Saturday, February 27, 2010

Damn umbrella

The events that occur when you use an umbrella today...
are the same that occurred when you were a child.

First you pick it up and shake it, watching the water from the last outing fall onto the ground, for some reason being sort of entertained by the whole thing.

Second, you cringe and push from the bottom up, anticipating your right thumb being pinched by the cold metal.

Once it's up and clasped, or so you think, you slightly cringe as the wind picks up, in new found anticipation of this shield above your dry head violently turning inside-out. Inevitably it happens leaving you in a frantic attempt to pull it back into it's original form.

As you take 2 minutes too long to find and pull out your keys to enter either your vehicle or home, the clasp which was seemingly secure at the top of the prop, now gives and allows the peice to slip half way down the pole, with a now folded miniature tent coming down onto your head. You should find that it is difficult to push it back up, since your left hand is holding the grip of the umbrella (with all your might) and the right hand is occupied by wet keys.

Because you now have the entire top portion of this spectacular invention resting on your head, your hair gets caught, even in the mere seconds its been lying there, on the metal wires which go from the outside to the center of the umbrella...the center that always ends up on the center of your head.

You get inside, take a sigh of relief and realize you are...wet.

Also, you now have a very wet object that you'll need to put somewhere, to either soak your front passenger side mat or your travertine floors.
Stay dry San Diegans!

Thursday, February 25, 2010


you gotta bend the on the edge...shake things up...stop at Starbucks even though you're running late.

It was one of those wild days with all the bending, living, shaking, and stopping.

I find that when my week is wild, I must be the yin to its yang, planning accordingly, thinking ahead, all those totally unnatural, inorganic things. For starters, my electricity was shut off for 3 days, not because I forgot to pay the bill, but because my landlord is in fact a drug that does things that make no sense whatsoever and make you wonder, "Is she on DRUGS!?!" The answer is Yes. Yes she is on drugs. It happens to be one of those situations where in a "let me share my wisdom with you" sorta tone you explain out loud, "Ya know...ya just gotta pick your battles sometimes." With our apartment building being converted into condos, there is much to do, at least for Bob and George the maintenance men. Drug lord thinks it is acceptable to turn off the electricity, even though codes upon codes which the other aggressive female in my building and I have diplomatically shared with DL say she CANNOT. You can look it up, it's dually noted! This may seem like a small inconvenience, so you have to couch surf for a few nights, get over it Princess! To that I say Nay, take into consideration that without electricity there is no power to run your fridge, hot water, etcetra etcetra! See where this is going? As if I showered enough WITH the luxury of hot water!

Acting as the yin, I prepared my lunches for the entire week to take to work early Monday morning, and packed up the perishable grocery items I'd need for two significant reasons: 1) So that I didn't mentally freak out in regards to wasting food, and money in a less direct sense and 2) So that I didn't eat dirty burritos every night away from my kitchen, stayin the course on the health nut kick. I arrived to work early every day this week, prepared with the standard day's materials (laptop bag that makes me appear totally legit AND 10 lb. black hole I call a purse) along with the many, many items needed for my latest work task...involving but certainly not limited to raising enough funds for 17 middle school girls to very practically learn yoga, art and writing.

All this on-top-of-everythingness left me jonesin' for some rule bending, edge living, things shaking upward behavior. After my morning meeting, I left campus to gas up the 8 passenger van I'd used the night prior for said fundraiser. I knew in my gut (which is getting smaller by the way) that I did NOT have time anything really, before my 9:15 commitment to a coworker. the spirit of logic, I stopped at Starbucks. You might ask, "What is wrong with you" or maybe, "What's your deal?" (to sound a little less judgey). My DEAL is that I'm a WILD thang! You never know when an Americano/Bran muffin combination is going to be interceding in my plans, baby! There's just no tellin'.

Did it all work out? At the end of the day, it did. Did I rush inside flustered to find waiting coworker peeved and quasi-yelling at me? Eventually I did....

But not before the satisfying taste of espresso on my tongue.

Wild Thang.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Midnight Velvet

I recently noticed a catalogue that has been sent to my house. Either my roommate is a closet weirdo or I have a few questions for Mrs. Kilrain who lived here pre-November.

Midnight Velvet carries many a product. They sell everything from wall sconses with engraved churchy sayings to "Chocolate Passion Powder" and crushed velvet jump suits. I immediately wonder what individual has needs for all of these products.


Is this week over yet?

...In fact, forget about this week, let's just get through these measly 28 days already. I mean, who isn't looking forward to celebrating St Patty with their festive green tube top?
I am just so ready for this month to be over, I believe that March vibes are more promising.

This past week (which led to my rant against the month of February) made me realize what necessary evils tend to wear me out...including but certainly not limited to:

6am "hot" yoga sesh before work.
Exhibiting my students' projects for parents, coworkers and other passersby.
Lots of cooking (cooking at home tends to be lighter on the kcals, bathing suit season IS right around the corner...that thought wears on me as well)
Keeping up on bills...and laundry
Working on a Saturday.
Having to repaint my nails over and over again because chipped polish makes me feel like a hobo.
Straightening my sinful amount of hair.
Getting junior highers to be somewhat independent.
Grocery shopping (back to the slue of cooking/bathing suit thoughts)
Morning meetings.
Females actin' a fool (and no I'm not referring to those still left on The Bachelor, in the interest of time I've decided to leave that to another post)
And quite possibly the fact that it's one o'clock in the morning.

Good night you.

Note: At my Christian, pardon me NAZARENE, university our Chaplin (chapel being another necessary evil) used to bring his sermon to a sudden halt and whisper into his microphone, "Students...(long pause) you." Although it was a bit creepy, I found it endearing. Look who's the creep now!


Friday, February 12, 2010

You will be "closed" if...

Am I psychic or what? I told you I saw this in my (and your) near future... lucky for you I'm a woman of my word, at least on Fridays.

Being "closed" is the online dating world equivalent to going on a first date and never being contacted again. Obviously you just didn't make the cut. The advantage to this equivalent is that 1. You don't have the joy of having been in the awkward, obviously unsuccessful first date scenario 2. You'll never have to see that person (or "match" rather) again since well, you've never really seen them at all 3. The unsuccessful match has no legitimate information about you, in other words, no need to block their number, watch your back while walking from the carport to your front door, I think you get the picture. Are you seeing the amazing possibilities here with a more digital approach?

When it comes to my personal Eharm adventure, bachelors beware, you will be "closed" if...

A. Your default (or even one of your photos) includes you fist pumping in a bar that resembles any establishment in PB.
B. You have "smoking" even "once a year" on your profile...and yes, this is a "category." Gross.
C. A photo anywhere on your profile (or in the world) includes you wearing a fidora...unless you're Justin Timberlake, which is relatively unlikely.
D. Your "What you're looking for" portion is all about...YOU. Something to the effect of "Most importantly, I am looking for someone who wants to get to know ME and loves ME for who I am." No thanks...Clearly you aren't aware that it should be all about ME!
E. Your hobbies include going to the river (a little W.T. dontcha think), or watching Television (you should be at least pretending not to be a couch potato like the rest of us!)
F. You're under's just not gonna happen. Sorry. I want me a MAN!
G. You don't mention "loving life," "living each day to the fullest" and other like optomistic statements. It's just not going to work. Me likey positivity.
H. In a totally un-shallow have a bowl cut with a middle part. ummm...

I think these are all reasonable requirements don't you?

Much Love,
Bachelorette Sara

Monday, February 8, 2010

It all started with Identity Theft...

I don't even know where to begin. What I know for certain, is that there will be a lot MORE where this came from...

Part I

It all began with a dream, nightmare really. Perhaps translating to anxiety in my dating life (what dating life?) Anyway, I dreamt the following:

I had joined Eharmony. I was on a date and the datee for some reason had his entire family there. They were all very excited to meet me and his mother and aunt specifically were very smitten with me (ah thank you.) They had read some of my writing and fallen in love ;) Anyway, I wasn't exactly feelin it with the datee, what else is new. As I attempted to flee, he aggressively questioned me. "We're going out again right? I mean, you're not going to 'close' me are you?" You see, on The Eharm, you don't run a typical phase-out by ignoring phone calls, or any clear cut things like that, instead you have the option to "close" your "communication" with the prospect...hopefully up until that point you've been wise, keeping where you live out of the "communication." Safety first, always. Back to the dream: I found a way to leave, basically mumbling and nervously laughing in an effort to avoid the obvious answer to his question. That part of the dream wasn't too unrealistic I guess. Yea, I'm awkward. So, creepy Eharm guy sent two of his friends to follow me once I'd left! Before you know it I'm in a bar in OB, also not too far from reality, and these two creepers find a way to steal my identity! They threatened to steal my sweet Grandma Lou's as well! Honestly, who has Eharmony Identity Theft dreams???? Apparently I do.

Part II

There's always that friend or coworker who is out to prove something "works," leaving one thinking there is no way she can NOT do what they did...she just has to buy that vegetable chopper! She cannot live another day without buying those practical work shoes!
Or in this case...She absolutely MUST join Eharmony!

That's right, I joined Eharmony.

I'm not exactly on the prowl at the moment. I say "prowl" on purpose. I know it is a bit of a harsh word, this is the intent. When someone (a woman specifically) is on the prowl, they mean business, no messin' around. If they're "on the prowl" for men, they're not just in the market for one...they're hunting one down! Like animals. There's a reason a certain niche of females are called cougars! As I said, this does not describe my current state of mind, although I will admit to having been there a time or two...okay probably just one.
Right now, when I picture the next season of life (literally a season. I picture summer which is upon us in 3-4 months) I don't see a man in my life, instead I see a woman! Okay not really. You just thought this blog was taking quite the turn. False. I'm not that exciting. I think you know what I mean though, I see myself SINGLE. I'm riding "Baby Blue" the beach cruiser (remember only crazy people name inanimate objects) down the streets of OB, hanging out in coffee shops, hitting the beach, maybe breakin a few hearts (I'm totally kidding about the breakin' hearts part, it just seemed to flow with the rest of the list, I got carried away). All that to say I just don't assume that I'll be in a relationship, not because I'm trying to avoid an unmet expectation (oh the fun of self guarding) but because I'm really just fine without one.

Then a few things (stacked on top of each other like the cheese squares Gus-Gus tries to score in Cinderella) occurred, or rather had been occurring. First, I got sick. Ya know what happens when you get sick? (Aside from being offered random drugs, seeing dogs hanging out at the Dr's office etc) start to feel vulnerable! Yes, vulnerable. You wish there was SOMEONE out there that was obligated to bring you Gatorade. I think Gatorade is best for the flu, not the sinus infection I had, but I just really like Gatorade. That's neither here nor there. The point is you want someone to take care of you! Your friends offer but you know what they're thinking..."I hope she doesn't give whatever she has to ME. I don't have any more sick days. I'll throw out the 'can I bring you anything?' but hopefully she'll say NO!" Not that I don't have fabulous friends, because I do. But the thing is, we all think that way from time to time (most of the time in some cases). But when you're in a relationship, not to be confused with a relationshit, you HAVE TO do that stuff! You're obligated to! At least you are in my book. So, the thought began to trickle into my head...I suppose a relationship might be nice.

Then there's the fact that I've been watching "The Bachelor." This isn't going where you think it might. I don't watch it and wish I was one of those "lucky" girls that's "on the wings of love" with Jake the Pilot. I watch and think to myself....EEK! What is all the hype with corny, cliche men? For crying out loud, I just want someone to buy me a fruit punch flavored sports drink! Simultaneously, as "The Bach" is an 8-week long program, I find myself out and about in my beloved town Ocean Beach. Prospects here: Stoners....or hobos. Extremes rush over me like last week's fever and all of the sudden I am certain that my only options in the realm of men are LAME or LAMER! (Are you tired yet?)

If I could just find a way to sift through all the losers (harsh I know), phony christians (sinful but unavoidably true), and cliche girly men (I'm sort of a biatch) and get what I'm looking for out there...

You mean like on a site that does all of that for you AND matches you on 29 dimensions of compatibility?

Wait a minute.

And thus, we await to see if I do in fact find Harmony.

If nothing else, I will continue with my plans of riding Baby Blue solo and have a hell of a lot more material for all of you to read ;) I already see the following posts in my future...

"You know I'm 'closing' you when..."
"If I can't read your name, you're too foreign"
"If your top 5 things you can't live without include Spell Check, I WILL assume you're dumb"

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Apparently I'm not a hippy

Total shocker that my doctor's office in Ob runs an hour behind without any apologies...or any information at all really.
The receptionist, who by the way answers the phone in more than a "six inch voice," tells the more outspoken annoyed female in the room that if she wants she can reschedule. She has no idea when the dr will be done. Notice there is no apology included in that statement at all? She should at least be apologizing for her booming voice! I get easily irritated when I'm ill. Have you noticed?
There's a random dog in the waiting room, normal things. Perhaps if the situation were less frustrating (like my appt was only the normal 15 minutes late and everyone's voices were of average decimals) I would be happy to pet this k9. However the circumstances leave me to nothing more than introverted activities on guessed it, iPhone. Lucky for you my new blogging app allows me to share these wonderful circumstances and negative current outlook with the world!
So although I'm not as obviously annoyed as the "outspoken annoyed girl" it's still clear to me that I'm not a hippy, at least not as hardcore of one. Turns out I like sticking to schedule and not waiting an HOUR! Uptight much? Yes today I am.
I mean really, just cuz we're all supposed to be "laid back" doesn't mean I don't want good service.
And now there are two dogs in the waiting room...and the loud-ass receptionist is ordering the office lunch for us all to hear. Guess what Jodi, we don't care about the extra eggrolls and you are too fricken LOUD!

Breathe Sara. Even if it makes you hear the sound of your flem!

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

The thing about shopping is...

it's awesome.

Although to some this may seem obvious. It became apparent to me rather recently. Some of us are slower at learning things.

Interestingly enough, I hate (feel free to substitute the word loathe if you're feeling dramatic) malls. I don't even like going to the movies or restaurants that are located at malls. I'll compromise from time to time when social situations are at risk, but in a perfect world I would never have to visit these evil locations. Summer '09: The quest to stay on top of bills, one of my 5 jobs was at Nordstrom, for about 2 weeks. It was luckily a short period of time since I was hired as extra help for their annual sale. Had it been longer than that mere 14 days, I may have sworn off Nordi's for life. A true miracle at work.

Finding places outside of malls to fulfill my shopping cravings (mild and seldom cravings of course, balance is one of my strengths) is quite easy. I generally stick to moderately priced beach boutiques...and by that I mean cheap stores owned by Asians, in OB. They happen to be right in my geographic and financial range. Why wouldn't I stop in and take a look after my Saturday morning (okay afternoon) jont to get coffee? I can also find unique things in these "boutiques" that others won't have, mostly because they're not purchased from a sub-par "mall" store. The way I say mall is similar to the way I say Sharon...and the tone of Jerry Seinfeld's greeting for Newman.
Last weekend I found myself shopping in downtown San Diego, at Horton Plaza you ask? No. That would be a mall. Obviously I find the downtown stores outside of the mall much more appealing. As I walked down the street, with sky scrapers surrounding me, just for a second...I pretended to be Carrie Bradshaw (embarrassing. Don't act like it's never crossed your mind). In reality, although I'm not a 30-something single living in Manhattan, I found such joy carrying my shopping bags, along with my fake Coach bag, through town taking it all in and appreciating the culture. Not even minor harassment from a hobo got me down. In fact, I didn't even want to retaliate until later that day. Sometimes my slowness is beneficial for others.

If I had to articulate how shopping makes me feel, which seems like the whole point right now, I would say this: Shopping makes me feel independent; using my own skrill to make purchases and not having to tell anyone about it (except for all of you) It makes me hopeful; for upcoming fun events where I can wear my newly purchased garments. It makes me happy; duh. It brings about a feeling of productivity and efficiency; I often find great things for great prices in less than 2 hours!

Long story short, Life is good. And so is shopping.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Only take candy from strangers

Within minutes...I've got a sore throat, headache, achy body and the chills (when I'm almost always the sweaty girl). I've gotten my usual February sinus infection. Yes my body and immune system are high maintenance. Last year it hit on Valentines' Day, which was such a bummer for all the eligible bachelors trying to take me out. This year it came a little earlier, right after a quirky student gave me a sheet of paper posing as a lab report with "immunizations" on it (long story which ends in a courtesy laugh and new addition to the refrigerator door).

After a 15 hour bed sesh, not as fun as it sounds, I got up to let the apartment maintenance guy in to fix our warped side door. Apparently there isn't anything in San Diego that can handle rain! I told him I was sick (as if my haggard appearance didn't speak volumes) and went back to sleep while he worked.

About 30 minutes later I woke up to the ridiculous noise of the apartment above me being "demo-ed" and the man fixing my door yelling, "hello?!" over and over again. I stumbled out into the living room.

With a miniature bottle of Advil in his hand...and broken English:
"You need this?"
"Oh no thank you, I have...medicine."
"You say you are sick. So I go to get this out of my car."

Although I appreciate the offer, I don't take pills from strangers...just candy.