A loss of momentum

What is it about winter? I'll tell you.

  1. It's cold.
  2. It's messy.
  3. It takes forever to get from point A to point B.
  4. All you want to do is stay in and be a sloth.
  5. The exposure to inspiration drops to an all-time low.
  6. I eat pizza allll the time.
  7. I don't exercise.

I think that's enough to bring someone's spirits down. Keep in mind, I recognize my own first world problems. And yes, this isn't Russia. Therefor my toilets work, winter won't be forever and we have bourbon instead of vodka. I'll be okay.

But this particular winter has made me not only a believer in SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), but also a self-diagnosed sufferer.

 

Dear Sun,

When again will I bask in thine glory? When again will my dog's walks not end when he starts to lick his paws? When will I be able to frolic through the polluted city air and rid myself of these horrid muffin tops? WHEN?!

Genuinely yours... forever... upon your return, Sara

Do you ever?

Feel like you're nothing?

I go through phases. I either feel fantastic about my accomplishments or I feel as though I have zero accomplishments. It's one or the other; there is no middle ground, no gray area.

And all that's fine. I think most people go through times when they question themselves and wonder just what in the hell they're doing with their lives.

But here's the thing.

I still can't figure out what these impossible standards of mine mean. Why can't I let them go? Why can't I set my own standards from scratch? I want to set standards that have no memory, no history. I want to set standards for myself that are solid and real without guilt attached.

Should is a damned word.

But, I shouldn't feel as though I don't matter. And I shouldn't judge myself based on a fleeting feeling. And I shouldn't always be a swinging pendulum going from one extreme to another. And I shouldn't.

But I do.

Fresh start?

People never want to start over if things are going well. Because why would they? Starting over from zero is easier/better/more enticing than continuing on in the negative. So, a fresh start? What does that mean? It means that things have recently been overcooked, garbled and ultimately disappointing. So is a fresh start really what you’re looking for? Or are you looking in a panic for the do-over button? Are you looking for a time machine? Are you looking for a way to set things back to the way they were? Hubbell?

What are you looking for? For what are you looking? A way to end a question without preposition?

So what’s better? To start over or to try to make sense of the mess? The mess. How did it become a mess? How did it become a situation that has been deemed beyond repair? How did it become something that was unable to be fixed? Did it? Or did you all of a sudden become too weak?

There’s a breaking point. But it's a point of observation. It's a point at which you should investigate, study what the issues are and how to solve them. Not a point to actually break. Right?

Right?

But moving through is hard. Harder than staring over. Hence my point.

The easy way out isn't the best way out, most of the time. Who in the hell decided on that design? But it's good. It's a design that pushes us. It pushes us to be stronger and it pushes us to discover our own identity and it pushes us to find the limits of our potential.

But it's hard. It's never easy. But in the end, it's worth it.

Right?

***This rant excludes people who had something unimaginably terrible happen to them, including natural disasters, unexpected diseases/deaths, unfortunate loss, etc.

The night before I have to grow up

I turn 30 tomorrow. I don't know why, but it's kind of freaking me out. However, the thought of turning, say, 32 doesn't freak me out. But something about crossing that threshold is making me feel... je ne sais quoi. It's not quite melancholy and it's definitely not nostalgia. But it feels like I'm about to walk through a door and leave something behind.

"They" say that your 30s are better than your 20s because you know yourself (or at least better than before). I suppose that is inevitably true. I'm looking forward to that because my 20s have kind of felt like a hot mess at times. Who am I? Where am I going? What am I doing? Why am I doing this? Is it supposed to look like that? What's that smell? Etc. But I'm hopeful and optimistic that there will be less questions in the next decade. Either that or I hope that I choose not to let the unanswerable questions get me down.

So here I sit. I've done the dishes, the laundry is put away, the floor has been vacuumed, the dog has been walked and I'm responsibly enjoying a refreshing after-work beer. The big plan for my last night of my 20s? Watch some streaming television, read and turn in early.

And as for tomorrow? For the big day? I've taken off from work, having imagined that I would do something AMAZING! But I ended up scheduling an annual physical that I've missed for the past 7 years. Lame, right?

Naturally, however, there will be a delicious dinner, because what is getting older without a solid meal for which animals have given their lives so that I may enjoy their flesh?

I don't know. It feels like it's about to be big, but I know it's going to be anti-climactic and fizzle out without much ado. Which is the best I could hope for, I guess.

But I still can't shake this feeling. Maybe it's indigestion.

Progress?

 

So, what’s it going to be? There’s something that I want to write, but I’m not exactly sure what that’s going to be yet. There are a lot of things that I need to say and there are a lot of things that need to be understood. But I’m not sure I’m ready yet and I’m not sure I’m there yet.

Maybe if I had had more support growing up and maybe if I had any sense of developed self-esteem, things would have turned out differently. And when I say maybe, I mean definitely. What happens when you grow up being the safety net for those who are supposed to be spending their time being your safety net? What happens if you grow up listening and never being heard? What happens when you grow up meant to feel guilty for anything having to do with self-identity?

You grow into the empty shell you were brought up to be.

The journey to finding myself has been a constant in my life. I’ve never quite been there, never reached the end goal. I’ve never been able to stand up and say, “I am ______.” Because I’m still figuring that out. And even if I think that I have an answer, chances are I’m too much of a yellow-belly to say so. Fear of judgment, fear of rejection, fear of love.

So who am I? I am a crier, a feeler, a flighter. I am an artist, a writer and a reader. I am a cheese lover, a beer lover and a lover. I’m a laugher and a joker and a midnight… omelet maker.

But I’m still lost. And I’m still searching. And I’m still trying to get used to it. And I’m still trying to let myself out and let myself be. And most of all – and most importantly of all – I’m still trying to like me.

I say neigh

I’m ambivalent when it comes to horses. There’s always that girl or two in grade school that think that horses are the tits. I don’t know if Lisa Frank is still rocking it with school supplies – probably not – but the Horse Girls were always into that and the occasional dolphin scene.

Riding horses isn’t a talent that comes naturally. There seems to be a rhythm that you can’t immediately sync up with, like hearing some new form of music. And the downfall (hell, punishment) to not being able to catch on and move simultaneously with the manuring beast is getting racked in the crotch repetitively until you either get it or give up. It’s trial by crotch is what it is.

People think horses to be noble creatures. And I guess they are. But I have a hard time trusting an animal that you’re supposed to feel with your palm straight to ensure it doesn’t confuse your finger with a carrot.

I say neigh.

Knowledge is power

I feel like maybe I've already used that title. But maybe it's just because I say that a lot. Or at least I think it a lot. You know when you get a new car (or whatever else you find this example pertains to) and from that moment on, you start seeing "your" car everywhere? Everyone has it, everyone's driving it. And you're wondering if they're copying you or you're copying them.

Not much has probably changed. Those folks likely already had that car. You're just seeing it now because it's an item that's familiar to you.

Take that to the next step to one of my all-time favorite topics: coincidence. This isn't necessarily about coincidence actually, but taking notice. (I don't know what it's going to focus around, but coincidence deserves a post of its own because it's fucking magical.)

So, taking notice. When you come into knowledge about something, you start seeing it reflect itself in details all around you. Something you might not have noticed last week now holds meaning because of an article you read or a documentary you watched. The world seems to be stimulating/interesting/fantastical.

Life can be as rich and intertwined or as dull and disjointed as you want it to be. Just like a job or school or anything, you get out of it what you put into it.

Feed Me

My e-neighbor

There’s a woman out there with an email address almost identical to mine. The only difference is that she spells it Sarah, and I spell it Sara. So occasionally we’ll forward emails back and forth to each other saying, “I think this is for you?” It’s like the electronic equivalent of dropping a piece of misdelivered mail off with your next door neighbor. It’s weird. I can tell that we’ve both decided that the other one isn’t a creep and we’d gladly water each other’s cyber-plants if one of us went on vacation.

Monopoly Menagerie

Headlines show that Hasbro has announced that the iron Monopoly game piece will be retired. What? This is terrible news!

So in the version we had growing up, purchased in the 80s, we had the iron, top hat, race car, dog, dude on a horse, wheelbarrow, thimble and boot. I typically wanted to be the dog, but that was the most frustrating piece to be, along with the wheelbarrow, because it always fell over when the dice rolled. So, it was just added anxiety for me that my poor little dog was dead. I switched sometimes to the boot because it was pretty awesome and rarely fell over.

But let’s talk about the iron. No, it’s not popular. In fact, it might be the only item on the Monopoly board that I actually find repugnant. It represents a dreaded chore, not to mention, in the imagination of a child, it’s hot to the touch. I would probably prefer the thimble over the iron. But on the plus side, it’s sturdy. Try to knock that bastard over, I dare you.

There’s a sense of history when you play Monopoly. Really? I can purchase property with $60? This must be the past! And what do you have in the past? Top hats, boots and irons!

So how did Hasbro decide to ax the iron? They let the general public run a popularity contest on the tokens. I just don't think that the general public is mature enough to exercise a democracy on board game tokens. That's right, I said it. Clearly poor judgment was shown when the little dog was voted the favorite. Who were they letting vote, 8 year old girls? I mean come on. This is nothing to be taken lightly and clearly those who voted didn't recognize all of the determining factors that go into a successful game token.

I know what some of you must be thinking. "Did you vote?" No. I didn't. So I shouldn't really have a voice in this whole debacle, should I?

It gets worse though.

Do you know what they're replacing the iron with? This was also put to a vote, a popularity contest.

A fucking cat.

(image courtesy of Hasbro)

If you own a cat, are you really playing Monopoly?

Okay. That was harsh. Cat owners are people too. Probably. On a case by case basis.

So there are four problems I see with the cat:

1) It's a cat.

2) It's unstable. Same problem as with the dog. A roll of the dice and Fluffy's going down.

3) The game of Monopoly already had its token animal, so to speak. What are we going to do next? Consider people who like fish or birds and take the thimble out of commission? Monopoly isn't the place for a ridiculous menagerie.

4) It's a cat.

In short, Hasbro should have learned the valuable lesson here to not give the people what they want, but to protect the legacy that is Monopoly. But you know what? I don't think they see it that way, not at all.

What a shame.