the tye dye dress
my boobs are too small for this dress.
Oh well, who doesn't want to see a little nipple at a wedding, right?
Oh well, who doesn't want to see a little nipple at a wedding, right?
Hmmm...
Okay, scratch that last part. NEXT weekend is my last weekend at work. Hah--well, that is my official two weeks, so it's not a problem, it's just funny. C'est la vie...
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Mushaboom Mushaboom
My eating habits suck.
They're healthy in content, but not in schedule or quantity.
It's a really irksome connundrum.
I'm not a shopper--I'm really not. But today, I went a little retail therapy crazy. I bought these awesome beaded earrings as well as small hoops--Kyla and I are thinking of getting other piercings in our ears and I want to have hoops ready for that--plus a super awesome tye-dye dress I'm going to wear to pretty much EVERY wedding I'm attending this summer, plus an incredible beaded necklace with three necklaces in one--matches the dress! Plus software and paper for making my own business cards. I'm growing tired of writing down my number. I might as well be a grown up and have a card that says actor, writer (freelance, poetry, drama, prose) and comedian (improv, stand-up.) With a picture, hopefully. I feel so adult. It's disconcerting.
The stand-up stuff is actually going incredibly well. I'm saying this in all unbiased sincerity. I feel like I just have a knack for this, which is awesome because that means that for the last two years I've been secretly thinking I'd be good at this but didn't want to be a narcissist--it means I was right! I still may be egocentric, but at least I'm accurate :) Thursday night in Champaign was just incredible. I was completely and utterly "on." It was the best performance of mine hands down, and I got so much great feedback--not just from other comics, but audience members and even some stand-up "industry people" if you will--I mean, it's central Illinois, it's not chi-town, but still. I think I'm going to get some gigs out of the people I met there. As one person said, "We'd really like you to perform for us. We don't have a lot of young people... or really, a lot of funny people, either." So... yay me! Plus, Trey and I had a rockin' awesome time in Champaign. Champaign is a pretty fucking awesome city, I must say.
This weekend will be my last weekend living and working in Peoria, and I cannot lie, this makes me very sad. Although I never (and still really don't) liked/like Peoria, I have a lot of love and friendships and loyalty that center around working at One World, and I am going to miss it on many levels. I know that the odds I will stay in touch with the majority of my colleagues are small simply because of the way life's revolving door works, but it makes my heart hurt regardless. I really do care about all of them, and I hope they know I wish them lives full of joy and discovery. I know that leaving this weekend will be hard for many, many reasons.
However, on the up side, I had a job interview today--and I think it went damn well! The manager there told me I seem like a perfect fit and that she would like to invite me on the team---but they've got 4 or 5 previous employees who may come back for the summer, and they need to wait till next friday to see who all is coming back and whether or not they'll have a slot. I think the odds are good (or at least I hope they are) that there will be a slot open. I really liked this place--it was really mod and fancy looking. Not quite as gloriously eccentric and artsy as my beloved One World, but it had class. And the manager was so kind, I have a feeling she's pretty awesome to work with. I just really really really want a server job, and this place looks pretty rockin'. Anyway. Keep your fingers crossed for me!
Alright, well I need to either shower now, or call Asha--but either way I have a lot of shaving and plucking and nail painting to do in order to beautify myself for the wedding tomorrow. But I am actually very, very excited about my outfit for the wedding. See, I can be stereotypically "girly." ;)
Love and joy and carrot sticks,
Sarah D
They're healthy in content, but not in schedule or quantity.
It's a really irksome connundrum.
I'm not a shopper--I'm really not. But today, I went a little retail therapy crazy. I bought these awesome beaded earrings as well as small hoops--Kyla and I are thinking of getting other piercings in our ears and I want to have hoops ready for that--plus a super awesome tye-dye dress I'm going to wear to pretty much EVERY wedding I'm attending this summer, plus an incredible beaded necklace with three necklaces in one--matches the dress! Plus software and paper for making my own business cards. I'm growing tired of writing down my number. I might as well be a grown up and have a card that says actor, writer (freelance, poetry, drama, prose) and comedian (improv, stand-up.) With a picture, hopefully. I feel so adult. It's disconcerting.
The stand-up stuff is actually going incredibly well. I'm saying this in all unbiased sincerity. I feel like I just have a knack for this, which is awesome because that means that for the last two years I've been secretly thinking I'd be good at this but didn't want to be a narcissist--it means I was right! I still may be egocentric, but at least I'm accurate :) Thursday night in Champaign was just incredible. I was completely and utterly "on." It was the best performance of mine hands down, and I got so much great feedback--not just from other comics, but audience members and even some stand-up "industry people" if you will--I mean, it's central Illinois, it's not chi-town, but still. I think I'm going to get some gigs out of the people I met there. As one person said, "We'd really like you to perform for us. We don't have a lot of young people... or really, a lot of funny people, either." So... yay me! Plus, Trey and I had a rockin' awesome time in Champaign. Champaign is a pretty fucking awesome city, I must say.
This weekend will be my last weekend living and working in Peoria, and I cannot lie, this makes me very sad. Although I never (and still really don't) liked/like Peoria, I have a lot of love and friendships and loyalty that center around working at One World, and I am going to miss it on many levels. I know that the odds I will stay in touch with the majority of my colleagues are small simply because of the way life's revolving door works, but it makes my heart hurt regardless. I really do care about all of them, and I hope they know I wish them lives full of joy and discovery. I know that leaving this weekend will be hard for many, many reasons.
However, on the up side, I had a job interview today--and I think it went damn well! The manager there told me I seem like a perfect fit and that she would like to invite me on the team---but they've got 4 or 5 previous employees who may come back for the summer, and they need to wait till next friday to see who all is coming back and whether or not they'll have a slot. I think the odds are good (or at least I hope they are) that there will be a slot open. I really liked this place--it was really mod and fancy looking. Not quite as gloriously eccentric and artsy as my beloved One World, but it had class. And the manager was so kind, I have a feeling she's pretty awesome to work with. I just really really really want a server job, and this place looks pretty rockin'. Anyway. Keep your fingers crossed for me!
Alright, well I need to either shower now, or call Asha--but either way I have a lot of shaving and plucking and nail painting to do in order to beautify myself for the wedding tomorrow. But I am actually very, very excited about my outfit for the wedding. See, I can be stereotypically "girly." ;)
Love and joy and carrot sticks,
Sarah D
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Two elementary school kids have hung themselves due to anti-gay bullying
http://www.truthout.org/060309EDA
Along with the above article, I also watched Milk today.
Sometimes, it's hard to be reminded that you're different. It's not often I remember that although I've been very lucky, I could easily and probably will encounter the kind of hatred these individuals did.
My heart aches for those people I know who have struggled to come out, or to tell their families, or even their friends. It gets so easy for me or even others to simply say, "well just be honest about it! What's the big deal?" The big deal is those two young boys who killed themselves because of anti-gay bullying. The big deal is Harvey Milk being shot for being a gay man in public office.
Still, like Harvey Milk pointed out, the revolution is in the revealing of who we are and how many of us are in this world--the very world we have every right to be in.
And the revolution, even without him and other leaders in the gay movement, is still now. Everytime I come out to someone and they not only realize I am someone they know and interact with but that I am a likable, functional, regular human being... that's progress in small, but effective ways.
My heart breaks for these two boys, now past, and the families mourning them.
But we'll keep fighting; it's not about winning. It's about visibility and voice. As silly as it sounds, the old "we're here, we're queer, get used to it" is pretty on point.
We're here. I'm here. You're here. Here here!
Along with the above article, I also watched Milk today.
Sometimes, it's hard to be reminded that you're different. It's not often I remember that although I've been very lucky, I could easily and probably will encounter the kind of hatred these individuals did.
My heart aches for those people I know who have struggled to come out, or to tell their families, or even their friends. It gets so easy for me or even others to simply say, "well just be honest about it! What's the big deal?" The big deal is those two young boys who killed themselves because of anti-gay bullying. The big deal is Harvey Milk being shot for being a gay man in public office.
Still, like Harvey Milk pointed out, the revolution is in the revealing of who we are and how many of us are in this world--the very world we have every right to be in.
And the revolution, even without him and other leaders in the gay movement, is still now. Everytime I come out to someone and they not only realize I am someone they know and interact with but that I am a likable, functional, regular human being... that's progress in small, but effective ways.
My heart breaks for these two boys, now past, and the families mourning them.
But we'll keep fighting; it's not about winning. It's about visibility and voice. As silly as it sounds, the old "we're here, we're queer, get used to it" is pretty on point.
We're here. I'm here. You're here. Here here!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I'm Starting to Feel Like a Person Again
which is, you know, a plus. For a bit there I was feeling a little picassoed. New word! New word! Instead of abstract... Picassoed! Well I think it is exciting.
I'm currently at the Coffeehouse in DOWNTOWN (any normalites will know why I put that in caps--"uptown" my ass) Normal, eating their vegan "coffeehouse hash." It's actually rather scrumptious. I love this place. It's so quaint, but in every good aspect. Not quaint like ignorant and negatively homespun... oh my. I think I just ate a rotten piece of watermelon. Well, phooey, Coffeehouse. (That's not in my hash, it's in my fruit cup.) Also, they're apparently *not* hiring, so my dreams of working at both the coolest place in Peoria and the coolest place in Normal have been violently dashed. On the upside, I'm serving at One World now, which has proven to be rather fulfilling, exhausting, and exciting. Hopefully it will also prove to be lucrative. I have a feeling there will definitely be days when I hate it, and I'm starting to fully understand how hard it is to NOT feel personally affronted when people either leave poor tips or stiff you COMPLETELY. For instance.
(Disclaimer: this is hardly a server horror story, it's benign. But it was my first head-on collision with bitter resentment and insult, so I'm sharing it.)
Three rather snooty girls came in, and they sat in my section. I was still in training, but they needed another server that day, so they just put me on as a server... cool, right? It was the small bar section (one worldians will understand) so it wasn't terribly stressful... and it was a Sunday night, so, I handled everything pretty damn well, I feel. It was slow. We'll see how I do this weekend when it's, you know, not. ANYWAY.
These three girls came in, and yes, it was my first table by myself, but I didn't do anything wrong. Really--I was friendly but not overbearing, their food came out on time, I got their drinks out etc, etc, etc. Two out of three girls tipped me 2 dollars each on their 17 dollar meals (that's not really that bad, not great, but whatever, I didn't care about that) but the other girl completely STIFFED me on a 23 dollar bill. What? What I hate the most is when people draw a line in the tip section on the bill, as if to say "Don't even think about it." Which of course, makes me do just that. You find yourself racking your brain, trying to discover what you could possibly have messed up, when in fact, you know (as does everyone else who works in food service) that it 99% chance was not you, and was in fact, her being a snotty cheap ass yuppie with too many facial piercings. (I'm all for piercings, but it didn't fit her look. And picking on her makes me feel better about myself, of course.)
So, the above PLUS the fact that Friday night I had an actual "server nightmare" where I couldn't seem to handle anything, my section was GINORMOUS, and all I could do was get drinks and even that didn't really happen (it was sort of funny. I couldn't even put the orders in for food. I kept mixing up my little pads of paper in my book, and people got really really angry with me. So at one point, I made all of my tables stand together near the back wall and I made an announcement to all of them. I said "LISTEN UP. I'm. In. TRAINING. That means I'M GOING TO SUCK." And that helped a little bit.) so when I woke up I thought... huh.
I think I'm officially initiated into being a server now. Being stiffed + a server nightmare (oh yeah I almost forgot!) + a lady who I SWEAR was on valium or something telling me how awesome I was in really slow druggie sounding speech.
So I'm back home. This is actually the FIRST summer I've lived at home entirelyl since... um, 7th grade. And I can't lie, I'm weirded. Picassoed. Topsy tipsy turvy. Not tipsy tipsy. I'm sober. Topsy sober turvy... eh, forget it.
It's good to be home for many reasons, but I feel like an air balloon just dropped me off dead center memory lane--but this memory lane is rather dark and cobwebby--it just feels like forever since I've even thought about this or that memory, this or that belonging, picture, etc. It's jolting. And it's a little lonely... but I'm not afraid to be lonely. I actually think that's my problem.
Am I some sort of anti-social freak? Don't answer that. I don't know if I actually want to answer it myself. I think I idealize solitude, singleness, the go it alone mentality. I always identify with those neurotic career driven women in television shows who are too busy and too used to isolation to let anyone in romantically, and then of course by the end of such and such they've fallen for so and so and ta dah! But I usually like them when they're edgy and lonely and sort of in love with their own bitterness.
Maybe that's it. Maybe I sort of love being jaded and bitter in a really twisted way. That's probably at least partially true. I guess I'm just trying to figure out why I graduated college without ever having a sustained functional romantic relationship. I know, I know, it's "peoria." I get that.
But maybe it's... me.
These are the thoughts...
On a brighter note. I biked today. I biked to the coffeehouse. And I am here to tell you THAT I AM OUT OF SHAPE. I was huffing and puffing like hurrican katrina. (too soon? I'm terrible.) But really, I looked ridiculous. Also, I wore a skirt because apparently I thought that was an appropriate thing to wear while biking.
It's not.
So that's was amusing. I also hit a curb at one point and a part of the handlebars jabbed my abdominen. Good thing I never actually wanted to have children.
Well this is getting kind of long. People don't read these anyway... Benassi, how do you get so many readers? Besides being amazing, I mean.
I remember my Xanga days, I was queen of the comments... okay, getting pathetic and embarrassing myself. Gotta go.
I'm currently at the Coffeehouse in DOWNTOWN (any normalites will know why I put that in caps--"uptown" my ass) Normal, eating their vegan "coffeehouse hash." It's actually rather scrumptious. I love this place. It's so quaint, but in every good aspect. Not quaint like ignorant and negatively homespun... oh my. I think I just ate a rotten piece of watermelon. Well, phooey, Coffeehouse. (That's not in my hash, it's in my fruit cup.) Also, they're apparently *not* hiring, so my dreams of working at both the coolest place in Peoria and the coolest place in Normal have been violently dashed. On the upside, I'm serving at One World now, which has proven to be rather fulfilling, exhausting, and exciting. Hopefully it will also prove to be lucrative. I have a feeling there will definitely be days when I hate it, and I'm starting to fully understand how hard it is to NOT feel personally affronted when people either leave poor tips or stiff you COMPLETELY. For instance.
(Disclaimer: this is hardly a server horror story, it's benign. But it was my first head-on collision with bitter resentment and insult, so I'm sharing it.)
Three rather snooty girls came in, and they sat in my section. I was still in training, but they needed another server that day, so they just put me on as a server... cool, right? It was the small bar section (one worldians will understand) so it wasn't terribly stressful... and it was a Sunday night, so, I handled everything pretty damn well, I feel. It was slow. We'll see how I do this weekend when it's, you know, not. ANYWAY.
These three girls came in, and yes, it was my first table by myself, but I didn't do anything wrong. Really--I was friendly but not overbearing, their food came out on time, I got their drinks out etc, etc, etc. Two out of three girls tipped me 2 dollars each on their 17 dollar meals (that's not really that bad, not great, but whatever, I didn't care about that) but the other girl completely STIFFED me on a 23 dollar bill. What? What I hate the most is when people draw a line in the tip section on the bill, as if to say "Don't even think about it." Which of course, makes me do just that. You find yourself racking your brain, trying to discover what you could possibly have messed up, when in fact, you know (as does everyone else who works in food service) that it 99% chance was not you, and was in fact, her being a snotty cheap ass yuppie with too many facial piercings. (I'm all for piercings, but it didn't fit her look. And picking on her makes me feel better about myself, of course.)
So, the above PLUS the fact that Friday night I had an actual "server nightmare" where I couldn't seem to handle anything, my section was GINORMOUS, and all I could do was get drinks and even that didn't really happen (it was sort of funny. I couldn't even put the orders in for food. I kept mixing up my little pads of paper in my book, and people got really really angry with me. So at one point, I made all of my tables stand together near the back wall and I made an announcement to all of them. I said "LISTEN UP. I'm. In. TRAINING. That means I'M GOING TO SUCK." And that helped a little bit.) so when I woke up I thought... huh.
I think I'm officially initiated into being a server now. Being stiffed + a server nightmare (oh yeah I almost forgot!) + a lady who I SWEAR was on valium or something telling me how awesome I was in really slow druggie sounding speech.
So I'm back home. This is actually the FIRST summer I've lived at home entirelyl since... um, 7th grade. And I can't lie, I'm weirded. Picassoed. Topsy tipsy turvy. Not tipsy tipsy. I'm sober. Topsy sober turvy... eh, forget it.
It's good to be home for many reasons, but I feel like an air balloon just dropped me off dead center memory lane--but this memory lane is rather dark and cobwebby--it just feels like forever since I've even thought about this or that memory, this or that belonging, picture, etc. It's jolting. And it's a little lonely... but I'm not afraid to be lonely. I actually think that's my problem.
Am I some sort of anti-social freak? Don't answer that. I don't know if I actually want to answer it myself. I think I idealize solitude, singleness, the go it alone mentality. I always identify with those neurotic career driven women in television shows who are too busy and too used to isolation to let anyone in romantically, and then of course by the end of such and such they've fallen for so and so and ta dah! But I usually like them when they're edgy and lonely and sort of in love with their own bitterness.
Maybe that's it. Maybe I sort of love being jaded and bitter in a really twisted way. That's probably at least partially true. I guess I'm just trying to figure out why I graduated college without ever having a sustained functional romantic relationship. I know, I know, it's "peoria." I get that.
But maybe it's... me.
These are the thoughts...
On a brighter note. I biked today. I biked to the coffeehouse. And I am here to tell you THAT I AM OUT OF SHAPE. I was huffing and puffing like hurrican katrina. (too soon? I'm terrible.) But really, I looked ridiculous. Also, I wore a skirt because apparently I thought that was an appropriate thing to wear while biking.
It's not.
So that's was amusing. I also hit a curb at one point and a part of the handlebars jabbed my abdominen. Good thing I never actually wanted to have children.
Well this is getting kind of long. People don't read these anyway... Benassi, how do you get so many readers? Besides being amazing, I mean.
I remember my Xanga days, I was queen of the comments... okay, getting pathetic and embarrassing myself. Gotta go.
Monday, May 25, 2009
On the Paradox of Sleep
When I don't get enough sleep, or too much sleep, I feel like crap. I become increasingly negative about myself, my life, and those around me. I feel heavy, self-conscious, and cranky. I feel unhealthy, and make unhealthy food choices and then feel guilty about them. I get zero accomplished, and I feel guilty about that, too. I usually get a headache, feel sluggish, and am much more likely to cry or have any form of breakdown or emotional outburst. I get sullen and quite. And I usually stay up much too late repeatedly, instead of going to sleep early and breaking the cycle.
I am currently experiencing the above.
I am currently experiencing the above.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Packing
would be a whole lot easier if I had less belongings. I know! Maybe I should have a... sale!
Oh wait.
My sale was very successful, but as far as "getting rid of everything"? Nope. I've still got a good chunk of things de every.
There was a guy who drove by the day of the sale (of the beer drinking buddy high fiving most likely frat boy --sorry--variety) who hollered, "Everything must go, eh? I'll give you... 100 bucks for the lot of it!" as his homeboys snickered in the seat next to him. Thinking back, I should have taken him up on that. It's not my problem he would have been stuck with a bunch of old (albeit awesome!) stuffed animals, paper back books written for a female audience, a bubble machine, some hippie clothes, Nearly A bras and women's size 6 shoes. Yep. I have small feet. And you know what that means. I have a small penis. Sigh.
I bet big truck guy could fit those shoes though, if you get my drift. I mean, come on, big truck? Overcompensate much? Not an original joke, but still, chuckle worthy. If you're confused, date a guy with a big SUV, you'll see...
Why am I talking about penises?
They are my least favorite thing, and I have no experience in that field, knock (oh brother) wood.
This entry has taken a bizarre turn.
Mom and Dad, don't read this one.
Oh wait.
My sale was very successful, but as far as "getting rid of everything"? Nope. I've still got a good chunk of things de every.
There was a guy who drove by the day of the sale (of the beer drinking buddy high fiving most likely frat boy --sorry--variety) who hollered, "Everything must go, eh? I'll give you... 100 bucks for the lot of it!" as his homeboys snickered in the seat next to him. Thinking back, I should have taken him up on that. It's not my problem he would have been stuck with a bunch of old (albeit awesome!) stuffed animals, paper back books written for a female audience, a bubble machine, some hippie clothes, Nearly A bras and women's size 6 shoes. Yep. I have small feet. And you know what that means. I have a small penis. Sigh.
I bet big truck guy could fit those shoes though, if you get my drift. I mean, come on, big truck? Overcompensate much? Not an original joke, but still, chuckle worthy. If you're confused, date a guy with a big SUV, you'll see...
Why am I talking about penises?
They are my least favorite thing, and I have no experience in that field, knock (oh brother) wood.
This entry has taken a bizarre turn.
Mom and Dad, don't read this one.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
love love love
way up north i took my day
all in all was a pretty nice day
and i put the hood
right back where
you could taste heaven
perfectly
feel out the summer breeze
didn't know when we'd be back
and i, i don't
didn't think
we'd end up like
like this
--tori amos
***
all in all,it was a pretty nice day. great friends, great food, great family... it was a lonely day because of the sort of afterthought quality of my birthday... but those who cared, cared :) and also, I was trained as a server, and it went very well, if I do say so myself. So ta-dah!
I spent my first day as a 22 year old with people I cared about and then learned how to make more money.
And I ended it laying on Elizabeth's floor giggling like two nine year olds about everything and anything.
It's good to know that when and where it counts, I'll never grow up.
Night.
all in all was a pretty nice day
and i put the hood
right back where
you could taste heaven
perfectly
feel out the summer breeze
didn't know when we'd be back
and i, i don't
didn't think
we'd end up like
like this
--tori amos
***
all in all,it was a pretty nice day. great friends, great food, great family... it was a lonely day because of the sort of afterthought quality of my birthday... but those who cared, cared :) and also, I was trained as a server, and it went very well, if I do say so myself. So ta-dah!
I spent my first day as a 22 year old with people I cared about and then learned how to make more money.
And I ended it laying on Elizabeth's floor giggling like two nine year olds about everything and anything.
It's good to know that when and where it counts, I'll never grow up.
Night.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
How To: My To Do List for Now and Next Week
- Clean House
- Pack
- Finish Sixth Season
- Finish 2nd and 3rd season of Buffy w/ Kyla
- Freeze that turkey. Steel resolve. Ready go.
- Get a job in Bloomington.
- Clean my festering kitchen.
- Actively avoid feeling sad about graduation by investing sadness in something much more trivial. Or at least, tell yourself it's trivial.
- Fail at the last part of the above. Succeed at the first half.
- Feel like a moron for not being able to control your feelings.
- Miss Asha and Ben and not be able to process it, so ignore those feelings for now.
- Attempt to rent the movie "Waiting."
- Fail at the above.
- Return wedding invitations. Muse about the idea of love and relationships and how deep down you really think you won't end up with someone for long term.
- Wonder what that says about you.
- Look for that car every time you walk down main street.
- Berate yourself for the above.
- Attempt to stop yourself.
- Fail.
- Miss your teachers, but not really? Feel guilty about ambiguity.
- Listen to Barenaked Ladies "Break Your Heart," "The Old Apartment" and "I Can I Will I Do" and a bunch of Ani Difranco and The Weepies. Also, that one song by Bjork.
- Write overly obvious cryptic blog posts.
- Remind yourself at least you have an interesting life, which is a plus. Secretly fear becoming a townie somewhere and *not* having an interesting life.
- Remember that you're scared shitless of dying young, and briefly get anxious when this thought crosses your path.
- Remind yourself that 99% of what you worry about never happens.
- Purposefully worry about dying young in order to employ the above logic.
- Wonder if you'll ever be a sensation, or a legend, or part of history. Feel pangs about the possibility "no." Feel shame for caring about fame.
- Regret never "going to the circus" with Ben.
- Feel the urge to punch his ex in the face.
- Wonder about theatre.
- Think about New Zealand.
- Think you're crazy.
- Be secretly proud of yourself for being so awesome and gutsy. Smirk to yourself, thinking how cool and nuts and quirky you are. Then laugh, tell yourself out loud in your empty house that you're a narcisstic bastard. Feel pleased regardless.
- Wish all of your friends weren't so spread far away.
- Wonder if you really are going to exist in a pattern, unrequited feelings throughout your life, never falling for what's right in front of you but always the unattainable.
- Try and comfort yourself and say, "no, that won't happen, you're just human, you'll find someone."
- Fail at the above.
- Make a lot more of this list and then have your internet crap out and lose all of it.
- Debate rewriting it, including feelings of missing friends, self-confidence, etc, etc.
- Eat some dark chocolate Kyla gave you.
- Decide the list is pretty much done anyway.
- Finish blog.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
I graduated from Bradley University today.
I don't feel much about it. I feel pleased and content, because I've been waiting for graduation for a long time. I feel sort of sad, not about graduation, but about specific water under the proverbial certain bridge. I feel sort of pulled, but that's because I know I should make good use of my time today by packing and the like, even though I'd rather just lay (lie? frick) around all day. Even though I should really fill out job applications and clean my festering kitchen. And I need to sell that desk! That futon! And I feel tired, but that's simply because I just ate a huge meal at flat top grill and now I'm sleepy.
Asha says the graduating seniors before us said it didn't hit them until winter of the following year... so I guess I'll wait till then, and perhaps I'll have more of an appropriate reaction. I will miss a handful of people, yes. And I will miss the lifestyle of college, my friends, my work friends, and my apartment, and Elizabeth, and certain professors and buildings... but the overall feeling I have right now isn't sadness, or nostalgia, or anything in between.
Instead, I just find myself with a big, wide smile on my face, (albeit with sleepy eyes.)
I don't feel much about it. I feel pleased and content, because I've been waiting for graduation for a long time. I feel sort of sad, not about graduation, but about specific water under the proverbial certain bridge. I feel sort of pulled, but that's because I know I should make good use of my time today by packing and the like, even though I'd rather just lay (lie? frick) around all day. Even though I should really fill out job applications and clean my festering kitchen. And I need to sell that desk! That futon! And I feel tired, but that's simply because I just ate a huge meal at flat top grill and now I'm sleepy.
Asha says the graduating seniors before us said it didn't hit them until winter of the following year... so I guess I'll wait till then, and perhaps I'll have more of an appropriate reaction. I will miss a handful of people, yes. And I will miss the lifestyle of college, my friends, my work friends, and my apartment, and Elizabeth, and certain professors and buildings... but the overall feeling I have right now isn't sadness, or nostalgia, or anything in between.
Instead, I just find myself with a big, wide smile on my face, (albeit with sleepy eyes.)
Thursday, May 14, 2009
My First Time... At Stand Up Comedy
I'm sure you are all curious.
I KILLED.
Which means, in "comic slang" that I did incredibly, incredibly well. By the time it was my turn to go, I wasn't even nervous--(the bananas, perhaps?)--I just got on the stage, dealt with the douchebag MC (story later in blog--sorry Trey, I know he's your friend and all, but yikes) and did my set. The audience, though small, really liked it. I felt confident--not nervous at all! How weird is that? And I even thought of a few quips on the spot that went over really well. For instance--my opening line was:
"How many closeted homosexuals do we have in the audience tonight?" And if anyone makes a noise, I simply say "Liar." But before it was time for my set, I had gone to the bathroom and observed some really interesting bathroom stall graffiti--"I Love You" and "My husband has a horse dick." So I started my set saying that I had a secret admirer, because the bathroom stall told me so. And then I mentioned the husband comment, and said: "... centaur?"
It was a small audience, but good--it was great to have both Kyla and Trey there--good job Trey! :) They served RC products there, not coke or pepsi. How 90s, right? I loved it.
So, the MC was a bit of a homophobe. I have a joke or two that elude to me being a lesbian (because I refuse to hide who I am, stand-up comedy is about sharing your life perspective and being yourself honestly, so I'm not going to pretend) and after I finished my set, he told me that I did a nice job and that it's important to find my voice, and that he thinks my voice would be better "with a cock in my mouth."
Yeah.... he also had LOTS of "faggot" jokes in his act, and he also rubbed the mic on his crotch before giving it to me for my set. I have my theories as to why he treated me as he did (involving feeling threatened by a confident funny attractive young lesbian woman) but regardless, I won't be performing there again--sorry Trey! I loved performing and I think you're great, but it's not worth it for me to deal with those kind of remarks. Nope :) Oh well, though. I can't really take ignorance personally--I don't really feel terribly offended, just sort of put-off. And, seriously, other than that blatant homophobia masked in comedy, I felt amazing about my performance, I feel in love with the whole act of stand-up comedy, and I can't wait to do it again. I better go refine my act and create some new material...
I should be competing in a stand-up contest in early June--I'll keep you posted. Because to be honest, since I'm taking some time off of theatre, I'm going to really pursue this. I better look up stand-up clubs in New Zealand! And Bloomington, for that matter.
The next performance I give, you're all invited!
Off to go eat some snacks and watch le Buffy. I really am walking on Cloud Nine--I feel so capable right now. The feeling of making people laugh drowns out ALL other emotions and cancels out the slander I encountered entirely.
A toast to Stand-Up and my new journey!
I KILLED.
Which means, in "comic slang" that I did incredibly, incredibly well. By the time it was my turn to go, I wasn't even nervous--(the bananas, perhaps?)--I just got on the stage, dealt with the douchebag MC (story later in blog--sorry Trey, I know he's your friend and all, but yikes) and did my set. The audience, though small, really liked it. I felt confident--not nervous at all! How weird is that? And I even thought of a few quips on the spot that went over really well. For instance--my opening line was:
"How many closeted homosexuals do we have in the audience tonight?" And if anyone makes a noise, I simply say "Liar." But before it was time for my set, I had gone to the bathroom and observed some really interesting bathroom stall graffiti--"I Love You" and "My husband has a horse dick." So I started my set saying that I had a secret admirer, because the bathroom stall told me so. And then I mentioned the husband comment, and said: "... centaur?"
It was a small audience, but good--it was great to have both Kyla and Trey there--good job Trey! :) They served RC products there, not coke or pepsi. How 90s, right? I loved it.
So, the MC was a bit of a homophobe. I have a joke or two that elude to me being a lesbian (because I refuse to hide who I am, stand-up comedy is about sharing your life perspective and being yourself honestly, so I'm not going to pretend) and after I finished my set, he told me that I did a nice job and that it's important to find my voice, and that he thinks my voice would be better "with a cock in my mouth."
Yeah.... he also had LOTS of "faggot" jokes in his act, and he also rubbed the mic on his crotch before giving it to me for my set. I have my theories as to why he treated me as he did (involving feeling threatened by a confident funny attractive young lesbian woman) but regardless, I won't be performing there again--sorry Trey! I loved performing and I think you're great, but it's not worth it for me to deal with those kind of remarks. Nope :) Oh well, though. I can't really take ignorance personally--I don't really feel terribly offended, just sort of put-off. And, seriously, other than that blatant homophobia masked in comedy, I felt amazing about my performance, I feel in love with the whole act of stand-up comedy, and I can't wait to do it again. I better go refine my act and create some new material...
I should be competing in a stand-up contest in early June--I'll keep you posted. Because to be honest, since I'm taking some time off of theatre, I'm going to really pursue this. I better look up stand-up clubs in New Zealand! And Bloomington, for that matter.
The next performance I give, you're all invited!
Off to go eat some snacks and watch le Buffy. I really am walking on Cloud Nine--I feel so capable right now. The feeling of making people laugh drowns out ALL other emotions and cancels out the slander I encountered entirely.
A toast to Stand-Up and my new journey!
Tonight
So I really am doing this.
The stand-up comedy thing.
Tonight. Last thursday didn't work because I had a monstrous paper due. But tonight... I have a ride, I have my trusty friend who said she'd still be proud of me even if I ran screaming from the stage, and I have... me.
I'm not really nervous yet.
I think I will be, though, very soon.
I also need to practice.
When?
Pretty much now.
The stand-up comedy thing.
Tonight. Last thursday didn't work because I had a monstrous paper due. But tonight... I have a ride, I have my trusty friend who said she'd still be proud of me even if I ran screaming from the stage, and I have... me.
I'm not really nervous yet.
I think I will be, though, very soon.
I also need to practice.
When?
Pretty much now.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
...
A few thoughts before bed...
Star Trek was okay. It wasn't that great. Perhaps I need to be a Star Trek fan to appreciate it. It was just a bunch of guys and the token female on a starship. Live long and prosper, whoop-dee-doo.
Sometimes, I wake up in the morning and I look in the mirror and I think "I'm the bees knees." And other times, like today, I go to bed thinking I'm a fool who keeps putting her foot in her mouth and is flakier, more insensitive, more impulsive, more catty and needy and juvenile than I like to think.
Also, sometimes I wonder if we, as human beings, don't simply exist just to hurt each other. I include myself in this--because today I hurt some people I cared about purely by selfish accident. Is it just one big cycle? Someone hurt, someone spared, someone made to feel special, and the day begins over again? Is it just a matter of avoiding being the one hurt? Is that why so many people lash out--make sure they're the one spared by default? I'm guilty of this too. What a complicated and sort of unstoppable cycle. It makes my head want to explode.
I hate not being able to be perfect. To analyze what's right and make the wrong decisions and judgements anyway. Perhaps I'm seeing things too much in black and white. I should put my life on the gray scale. It is, after all, the braver thing to do.
I never mean to be a jerk, but it's humbling and depressing when I realize that I can and do in fact, hurt other people despite my best efforts.
In short, today was a low self-esteem day. I just felt so lackluster--sub par, incapable, naive and small, apologetic and angry, self-centered and cruel and dismissive... so utterly human.
I need to brush my teeth.
I could also use a good cry.
A friend of mine brought up today that perhaps we focus on our relationships with others as a way to block out the rest of our problems--this makes sense. Even when I'm single (which is always) I'm always harboring feelings for some unlucky (sorry, low-self-esteem day seeping out) individual.
It reminds me of Eve Ensler's quote--Freedom is scary; Pain is familiar.
But how does one go about putting that sentiment in practice?
Perhaps leaving behind everything and everyone I know when I leave for NZ in September. That's freedom, right? And that sure is scary.
Sometimes I actually think it's easier to be alone, and other times I think it's the opposite.
Nothing is simple. What an original thought, Sarah D.
I'm done.
Hopefully I'll feel better tomorrow.
Star Trek was okay. It wasn't that great. Perhaps I need to be a Star Trek fan to appreciate it. It was just a bunch of guys and the token female on a starship. Live long and prosper, whoop-dee-doo.
Sometimes, I wake up in the morning and I look in the mirror and I think "I'm the bees knees." And other times, like today, I go to bed thinking I'm a fool who keeps putting her foot in her mouth and is flakier, more insensitive, more impulsive, more catty and needy and juvenile than I like to think.
Also, sometimes I wonder if we, as human beings, don't simply exist just to hurt each other. I include myself in this--because today I hurt some people I cared about purely by selfish accident. Is it just one big cycle? Someone hurt, someone spared, someone made to feel special, and the day begins over again? Is it just a matter of avoiding being the one hurt? Is that why so many people lash out--make sure they're the one spared by default? I'm guilty of this too. What a complicated and sort of unstoppable cycle. It makes my head want to explode.
I hate not being able to be perfect. To analyze what's right and make the wrong decisions and judgements anyway. Perhaps I'm seeing things too much in black and white. I should put my life on the gray scale. It is, after all, the braver thing to do.
I never mean to be a jerk, but it's humbling and depressing when I realize that I can and do in fact, hurt other people despite my best efforts.
In short, today was a low self-esteem day. I just felt so lackluster--sub par, incapable, naive and small, apologetic and angry, self-centered and cruel and dismissive... so utterly human.
I need to brush my teeth.
I could also use a good cry.
A friend of mine brought up today that perhaps we focus on our relationships with others as a way to block out the rest of our problems--this makes sense. Even when I'm single (which is always) I'm always harboring feelings for some unlucky (sorry, low-self-esteem day seeping out) individual.
It reminds me of Eve Ensler's quote--Freedom is scary; Pain is familiar.
But how does one go about putting that sentiment in practice?
Perhaps leaving behind everything and everyone I know when I leave for NZ in September. That's freedom, right? And that sure is scary.
Sometimes I actually think it's easier to be alone, and other times I think it's the opposite.
Nothing is simple. What an original thought, Sarah D.
I'm done.
Hopefully I'll feel better tomorrow.
Monday, May 11, 2009
oh heaven help me
It's 1:41 am.
I'm exhausted.
I've got four pages on my 15 page paper due tomm--today at 9am.
I'm insane.
Why on earth do I do this to myself? I don't really do it on purpose, though perhaps I do, because I clearly am never worried enough to start at a reasonable time.
I hate this part of all nighters.
The fuck-I-really-just-want-to-sleep-screw-this-paper-what's-40%-of-my-grade?-no-big-I'll-just-get-a-D-I-just-need-to-graduate part of the night.
The I'm--out-of-of-coffee-but-too-lazy-to-walk-to-the-library-to-get-their-free-crap-coffee-and-join-the-rest-of-those-in-my-same-rowboat-part-of-the-night.
The listen-to-my-pure-pop-music-station-on-pandora-radio-because-at-least-nsync-is-upbeat-tell-me-why-ain't-nothing-but-a-heartache.
The-I'm-hungry-so-I-just-ate-a-non-vegan-brownie-that-wasn't-mine-sorry-Elizabeth-part-of-the-night.
The-blog-instead-of-face-my-fate-part-of-the-night.
I need to go for a walk or something... but it's night time, and I don't want to go out walking in this town at 2am when all the sexual predators come out to play. I'll stay in my sleepy house, please and thank you.
Or I might just risk it. I may or may not desperately need a red bull or something. I hate those drinks, they're pure poison. But this paper is worth 40% of my grade. I researched ahead of time! But work happened, and poetry paper came first. I am not a right brained person. I cannot schedule to save my life. Or yours, for that matter, so look out! I'm kidding, you're fine. (No, really, look out.)
I don't have a lot of sources either. I have three books, two websites, and a shit ton of people I interviewed. I'm sort of banking on those thirty survey takers being the majority of my research. Oh goll-eee, what if I fail this paper? I want to get an A +++, but right now I think I'd settle for a C. C +.
Fuck that I want an A.
This is my LAST school thing ever ever ever--(Well, Sarah, not if you go to grad school...) EVER.
I wish I had a car. I want to go to taco bell or something.
:::knocks on Dana's door:::
Me: Dana, you busy?
Dana: Yep.
Me: Oh. (Pause.) Cool. (Pause.) Do you want to take a taco bell break?
Dana: Sorry, already went.
:::comes back and finishes this blog:::
Or possibly Holland.
Who wants to go Holland? I do.
"I don't."
What? Why not? Tell me why!
"Ain't nothing but a heartache. Also, I hate Holland. Asha says the Dutch are conceited."
I'm sure that's a generalization.
"Nope."
Sarah, don't be a spoiled brat. Listen--I'm sick of this. I never want to hear you say... 'I want it that way.'"
"I want it that way."
We're breaking up.
I'm exhausted.
I've got four pages on my 15 page paper due tomm--today at 9am.
I'm insane.
Why on earth do I do this to myself? I don't really do it on purpose, though perhaps I do, because I clearly am never worried enough to start at a reasonable time.
I hate this part of all nighters.
The fuck-I-really-just-want-to-sleep-screw-this-paper-what's-40%-of-my-grade?-no-big-I'll-just-get-a-D-I-just-need-to-graduate part of the night.
The I'm--out-of-of-coffee-but-too-lazy-to-walk-to-the-library-to-get-their-free-crap-coffee-and-join-the-rest-of-those-in-my-same-rowboat-part-of-the-night.
The listen-to-my-pure-pop-music-station-on-pandora-radio-because-at-least-nsync-is-upbeat-tell-me-why-ain't-nothing-but-a-heartache.
The-I'm-hungry-so-I-just-ate-a-non-vegan-brownie-that-wasn't-mine-sorry-Elizabeth-part-of-the-night.
The-blog-instead-of-face-my-fate-part-of-the-night.
I need to go for a walk or something... but it's night time, and I don't want to go out walking in this town at 2am when all the sexual predators come out to play. I'll stay in my sleepy house, please and thank you.
Or I might just risk it. I may or may not desperately need a red bull or something. I hate those drinks, they're pure poison. But this paper is worth 40% of my grade. I researched ahead of time! But work happened, and poetry paper came first. I am not a right brained person. I cannot schedule to save my life. Or yours, for that matter, so look out! I'm kidding, you're fine. (No, really, look out.)
I don't have a lot of sources either. I have three books, two websites, and a shit ton of people I interviewed. I'm sort of banking on those thirty survey takers being the majority of my research. Oh goll-eee, what if I fail this paper? I want to get an A +++, but right now I think I'd settle for a C. C +.
Fuck that I want an A.
This is my LAST school thing ever ever ever--(Well, Sarah, not if you go to grad school...) EVER.
I wish I had a car. I want to go to taco bell or something.
:::knocks on Dana's door:::
Me: Dana, you busy?
Dana: Yep.
Me: Oh. (Pause.) Cool. (Pause.) Do you want to take a taco bell break?
Dana: Sorry, already went.
:::comes back and finishes this blog:::
Or possibly Holland.
Who wants to go Holland? I do.
"I don't."
What? Why not? Tell me why!
"Ain't nothing but a heartache. Also, I hate Holland. Asha says the Dutch are conceited."
I'm sure that's a generalization.
"Nope."
Sarah, don't be a spoiled brat. Listen--I'm sick of this. I never want to hear you say... 'I want it that way.'"
"I want it that way."
We're breaking up.
--both hands--
I really need to stop writing my 15 page term papers in one day.
I start my paper on bisexuality tomorrow morning, it's due Tuesday at 9am. This is going to be such an undertaking. I LOVE the topic, I LOVE the class, and I LOVE my professor... but I wish this could be like a phd thesis or something--I need a year for this topic.
And I know I'm arguing for the legitimacy of bisexuality, but that's been done. I need to argue it from a different angle. The why, the what--I've narrowed it down to female bisexuality because bisexuality itself is a gi-normous topic. I really want to write about the lesbians vs. bisexual women bias, which may be the next narrowed down step. I got so many good surveys from straight women, and the male population, and it's a shame not to be able to use them. Ya know, I really want to write a book about bisexuality in the form of Ariel Levy's Female Chauvinist Pigs--approachable, New York Times Bestseller-able, funny, sharp, and really fucking smart and poignant. That's what I aspire to be. Fucking smart and poignant. Razor sharp. Zing!
Yawn.
I graduate this Saturday.
Hmm.
It hits me about once every three days. Right now I'm in the nonchalant completely shrug shoulders mood portion of the three days.
There are bradley folk and profs I want to say a big ole mushy goodbye to.... but a part of me feels it'd be better just to not bother. Not because they're not worth it, but I mean...life is a big revolving door. It might be better to just not say goodbye, because, it's not really goodbye, everything's circular, they'll be in my life again in some form, regardless. I don't know. Maybe I'm just telling myself that in order to avoid feeling empty and shitty and sad and confused, because I'm not sad--I've wanted to graduate since Sophomore year-so where is all this complicated emotion coming from, hmm? I hate that sadness pit of your stomach feeling. I avoid it at all costs. That's actually not true at all. I succumb to it whenever it comes to visit. Mais oui! I still loathe it.
Okay, I need to read more on bisexuality, sketch out a thesis/outline and call it a night. None of that will happen--I bet myself 5 dollars I'll fall asleep.
I swear, I would be much more productive if the good Lord had made me a robot.
bon nuit.
***
in each other's shadows
we grew less and less tall
and eventually our theories
couldn't explain it all
and I'm recording our history
now on the bedroom wall
and when we leave the landlord will come
and paint over it all
and I am walking
out in the rain
and I am listening
to the low moan
of the dial tone again
and I am getting nowhere with you
and I can't let it go
and I can't get through...
so now use both hands
please use both hands
oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried
how hard we tried
how hard we tried
-both hands-
(ani difranco)
I start my paper on bisexuality tomorrow morning, it's due Tuesday at 9am. This is going to be such an undertaking. I LOVE the topic, I LOVE the class, and I LOVE my professor... but I wish this could be like a phd thesis or something--I need a year for this topic.
And I know I'm arguing for the legitimacy of bisexuality, but that's been done. I need to argue it from a different angle. The why, the what--I've narrowed it down to female bisexuality because bisexuality itself is a gi-normous topic. I really want to write about the lesbians vs. bisexual women bias, which may be the next narrowed down step. I got so many good surveys from straight women, and the male population, and it's a shame not to be able to use them. Ya know, I really want to write a book about bisexuality in the form of Ariel Levy's Female Chauvinist Pigs--approachable, New York Times Bestseller-able, funny, sharp, and really fucking smart and poignant. That's what I aspire to be. Fucking smart and poignant. Razor sharp. Zing!
Yawn.
I graduate this Saturday.
Hmm.
It hits me about once every three days. Right now I'm in the nonchalant completely shrug shoulders mood portion of the three days.
There are bradley folk and profs I want to say a big ole mushy goodbye to.... but a part of me feels it'd be better just to not bother. Not because they're not worth it, but I mean...life is a big revolving door. It might be better to just not say goodbye, because, it's not really goodbye, everything's circular, they'll be in my life again in some form, regardless. I don't know. Maybe I'm just telling myself that in order to avoid feeling empty and shitty and sad and confused, because I'm not sad--I've wanted to graduate since Sophomore year-so where is all this complicated emotion coming from, hmm? I hate that sadness pit of your stomach feeling. I avoid it at all costs. That's actually not true at all. I succumb to it whenever it comes to visit. Mais oui! I still loathe it.
Okay, I need to read more on bisexuality, sketch out a thesis/outline and call it a night. None of that will happen--I bet myself 5 dollars I'll fall asleep.
I swear, I would be much more productive if the good Lord had made me a robot.
bon nuit.
***
in each other's shadows
we grew less and less tall
and eventually our theories
couldn't explain it all
and I'm recording our history
now on the bedroom wall
and when we leave the landlord will come
and paint over it all
and I am walking
out in the rain
and I am listening
to the low moan
of the dial tone again
and I am getting nowhere with you
and I can't let it go
and I can't get through...
so now use both hands
please use both hands
oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried
how hard we tried
how hard we tried
-both hands-
(ani difranco)
Monday, May 4, 2009
the moment of truth...
has arrived, unpacked it's bags (the moment of truth is androgynous) and will not be leaving anytime soon, it has informed me.
in other words.
I'm doing the stand-up thing. I'm going to an open mic this thursday. No, you cannot come. I'm not letting anyone come with me this time because I want to fall on my face in front of strangers, not friends. But if I survive said fall, then the next time I perform, y'all can come.
ALSO I have entered (well, if they let me in) a stand-up contest for June 8th. Yeah. I know. But hey, I've just got to DO this. I know I'm going to suck because I've a total novice. But if I don't get up off my ass and just do it... then I'll be lame. Literally and figuratively. And these boots are made for walking.
So keep me in your thoughts this Thursday. Pray that I get at least one good laugh--enough to rope me in so that I keep going towards this goal. I wholeheartedly expect to crash burn and bomb, but I hope I get at least one good chuckle.
Wish me chuckles.
in other words.
I'm doing the stand-up thing. I'm going to an open mic this thursday. No, you cannot come. I'm not letting anyone come with me this time because I want to fall on my face in front of strangers, not friends. But if I survive said fall, then the next time I perform, y'all can come.
ALSO I have entered (well, if they let me in) a stand-up contest for June 8th. Yeah. I know. But hey, I've just got to DO this. I know I'm going to suck because I've a total novice. But if I don't get up off my ass and just do it... then I'll be lame. Literally and figuratively. And these boots are made for walking.
So keep me in your thoughts this Thursday. Pray that I get at least one good laugh--enough to rope me in so that I keep going towards this goal. I wholeheartedly expect to crash burn and bomb, but I hope I get at least one good chuckle.
Wish me chuckles.
Friday, May 1, 2009
I love this song.
hour follows hour
like water follows water
everything is governed
by the rule of one thing leads to another
you can't really place blame
cuz blame is much to messy
some was bound to get on you
while you were tryin' to put it on me
and don't fool yourself into thinking things are simple
nobody's lying
still the stories don't line up
why do you try to hold on to what you'll never get a hold on?
you wouldn't try to put the ocean
in a paper cup
cuz i have had something to prove
as long as i know there's something
that needs improvment
and you know that every time i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most we can do
is just to see each other through it
hour follows hour like water in a river
and from one to the next
we don't know what each hour will deliver
we just call it like we see it
call it out loud as we can
and then afterwards
we call it all water over the dam
maybe the moral higher ground
ain't as high as it seems
maybe we are both good people
done some bad things
i just hope it was okay
i know it wasn't perfect
i hope in the end we can laugh
and say it was all worth it
cuz i have had something to prove
as long as i know something
that needs improvement
and you know that everytime i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most that we can do
is just to see each other through it
we make our own gravity to give weight to things
then things fall and they break and gravity sings
we can only hold so much is what i figure
try and keep our eye on the big picture
picture keeps getting bigger
and too much is how i like you
but too well is how i know you
and i've got nothing to prove this time
just something to show you
i guess i just wanted you to see
that it was all worth it to me
"Hour Follows Hour," Ani Difranco
like water follows water
everything is governed
by the rule of one thing leads to another
you can't really place blame
cuz blame is much to messy
some was bound to get on you
while you were tryin' to put it on me
and don't fool yourself into thinking things are simple
nobody's lying
still the stories don't line up
why do you try to hold on to what you'll never get a hold on?
you wouldn't try to put the ocean
in a paper cup
cuz i have had something to prove
as long as i know there's something
that needs improvment
and you know that every time i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most we can do
is just to see each other through it
hour follows hour like water in a river
and from one to the next
we don't know what each hour will deliver
we just call it like we see it
call it out loud as we can
and then afterwards
we call it all water over the dam
maybe the moral higher ground
ain't as high as it seems
maybe we are both good people
done some bad things
i just hope it was okay
i know it wasn't perfect
i hope in the end we can laugh
and say it was all worth it
cuz i have had something to prove
as long as i know something
that needs improvement
and you know that everytime i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most that we can do
is just to see each other through it
we make our own gravity to give weight to things
then things fall and they break and gravity sings
we can only hold so much is what i figure
try and keep our eye on the big picture
picture keeps getting bigger
and too much is how i like you
but too well is how i know you
and i've got nothing to prove this time
just something to show you
i guess i just wanted you to see
that it was all worth it to me
"Hour Follows Hour," Ani Difranco
Monday, April 27, 2009
I am really, really scared about swine flu.
And I do not want to die of this disease.
Also, apparently it has reached New Zealand.
!!!!!!
I'm still going, but crapola!
All jokes aside, my biggest, biggest fear is dying young... and this is giving me genuine and painful panic.
Come on scientists, come up with a vaccine!
And I do not want to die of this disease.
Also, apparently it has reached New Zealand.
!!!!!!
I'm still going, but crapola!
All jokes aside, my biggest, biggest fear is dying young... and this is giving me genuine and painful panic.
Come on scientists, come up with a vaccine!
Monday, April 20, 2009
I Made a Website For My Poetry
http://groundlessnessandflight.blogspot.com/
it's pretty raw, and it's pretty candid.
good thing most of it is made up.
that's the beauty of poetry.
lying in the name of artistic truth.
enjoy.
it's pretty raw, and it's pretty candid.
good thing most of it is made up.
that's the beauty of poetry.
lying in the name of artistic truth.
enjoy.
Friday, April 17, 2009
A Doormat Puts in For Early Retirement
There are things I wish I could say, but my moral compass will not allow it, nor do I want to be an emo blog kid. So I'm going to try to express things without putting my foot in my mouth.
The problem with any sort of relationship is that it is doomed to a constant imbalance. Someone always feels something more than the other, and it can change from day to day. I hate the feeling of having lost my mind, or not being able to listen to myself, or being controlled by an "other" who isn't actually controlling me at all, but because I have found myself with feelings of attachment, the world turns upside down. I don't think that's romantic. Don't tell me that's "the way it goes." I think it's inconvenient and debilitating. I don't want someone's mere presence to make me feel small and stupid and sad. I want to flourish. I want to blossom. I hate feeling little, that feeling of over-eagerness, trying to please. And I feel this way around all sorts of people, not just those I've had romantic feelings for and felt hurt by.
If I could rid myself of one feeling or one habit, I would rid myself of my need for reassurance, and my reliance on others and my relationships with them to make me feel good about myself and my life. I don't care if reasurrance is my "love language" it's a hassle, and it holds me back from being the kind of self-reliant individual I'd like to be. Why must any kind of romantic feelings--not even an actual relationship, but just feelings--automatically mean entanglement and some sort of strange intense obligation to the other? We get tightly tied to one another, whether we like it or not. Or maybe this is just me. Maybe that's the problem. I feel obligated... and other people do not.
Well, fuck that. I'm tired of being nice and apologetic. I know that's the mature thing, and I know that's the right thing, but it also feels remarkably like being a doormat. I'm bitter and I'm tired of being the bigger person because it feels a lot like losing. Turning the other cheek hurts, Jesus.
I don't want to be obligated to anyone unless I choose to be, but I feel like this is a difficult thing to accomplish, and perhaps even an unnatural one. Is it? I want to be tied down to me and only me. Call me selfish, I'll be the first one to say it. I'm selfish. Except, the problem is, I'm not. I want to be, desperately, but I have this problem with caring overtly, even obsessively, about how I affect other people. Like feeling apologetic for even blogging, when you know what, it's my fucking blog, I can say what I want, there are worse habits to have than being too expressive. And if I'm a little immature, sue me, I'm 21. Maybe it would do me some good to embrace my bitter angry immature side.
I'm focused on freedom, but I've been equating freedom with solitude. Which I am not certain is quite right. There's got to be a balance--some couples, some individuals find it. So is it this elusive holy grail? Do I need to be in a club or have a password? Or do I just have to go through a lot more ups and downs until I'm wise and old and withered and wonderful? I'd like to have one, just one--really, that's all I need--healthy, flourishing, beautiful balanced free relationship before my life is over. And I sincerely hope that this is not too idealistic of a wish.
You know, maybe I just hate the aching that comes with caring for someone who naturally doesn't care as much back, and maybe that's just a cycle I'm doomed to repeat like the rest of the world. But I'm tired of it. Exhausted. And I never listen to myself! Okay, that's not true, but I don't listen to myself sometimes when it's really, really! pivotal that I do so. I say, "Hey, Sarah, you're tired of this," or, "Hey, this is a terrible idea, don't do it..." and despite my inner alarms, I still jump at new opportunities, when maybe, just maybe, I should say... "No."
But, but, but! I don't want to be the bitter jaded single person, so I push myself to "just try it, just see where it goes, just take a chance." Which is silly because, let's face it, I am the bitter jaded single person. There is a real part of me that thinks surely I'll end up like Eleanor Rigby, hiding my face in a jar. The other part of me is sure that this can't happen because you know what? I don't suck as a person. In fact, I'm pretty stellar. I want to fall in love, I do. I want to feel free with someone else, but right now, all of my attempts seem to lead to some form and feeling of captivity, and this isn't what I need. I keep putting myself in the subordinate position, and it's high time I seriously cut that out.
Or maybe this obligation I feel burdened with means I'm a nice person.
And, historically, we finish last.
I'm going abroad soon. It'd be cheesy as hell to say I hope I "find myself" in New Zealand, so I won't. Frankly, I didn't ever need to find myself, I'm not lost, I never was. I'm here. I know who I am. I don't like some of my sides, and I like to pretend they're not there, but they are, and I am fully aware of this. In my adult life, I'd like to start embracing all parts of me in an effort to strengthen myself.
I read a postsecret once that read,
"I want to share the joy of being alone with someone else."
That's it. That's it exactly.
But for now, I'll continue to share it with me.
The problem with any sort of relationship is that it is doomed to a constant imbalance. Someone always feels something more than the other, and it can change from day to day. I hate the feeling of having lost my mind, or not being able to listen to myself, or being controlled by an "other" who isn't actually controlling me at all, but because I have found myself with feelings of attachment, the world turns upside down. I don't think that's romantic. Don't tell me that's "the way it goes." I think it's inconvenient and debilitating. I don't want someone's mere presence to make me feel small and stupid and sad. I want to flourish. I want to blossom. I hate feeling little, that feeling of over-eagerness, trying to please. And I feel this way around all sorts of people, not just those I've had romantic feelings for and felt hurt by.
If I could rid myself of one feeling or one habit, I would rid myself of my need for reassurance, and my reliance on others and my relationships with them to make me feel good about myself and my life. I don't care if reasurrance is my "love language" it's a hassle, and it holds me back from being the kind of self-reliant individual I'd like to be. Why must any kind of romantic feelings--not even an actual relationship, but just feelings--automatically mean entanglement and some sort of strange intense obligation to the other? We get tightly tied to one another, whether we like it or not. Or maybe this is just me. Maybe that's the problem. I feel obligated... and other people do not.
Well, fuck that. I'm tired of being nice and apologetic. I know that's the mature thing, and I know that's the right thing, but it also feels remarkably like being a doormat. I'm bitter and I'm tired of being the bigger person because it feels a lot like losing. Turning the other cheek hurts, Jesus.
I don't want to be obligated to anyone unless I choose to be, but I feel like this is a difficult thing to accomplish, and perhaps even an unnatural one. Is it? I want to be tied down to me and only me. Call me selfish, I'll be the first one to say it. I'm selfish. Except, the problem is, I'm not. I want to be, desperately, but I have this problem with caring overtly, even obsessively, about how I affect other people. Like feeling apologetic for even blogging, when you know what, it's my fucking blog, I can say what I want, there are worse habits to have than being too expressive. And if I'm a little immature, sue me, I'm 21. Maybe it would do me some good to embrace my bitter angry immature side.
I'm focused on freedom, but I've been equating freedom with solitude. Which I am not certain is quite right. There's got to be a balance--some couples, some individuals find it. So is it this elusive holy grail? Do I need to be in a club or have a password? Or do I just have to go through a lot more ups and downs until I'm wise and old and withered and wonderful? I'd like to have one, just one--really, that's all I need--healthy, flourishing, beautiful balanced free relationship before my life is over. And I sincerely hope that this is not too idealistic of a wish.
You know, maybe I just hate the aching that comes with caring for someone who naturally doesn't care as much back, and maybe that's just a cycle I'm doomed to repeat like the rest of the world. But I'm tired of it. Exhausted. And I never listen to myself! Okay, that's not true, but I don't listen to myself sometimes when it's really, really! pivotal that I do so. I say, "Hey, Sarah, you're tired of this," or, "Hey, this is a terrible idea, don't do it..." and despite my inner alarms, I still jump at new opportunities, when maybe, just maybe, I should say... "No."
But, but, but! I don't want to be the bitter jaded single person, so I push myself to "just try it, just see where it goes, just take a chance." Which is silly because, let's face it, I am the bitter jaded single person. There is a real part of me that thinks surely I'll end up like Eleanor Rigby, hiding my face in a jar. The other part of me is sure that this can't happen because you know what? I don't suck as a person. In fact, I'm pretty stellar. I want to fall in love, I do. I want to feel free with someone else, but right now, all of my attempts seem to lead to some form and feeling of captivity, and this isn't what I need. I keep putting myself in the subordinate position, and it's high time I seriously cut that out.
Or maybe this obligation I feel burdened with means I'm a nice person.
And, historically, we finish last.
I'm going abroad soon. It'd be cheesy as hell to say I hope I "find myself" in New Zealand, so I won't. Frankly, I didn't ever need to find myself, I'm not lost, I never was. I'm here. I know who I am. I don't like some of my sides, and I like to pretend they're not there, but they are, and I am fully aware of this. In my adult life, I'd like to start embracing all parts of me in an effort to strengthen myself.
I read a postsecret once that read,
"I want to share the joy of being alone with someone else."
That's it. That's it exactly.
But for now, I'll continue to share it with me.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Having a gi-normous sale is exhausting.
Fun, but completely exhausting.
This seems to be true about most fun things. They usually lead to fatigue of some kind. But then again, miserable activities usually have the same result.
Well goll-ee Sarah D, that's dreary.
I'm going to go watch Buffy and ignore my thoughts and responsibilities. Just kidding. I don't have responsibilities (as of this second, I don't really, no homework, no class tomorrow.)
I need to go eat some spinach.
For courage and biceps. I feel both of these things will help me in my stand-up comedy endeavor. Which I have vowed to undertake after my sale. What a thrill seeking scary life I lead. Next thing you know, I'll be flaunting my sexuality in the heart of the bible belt, just to live on the edge. And hey, while I do it, maybe I'll even have a wild crrrazy soda pop. With a lime. Whoa, hop off the outlaw train, self, before you'sa gonna get yo self in trouble.
Word.
Fun, but completely exhausting.
This seems to be true about most fun things. They usually lead to fatigue of some kind. But then again, miserable activities usually have the same result.
Well goll-ee Sarah D, that's dreary.
I'm going to go watch Buffy and ignore my thoughts and responsibilities. Just kidding. I don't have responsibilities (as of this second, I don't really, no homework, no class tomorrow.)
I need to go eat some spinach.
For courage and biceps. I feel both of these things will help me in my stand-up comedy endeavor. Which I have vowed to undertake after my sale. What a thrill seeking scary life I lead. Next thing you know, I'll be flaunting my sexuality in the heart of the bible belt, just to live on the edge. And hey, while I do it, maybe I'll even have a wild crrrazy soda pop. With a lime. Whoa, hop off the outlaw train, self, before you'sa gonna get yo self in trouble.
Word.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Dear Citizens of America,
Top Ten (In No Real Order) (Specific and Perhaps Un-Obvious) Things Never To Do At a Restaurant:
1. Don't leave a pamphlet of any religious origin with a title along the lines of "Have You Found Jesus?" as your tip. Jesus would tip. If you don't believe me, go back to your bible where he did all that cool stuff like hanging out with the poor and the prostitutes and the marginalized societies. We, the working class, are the ones Jesus would help out, not you, the rich and too good to tip. So if you want to demonstrate Christian kindness... demonstrate Christian kindness.
2. Don't let your children color copiously or even lightly on the tables. This is not easy to get off--it doesn't wipe off like food debri. If your children are following in the footsteps of Picasso and O'Keefe, we will provide you with paper. We promise. Yes, you might feel like at a restaurant, this is the one time you don't have to clean up after your children. You might feel free. We might feel you are bad parents and worse patrons.
3. Don't ask the host/hostess to change tables or for a specific table. The dining room floor is divided into sections by server so that every server gets an even amount of tables and thus an even amount of work and subsequently, money. There's a system. We understand that you want a booth, or a center table, or a window table, but ultimately, it really fucks with our flow, not to mention it usually causes the servers to resent both the host/hostess for double seating them and you, for being so darn picky. A table's a table. ALSO: NEVER SEAT YOURSELF. Unless, of course, it says to.
4. Unless you know the server, or have a personal favorite because you are a regular, do not ask your current server for a new server based on any of the following: skin color (yes this happens, on both sides), gender, outfit, facial hair, tattoos, or any other bigoted judgemental opinion you may have. This is just awful. It makes the server feel like shit and it makes the requested/replacement server feel awkward. Don't be an asshole.
5. Never snap, clap, wave, or holler at a server to get their attention. They are not your dog. Along the same lines, remember that if it's busy, your server has many, many other tables. They will get to you as soon as possible, and getting impatient or bitchy with them is not only unfair, but unnecessary. If there's a real problem, talk to the manager.
5.5. Don't ask other servers or employees to bring you your server or bring you other things. This happens to me all the time as an expo (aka food runner.) Of course, I always oblige, but if I have a giant tray in my hand and a tray stand and we're very busy--when you tell me you'd like to order a special coffee drink and proceed to tell me what it is and expect me to get it for you when that is nowhere in my power, not to mention I look *nothing* like your server... it's just silly. Someone will help you, we promise. But wait for your server to come. If it's dire that you talk to them now, politely ask another employee to bring you your server--POLITELY AND ONLY AS A LAST RESORT! Unless they're a sucky server (which happens, but that's an exception) they'll get to you, I pinky promise. Practice patience, hold those horses.
6. Don't complain about your food unless there's a genuine problem. Example: A woman once complained that her tea "didn't taste like anything." The server replaced the hot water, and still, the tea "didn't taste like anything." Look, lady. Tea is lightly flavored water. If you want flavor, get a soda. Your tea bags performance is not the fault of the server. Moral: don't be unnecessarily critical--unless the food was made incorrectly, there is no need to send it back. If you don't like it, don't order it next time. If you must get something new or send it back, don't treat the server like it's their fault, because it really isn't.
7. Don't hit on the employees. Unless, of course you're attractive and they flirt with you too. But if you're over 40 and your server is under 25... stop it, creepsauce. "Restaurant" does not equal "brothel." Similarly try not to say things like, "honey," "sweetie," "babe," or "baby" to your server, especially if the server is female. It's demeaning and patronizing.
9. Don't tell me that it's "too loud" in the restaurant. It's a RESTAURANT. When it gets busy, it's bound to be buzzing. Go to a park or a monastery or pop in some Simon and Garfunkle if you're looking for the sound of silence.
10. And of course... don't stiff your server. If you don't agree with the tipping customs, great, but then go to a restaurant where tipping isn't expected (aka Europe.) Here in America, servers make the majority of their money from their tips. Unless the service was exceptionally bad from the server, leave them a decent tip, which by the way is 20 to 30%. Not 5%, not 10%, not 15%. If the food was cold, if it took too long--those things are out of the servers control (there's always exceptions, but usually.) If there's a real problem, again, contact the manager. General rule: IF YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO TIP THE SERVER, DO NOT GO OUT TO EAT. OR, GO TO McDONALDS.
(Extra--11.) Don't leave weird shit at the table, or under it. Once I had to remove a decently sized TREE BRANCH from under a table. What the frickin' frack?!
***
Humorous (Or Somewhat Tragic) Food Service Quote:
Patron: I really want some, like, potatoes, but not fries... but they're fried...? They're like potatoes.... but they're chips....
Server: ...Potato chips?
Patron: (Very excited) Yeah, exactly!
***
This has been a segment of "Sarah Says,"
an ornery and opinionated column-esqu featured on her blog, Paper Cranium.
Thank you.
1. Don't leave a pamphlet of any religious origin with a title along the lines of "Have You Found Jesus?" as your tip. Jesus would tip. If you don't believe me, go back to your bible where he did all that cool stuff like hanging out with the poor and the prostitutes and the marginalized societies. We, the working class, are the ones Jesus would help out, not you, the rich and too good to tip. So if you want to demonstrate Christian kindness... demonstrate Christian kindness.
2. Don't let your children color copiously or even lightly on the tables. This is not easy to get off--it doesn't wipe off like food debri. If your children are following in the footsteps of Picasso and O'Keefe, we will provide you with paper. We promise. Yes, you might feel like at a restaurant, this is the one time you don't have to clean up after your children. You might feel free. We might feel you are bad parents and worse patrons.
3. Don't ask the host/hostess to change tables or for a specific table. The dining room floor is divided into sections by server so that every server gets an even amount of tables and thus an even amount of work and subsequently, money. There's a system. We understand that you want a booth, or a center table, or a window table, but ultimately, it really fucks with our flow, not to mention it usually causes the servers to resent both the host/hostess for double seating them and you, for being so darn picky. A table's a table. ALSO: NEVER SEAT YOURSELF. Unless, of course, it says to.
4. Unless you know the server, or have a personal favorite because you are a regular, do not ask your current server for a new server based on any of the following: skin color (yes this happens, on both sides), gender, outfit, facial hair, tattoos, or any other bigoted judgemental opinion you may have. This is just awful. It makes the server feel like shit and it makes the requested/replacement server feel awkward. Don't be an asshole.
5. Never snap, clap, wave, or holler at a server to get their attention. They are not your dog. Along the same lines, remember that if it's busy, your server has many, many other tables. They will get to you as soon as possible, and getting impatient or bitchy with them is not only unfair, but unnecessary. If there's a real problem, talk to the manager.
5.5. Don't ask other servers or employees to bring you your server or bring you other things. This happens to me all the time as an expo (aka food runner.) Of course, I always oblige, but if I have a giant tray in my hand and a tray stand and we're very busy--when you tell me you'd like to order a special coffee drink and proceed to tell me what it is and expect me to get it for you when that is nowhere in my power, not to mention I look *nothing* like your server... it's just silly. Someone will help you, we promise. But wait for your server to come. If it's dire that you talk to them now, politely ask another employee to bring you your server--POLITELY AND ONLY AS A LAST RESORT! Unless they're a sucky server (which happens, but that's an exception) they'll get to you, I pinky promise. Practice patience, hold those horses.
6. Don't complain about your food unless there's a genuine problem. Example: A woman once complained that her tea "didn't taste like anything." The server replaced the hot water, and still, the tea "didn't taste like anything." Look, lady. Tea is lightly flavored water. If you want flavor, get a soda. Your tea bags performance is not the fault of the server. Moral: don't be unnecessarily critical--unless the food was made incorrectly, there is no need to send it back. If you don't like it, don't order it next time. If you must get something new or send it back, don't treat the server like it's their fault, because it really isn't.
7. Don't hit on the employees. Unless, of course you're attractive and they flirt with you too. But if you're over 40 and your server is under 25... stop it, creepsauce. "Restaurant" does not equal "brothel." Similarly try not to say things like, "honey," "sweetie," "babe," or "baby" to your server, especially if the server is female. It's demeaning and patronizing.
9. Don't tell me that it's "too loud" in the restaurant. It's a RESTAURANT. When it gets busy, it's bound to be buzzing. Go to a park or a monastery or pop in some Simon and Garfunkle if you're looking for the sound of silence.
10. And of course... don't stiff your server. If you don't agree with the tipping customs, great, but then go to a restaurant where tipping isn't expected (aka Europe.) Here in America, servers make the majority of their money from their tips. Unless the service was exceptionally bad from the server, leave them a decent tip, which by the way is 20 to 30%. Not 5%, not 10%, not 15%. If the food was cold, if it took too long--those things are out of the servers control (there's always exceptions, but usually.) If there's a real problem, again, contact the manager. General rule: IF YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO TIP THE SERVER, DO NOT GO OUT TO EAT. OR, GO TO McDONALDS.
(Extra--11.) Don't leave weird shit at the table, or under it. Once I had to remove a decently sized TREE BRANCH from under a table. What the frickin' frack?!
***
Humorous (Or Somewhat Tragic) Food Service Quote:
Patron: I really want some, like, potatoes, but not fries... but they're fried...? They're like potatoes.... but they're chips....
Server: ...Potato chips?
Patron: (Very excited) Yeah, exactly!
***
This has been a segment of "Sarah Says,"
an ornery and opinionated column-esqu featured on her blog, Paper Cranium.
Thank you.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Misanthropology and other tales
Allo le monde! (Hello World!)
It has taken some time for me to update this, but I find myself with a half hour of spare time on my hands-not a regular occurence. I have not been able to decide exactly what to focus on in this entry, so I have decided to mention everything in a shortened blurb.
I.
I have taken to eating a lot more than usual as of late, or at least it feels this way. I would be concerned, except it tastes so, so good. I'm still sticking to my 95% veganism, so what harm am I really doing? Actually I am curious about this influx. It must be psychological. Or hormonal. Or perhaps I am simply hungry. :takes large bite of garden burger:
II.
Why are people afraid of impassioned discussion? I feel that I have recently encountered multiple instances where people are trying to keep discussions from getting flustered, or heated. WHY? Our emotions give us power, and only when we care about something strongly will we fight for it. What is so wrong about even remotely getting worked up in a discussion and fighting for ideas, ideals, and ignoring consensus until an honest one is reached? I think there is this fear of offending an other that needs to be disregarded--in any important discussion, people will get offended. It's the nature of the beast. As long as we're not personally attacking anyone, the offense that will be taken will be impersonal--people will be offended that their ideas are deconstructed, but so what? Welcome to adulthood. It will happen to all of us, and that's the only way we can reach any reasonable conclusion. I just think it's foolish to try to keep everyone's temper and excitement at a stagnant level. And let me say--I'm not talking full fledged tantrums or screaming. Obviously, that behavior would be out of line. But in my recent experience, any argument that became slightly heated and tense was treated like a code red, which is simply ridiculous. We're college students, we're not kindergarteners. Is anyone really going to cry and pout if their idea doesn't work? If someone is, then please leave the discussion (and possibly college) and come back when you've grown up a wee bit, deary. If someone says something that provokes a response from me, I'm not going to wait 30 seconds to process their comment--I've already processed it, and I've got something to say to expound or contradict. Don't cut me off when I'm simply furthering a needed conversation. We're not Carebears. We aren't obligated to be all chill and huggy. We can be respectful without walking and talking on tiptoe. I'm not attacking anyone specifically--I've just noticed this phenomenon in a lot of my classes, and it's really "gotten my goat." So give me back my goat.
III.
The Weepies, The Bird and the Bee, and Gregory and the Hawk are all excellent bands, newly discovered by yours truly, and I'd like to pass them on. I discovered The Weepies a while back, but I've now heard more of their songs, thus falling deeper in love.
IV.
I've become more and more fascinated with sociology and anthropology as of late. Talking to Alex at lunch today, we decided we should combine my current irritation for people's bizarre tendencies with my desire to study individuals, thus coming up with a new field: Misanthropology. The study of human beings that are hard to like--we (Alex and myself) would cover a wide spectrum of the human race, objectively deciphering what it is exactly about person A, F, and Z that makes them unlikable. I think it's gonna be big. Stay tuned.
V.
In same discussion, we concluded that South Park is Brechtian.
VI.
That is all.
VII.
I prefer to end on a seven.
It has taken some time for me to update this, but I find myself with a half hour of spare time on my hands-not a regular occurence. I have not been able to decide exactly what to focus on in this entry, so I have decided to mention everything in a shortened blurb.
I.
I have taken to eating a lot more than usual as of late, or at least it feels this way. I would be concerned, except it tastes so, so good. I'm still sticking to my 95% veganism, so what harm am I really doing? Actually I am curious about this influx. It must be psychological. Or hormonal. Or perhaps I am simply hungry. :takes large bite of garden burger:
II.
Why are people afraid of impassioned discussion? I feel that I have recently encountered multiple instances where people are trying to keep discussions from getting flustered, or heated. WHY? Our emotions give us power, and only when we care about something strongly will we fight for it. What is so wrong about even remotely getting worked up in a discussion and fighting for ideas, ideals, and ignoring consensus until an honest one is reached? I think there is this fear of offending an other that needs to be disregarded--in any important discussion, people will get offended. It's the nature of the beast. As long as we're not personally attacking anyone, the offense that will be taken will be impersonal--people will be offended that their ideas are deconstructed, but so what? Welcome to adulthood. It will happen to all of us, and that's the only way we can reach any reasonable conclusion. I just think it's foolish to try to keep everyone's temper and excitement at a stagnant level. And let me say--I'm not talking full fledged tantrums or screaming. Obviously, that behavior would be out of line. But in my recent experience, any argument that became slightly heated and tense was treated like a code red, which is simply ridiculous. We're college students, we're not kindergarteners. Is anyone really going to cry and pout if their idea doesn't work? If someone is, then please leave the discussion (and possibly college) and come back when you've grown up a wee bit, deary. If someone says something that provokes a response from me, I'm not going to wait 30 seconds to process their comment--I've already processed it, and I've got something to say to expound or contradict. Don't cut me off when I'm simply furthering a needed conversation. We're not Carebears. We aren't obligated to be all chill and huggy. We can be respectful without walking and talking on tiptoe. I'm not attacking anyone specifically--I've just noticed this phenomenon in a lot of my classes, and it's really "gotten my goat." So give me back my goat.
III.
The Weepies, The Bird and the Bee, and Gregory and the Hawk are all excellent bands, newly discovered by yours truly, and I'd like to pass them on. I discovered The Weepies a while back, but I've now heard more of their songs, thus falling deeper in love.
IV.
I've become more and more fascinated with sociology and anthropology as of late. Talking to Alex at lunch today, we decided we should combine my current irritation for people's bizarre tendencies with my desire to study individuals, thus coming up with a new field: Misanthropology. The study of human beings that are hard to like--we (Alex and myself) would cover a wide spectrum of the human race, objectively deciphering what it is exactly about person A, F, and Z that makes them unlikable. I think it's gonna be big. Stay tuned.
V.
In same discussion, we concluded that South Park is Brechtian.
VI.
That is all.
VII.
I prefer to end on a seven.
Monday, March 16, 2009
I can be alone, yeah, I can watch the sunset on my own
Hello friends!
Today is a beautiful day. I woke up this morning and heard birds chirping--I love spring. I really just do. I used to love winter as a child, but as I've gotten older, I now hate being cold with a fiery (or should I say frozen?) passion.
I'm feeling extremely content today, but I'm also feeling extremely strange, and a little sad. That's the beauty of being human, eh? We can feel a cornucopia of emotions, all at once.
I know I started this blog with the intent to be an objective journalist, but I've never been a journalist. I've always been a pour out my thoughts and feelings gal. I promise this blog won't spiral into a xanga, but I do want to address something--a big life changin' decision I've made in the last three or four weeks--that some of you may have questions about.
I have been doing theatre for... well, for almost as long as I can remember. I did my first musical in third grade (Joseph and his coat, of course), and I've been performing in this or that ever since. In high school, I was in every play we did from frosh year to senior year, and I did speech team too, but I only did the "acting" events, if you will. Then, I went on to college and majored in Theatre Performance, and I was extremely successful as a frosh and for the following three years. I spent all of my summers doing something theatre related--Children's theatre, SSTC intern, and of course, my wonderful NYC adventure. Although I have had a minor in creative writing, most of my classes have been theatre classes. I have not regretted any of these decisions--I have LOVED all the theatre I did for some reason or another--I have learned, I have grown, I have been miserable, and I have been ecstatic. I was incredibly blessed to have such wonderful opportunities to hone my craft, and I will be forever grateful for that.
That said.
I have not had a break from theatre....since I started theatre. I've had little breaks here and there, but every fiber of my being has been focused on theatre for a very, very long time. I do not think this is a bad thing at all--quite the opposite. However, I believe I need a break in a big, big way.
When I abroad to London over J-term, I caught the travel bug. And when I didn't get any callbacks at Midwest, I stepped back and re-evaluated what I should do. Sidenote--this may read like I am "giving up" on theatre because of some rejection, but if you read the rest, I hope you realize that that is exactly the opposite of what I am doing. I simply watched a few doors close in front of me, and looked for the nearest new, open door. And while I was scanning the metaphorical hallway, I saw a distant door, an overseas door, and I knew, then, that I wanted to travel. It dawned on me-- there is a world, a whole beautiful and ugly and fascinating world outside of my ambition, outside of my career, and outside of theatre. One of my professors has often said that life experience makes an actor great, and not class after class after class. I have plenty of life experience, but I am only 21, and I have only lived in the US. I have met a very small percentage (extremely small) percentage of the world, of other cultures, and I have seen a very small percentage of what there is to see.
For the past 8-12 years, I have been on one path--the theatre career or bust path--and instead of continuing on this path blindly, I am stepping off of it for a year. I do not want to simply continue something just because I "always knew I would." There is a lot I don't know about myself, as well as the world, and I want to take some time to explore the world around me before I buckle down and knuckle down and all systems go.
This September, I will be traveling to Auckland, New Zealand and I will live there for 12 months. Through a program called BUNAC, I will get a work visa and I will arrive in the country, get a job-whatever I can find-and an apartment, and I will simply exist and live and explore in Auckland, New Zealand. After six months, I will move down to Southern New Zealand, and live in Christchurch, a city in the southern part. My primary goal living abroad will be to make money to support myself during my stay, travel, meet people, and meet more parts of myself.
My biggest concern making this decision was not, in fact, myself--it was others. I was very concerned that my teachers, mentors, friends, colleagues, would feel I was "giving up" on theatre, or "quitting." Having never been a quitter even in the loosest sense, this terrified me. I was also afraid (and will admit to being still a little afraid) that I will come back after this adventure and not be able to make a career for myself because I have been gone. This has proved to be an irrational fear, as theatre isn't going anywhere, and a dose of perspective and an exciting experience can only help my acting abilities, let alone hone and focus my knowledge of what it is I truly want out of my life and my career. At this point of my life, I fully intend to return to the States after 12 months, move to Chicago, and begin a career in performance-theatre, improv, and stand-up comedy. Some of you have asked about my stand-up career--first of all, it doesn't exist yet, but it will :) And I fully intend to try out some of my stand-up in NZ. I am sure there are plenty of cultural and tourist jokes I can make at my own expense--and if I fail, then I fail. Ultimately, since I have made this decision, and since Cloud Nine (which I loved) has closed, I have felt happier than I have felt in a long time. I chalk this up to a few factors--1. I'm not taking a lot of classes, so I am not stressed, 2. the show went wonderfully, 3. it is Spring, and 4. I am almost done with college. It is no secret that BU and I have had a rocky relationship, and being in the homestretch does put a song in my heart. However, I know there is another factor, and that is my upcoming freedom--everyday, I feel more and more comfortable and sure about this decision. The thought of moving to Chicago right now, the thought of being in another show at this point in my life, gives me a headache. I am taking this break, and it has taken me awhile to not feel guilty about this decision--I'll admit that I wouldn't be writing this letter if I didn't feel I had to justify myself in some way. But at the end of the day, I have to listen to me--to my head, and to my heart, and they're both saying, "Go."
It has also been brought up to me that I may hate New Zealand. What if I get there and I don't find answers or happiness or freedom or it sucks? Those are all very probable. I do not expect anything from this trip other than change. I am constantly searching in my life, whether I'm in Peoria or some foreign land. As cliche as this sounds--it really is about the journey. If I hate it, great--I'll have learned something. All I know is I'm going--I will make it happen (unless they turn down my visa, which is out of my control) and I will come back the better for it, regardless of what happens while I'm there.
I am very excited/scared about this decision and this trip of mine, and I can only hope that all of you will support me, but I'm doing this for myself, so if you don't, you don't.
I just figured it was time I wrote out a why and wherefore, to answer any questions.
It won't be easy, but as they say, nothing worth doing ever is.
Blessings on all your heads--
Sarah M. Duncan
Today is a beautiful day. I woke up this morning and heard birds chirping--I love spring. I really just do. I used to love winter as a child, but as I've gotten older, I now hate being cold with a fiery (or should I say frozen?) passion.
I'm feeling extremely content today, but I'm also feeling extremely strange, and a little sad. That's the beauty of being human, eh? We can feel a cornucopia of emotions, all at once.
I know I started this blog with the intent to be an objective journalist, but I've never been a journalist. I've always been a pour out my thoughts and feelings gal. I promise this blog won't spiral into a xanga, but I do want to address something--a big life changin' decision I've made in the last three or four weeks--that some of you may have questions about.
I have been doing theatre for... well, for almost as long as I can remember. I did my first musical in third grade (Joseph and his coat, of course), and I've been performing in this or that ever since. In high school, I was in every play we did from frosh year to senior year, and I did speech team too, but I only did the "acting" events, if you will. Then, I went on to college and majored in Theatre Performance, and I was extremely successful as a frosh and for the following three years. I spent all of my summers doing something theatre related--Children's theatre, SSTC intern, and of course, my wonderful NYC adventure. Although I have had a minor in creative writing, most of my classes have been theatre classes. I have not regretted any of these decisions--I have LOVED all the theatre I did for some reason or another--I have learned, I have grown, I have been miserable, and I have been ecstatic. I was incredibly blessed to have such wonderful opportunities to hone my craft, and I will be forever grateful for that.
That said.
I have not had a break from theatre....since I started theatre. I've had little breaks here and there, but every fiber of my being has been focused on theatre for a very, very long time. I do not think this is a bad thing at all--quite the opposite. However, I believe I need a break in a big, big way.
When I abroad to London over J-term, I caught the travel bug. And when I didn't get any callbacks at Midwest, I stepped back and re-evaluated what I should do. Sidenote--this may read like I am "giving up" on theatre because of some rejection, but if you read the rest, I hope you realize that that is exactly the opposite of what I am doing. I simply watched a few doors close in front of me, and looked for the nearest new, open door. And while I was scanning the metaphorical hallway, I saw a distant door, an overseas door, and I knew, then, that I wanted to travel. It dawned on me-- there is a world, a whole beautiful and ugly and fascinating world outside of my ambition, outside of my career, and outside of theatre. One of my professors has often said that life experience makes an actor great, and not class after class after class. I have plenty of life experience, but I am only 21, and I have only lived in the US. I have met a very small percentage (extremely small) percentage of the world, of other cultures, and I have seen a very small percentage of what there is to see.
For the past 8-12 years, I have been on one path--the theatre career or bust path--and instead of continuing on this path blindly, I am stepping off of it for a year. I do not want to simply continue something just because I "always knew I would." There is a lot I don't know about myself, as well as the world, and I want to take some time to explore the world around me before I buckle down and knuckle down and all systems go.
This September, I will be traveling to Auckland, New Zealand and I will live there for 12 months. Through a program called BUNAC, I will get a work visa and I will arrive in the country, get a job-whatever I can find-and an apartment, and I will simply exist and live and explore in Auckland, New Zealand. After six months, I will move down to Southern New Zealand, and live in Christchurch, a city in the southern part. My primary goal living abroad will be to make money to support myself during my stay, travel, meet people, and meet more parts of myself.
My biggest concern making this decision was not, in fact, myself--it was others. I was very concerned that my teachers, mentors, friends, colleagues, would feel I was "giving up" on theatre, or "quitting." Having never been a quitter even in the loosest sense, this terrified me. I was also afraid (and will admit to being still a little afraid) that I will come back after this adventure and not be able to make a career for myself because I have been gone. This has proved to be an irrational fear, as theatre isn't going anywhere, and a dose of perspective and an exciting experience can only help my acting abilities, let alone hone and focus my knowledge of what it is I truly want out of my life and my career. At this point of my life, I fully intend to return to the States after 12 months, move to Chicago, and begin a career in performance-theatre, improv, and stand-up comedy. Some of you have asked about my stand-up career--first of all, it doesn't exist yet, but it will :) And I fully intend to try out some of my stand-up in NZ. I am sure there are plenty of cultural and tourist jokes I can make at my own expense--and if I fail, then I fail. Ultimately, since I have made this decision, and since Cloud Nine (which I loved) has closed, I have felt happier than I have felt in a long time. I chalk this up to a few factors--1. I'm not taking a lot of classes, so I am not stressed, 2. the show went wonderfully, 3. it is Spring, and 4. I am almost done with college. It is no secret that BU and I have had a rocky relationship, and being in the homestretch does put a song in my heart. However, I know there is another factor, and that is my upcoming freedom--everyday, I feel more and more comfortable and sure about this decision. The thought of moving to Chicago right now, the thought of being in another show at this point in my life, gives me a headache. I am taking this break, and it has taken me awhile to not feel guilty about this decision--I'll admit that I wouldn't be writing this letter if I didn't feel I had to justify myself in some way. But at the end of the day, I have to listen to me--to my head, and to my heart, and they're both saying, "Go."
It has also been brought up to me that I may hate New Zealand. What if I get there and I don't find answers or happiness or freedom or it sucks? Those are all very probable. I do not expect anything from this trip other than change. I am constantly searching in my life, whether I'm in Peoria or some foreign land. As cliche as this sounds--it really is about the journey. If I hate it, great--I'll have learned something. All I know is I'm going--I will make it happen (unless they turn down my visa, which is out of my control) and I will come back the better for it, regardless of what happens while I'm there.
I am very excited/scared about this decision and this trip of mine, and I can only hope that all of you will support me, but I'm doing this for myself, so if you don't, you don't.
I just figured it was time I wrote out a why and wherefore, to answer any questions.
It won't be easy, but as they say, nothing worth doing ever is.
Blessings on all your heads--
Sarah M. Duncan
Monday, March 2, 2009
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