Life just goes along, with good things and bad things. Sometimes it's hard to find the meaning in an early morning argument or a sudden swell of self-pity, but that's all part of becoming aquainted with a world outside of school.

I don't know what's going to come next, but I'm not supposed to know. I saw a prayer the other day that said something along the lines of "Save me from a desire to know." That's what I need. To be saved from this overwhelming desire to have all the answers, that's what I want.

Actually, I've gotten better in the last few months. I can go for several weeks without this overwhelming cry from inside shouting, "What is my purpose?" It's not everyday anymore. That's a good thing.

It's not really an anniversary or anything, but I have now been at the same address for nearly six months.That's the first time in about five years that has happened...rejoice y'all, you don't have to program a new phone number into your cell phones!

Okay...staying positive.

The superbowl is this weekend, and I found some great recipes for nachos. I will post them next week if they are actually good - I don't want to vouch for something and have it turn out to be sucky.

I, for one, love the superbowl. It's gawdy and full of celebrity trash and a usually less-than stellar half-time show. For weeks after this huge American sporting event, everyone will be talking about, yes, that's right, THE COMMERCIALS.

Not that I don't love watching big guys beat each other up, but the commercials are by far the best part of the game. I look forward to muting the game, reading while the Panthers and the Patriots (see, I know who's playing) duke it out for the ring, and turning the sound up just in time for the latest trashy Coke commercial (although, Coke commercials are usually cheesy and heartwarming). PJs! Nachos! Mass production of popculture! Oh my! Some of my favorite things!

Seriously, I'm looking forward to this (and ya'll better have your butts in the living room with me...you know who I mean!).

Continuing with the theme of having my very own Pillow Book:

Things that matter:
*Singing, no matter if you can win American Idol
*Being able to drive home without falling asleep
*Being able to get to work without falling asleep
*Feeling like you are making a positive contribution to the world
*Having the heat on in the house, regardless of the PG&E bill :)
*God


Okay, that's it for today's installment!

Sarah's Pillow Book:
Things that make me smile

(an incomplete, but nonetheless fun to write, list):
(in no particular order)

*Knowing that Mommy will be waiting behind the door when I get home
*Thinking about what I want to name my future children
*Talking about oxygen and other fun stuff with Monica
*Outings with Jessica
*J.J.!
*Feeling the weight of Marley, solid and warm, at the end of my bed
*Waking up sometimes to find that he has curled himself into the nook of my arm and is sound asleep
*The smell of anything Italian coming from our kitchen (mmmm)
*Taking walks with Daddy
*Sprawling in front of the fire and being immersed in a good book
*For some reason...watching Sex and the City
*As far as reminiscing goes...remembering those nights spent in the black hole that is the dining room at AOII
*When Bailey (the dog) pushes his butt up against my legs and turns to look at me expectantly
*Timmy's meow
*Whenever Claudia squeezes in between two people and purrs as loud as can be
*London
*A slightly foggy, misty, damp, otherwise icky day when I don't have to go outside
*The smell of the world when the sun is shining after a day of rain
*The beach
*Seeing the smile on a friend's or relative's face when they are really happy
*That amazing warm feeling inside when I realize I am truly loved.

Oh, where ever to begin?

I complain a lot...that's my unique trait. It has occurred to me that I don't have much to say to people when I'm happy. I think that it's just a human characteristic to want to hear about the troubles of others - seriously, who wants to sit there and talk for hours about how GOOD life is?

Even women who are overflowing with joy and love at the birth of their children will choose, rather than to talk about the first smile, or that baby smell, to share the horrors (I mean wonders, of course) of gestation, labor, delivery, the post-partum physical stuff. That's what they'd rather talk about! Is that necessary?

But then, what do I have more fun talking to my friends about, the good dates or the bad dates? The bad dates are so much more amusing, and I think it keeps my friends entertained.

Here's a plan. I'll see how quickly this gets old. For the next week...so the next five postings, I will only talk about positive things.

Let's see how THAT goes!

Well, after yesterday's highly interesting and thought provoking entry (I'm sure!), it's very hard to follow up with something entertaining and, yes, I'll say it, wonderful. Okay, so OBVIOUSLY, I'm kidding.

Oh my. I have lots of thoughts rolling in my head right now. I'll ponder three of them.

1) I'm actually going to write some "test" articles for a weblogging company that will pay me (well...it's a start up, so the payment will take a while). The subject: Dating. Now, up until this moment, I have had oodles and oodles of things to say on the subject. Of course, when it comes down to having to write some actual articles, I'm having a massive brain fart. Should I write about online dating? Perhaps I should include my musings on being a third wheel? Thoughts?

2) The other thing in my head right now is that I am enjoying taking things VERY slowly in online dating at the moment. Maybe I'm writing back and forth with someone, maybe not, the whole world doesn't need to know, but for once, I can appreciate going slow (I go back and forth between wanting a guy who will commit and wanting someone who is a little less caught up in the moment).

3) My hair. I have an essay on this that I wrote for a creative writing class. It's called, "My hair is wild and wavy." Today it's a bit more of both than usual, and it leads me to the question that's been rolling around in my head for a couple of weeks now: Where did this hair come from? My dad, if he let his hair grow out, which, thankfully, he doesn't, would have hair like mine. So, I know that I got it from him. Same color. Same texture. Same tendency to have "cowlicks" (as I used to think they were called, maybe they are, are they?). Same weird wavy thing goin'on. But where did he get it? The Irish can have curly hair, and my grandma's Irish, but my dad claims to have it from his father, who is, according to family lore, 100% Polish. Now, where did a Pole get wavy hair? I've been watching The Decalogue, a set of Polish films on the Ten Commandments, and none of those people have curly hair. So, where did a set of supposedly Catholic, Polish people get wavy, bordering on curly, bording on almost turning into dreadlocks at times, wavy hair in their genes? I have some theories, but I'd rather just ask the question. I mean, I already know that the blondes mysteriously turn to brunettes as they age, but the curly hair...well, no one has explained that to me yet.

On another note...where the HECK did I get my nose? Would someone please show me another member of my family with this nose??

Okay, I'm done.

There are some people who are just too interesting to know.

I like to pretend that I am an interesting person. I have "hobbies" and follow certain "issues," but the fact is, I'm a bit too caught up in popular culture to be all that interesting on my own. I prefer to spend time with others like me, who have very diverse interests and always seem worried about something, but they are not, necessarily "experts" at anything (yet...hey, we're young...we've got time). I can't handle people who are too successful at a young age. It makes me feel not only bad about my own lack of accomplishments but awkward at attempting to engage someone in conversation.

I thought I recognized his face when he tried to open the door. When I buzzed him in, I was certain. When I asked him his name (to tell the person he was here to see), it was confirmed. Before me stood, without a trace of recognition in his eyes, the semi-arty, curly-haired, brown eyed (you can sense where this is going, I'm sure), former tutor I had a crush on waaaaaaayyy back in Sophomore year. The crush ended when I asked him to attend an event with me, he said he might, then decided he wouldn't. It was awkward. I was extremely awkward then, having no real sense of what it means to ask a guy out, what it means to be a "woman." I hadn't seen him in almost 4 years. Still, I knew it was him. I was about to ask him (innocently, pretending as if I wasn't completely sure) if he had tutored a few years ago. Then, the memory of the stumbling and asking and fumbling awkward person that was me popped into my head, and I realized that I wanted nothing to do with her. We exchanged pleasant banter about why the door is locked (have to use a buzzer to get in), the seemingly lower intelligence of today's Freshman (some of whom couldn't find the Athletic Ticket Office if graduation depended on it), but I didn't bring up what I knew...

As I listened in (not evesdropping so much as overhearing) on the conversation he had with my colleague, I realized that the guy is an accomplished photographer who spent two years working in a laundromat, documenting the "social and cultural" happenings. He's been well received for his work in both black and white and color photography. He has moved from semi-arty to truly arty, all while maintaining his ability to bathe, comb his (still curly) hair and dress in stylish clothing (does that mean he's not allowed to be arty...just artistic?). In any case, listening to him talk, I realized that he is too involved in his work. All he could do was talk about "culture" and read aloud what critics said about his work (okay, so maybe "caught up in himself" is the phrase I'm looking for here, rather than interesting).

Not that I actually made a conscious decision to avoid talking to him, but the boy served a symbol for me. I don't have to go back to the past. I don't have to talk to people whom I will never "get" and who will never "get" me. His appearance here, after four years, didn't mean that I was supposed to talk to him and we would go out and eventually get married...it meant that in some ways I'm growing up: I'm not as anxious to start trying to re-connect with old flames who should "see me NOW!" I'm also not going to force something that just isn't there. Sure, the guy's cute...but that doesn't mean I have to start stuttering and fumbling, looking for conversation. No, I can just tell him that the person he's here to meet will be right out and then go back to my task of reading the morning papers.

After he leaves, I can write all about him on my blog.

American Idol(http://www.fox.com/home.htm) is BAAAAACCCCKKK. This time, I am watching from the beginning. I even turned off the new Real World:San Diego, saying "I can only concentrate on one reality show at a time, and I must devote myself to American Idol." So, that's what I'm doing. I'm giving in to the call of Big Media...or Mad Media, as it is Fox, but I enjoy it. I look forward to watching radio-host turned sexy-cheeseball, Ryan Seacrest, and I love, just love watching the faces Randy, Paula and Simon make as they have to deal with these, uhm, "singers." It's great fun. And it gives me something to look forward to in a weekly lineup that only reminds me how sad I'll be when Friends and Sex and the City are off the air.

I'm trying to decide if I should write for a German/American blog site that actually pays a portion of the revenue to its writers. I want to...but I'm not sure I can commit to doing that five days a week. That's why I've really been trying to post here every weekday...I've been doing well over the last couple of weeks. Maybe I'll become a famous blogger and get my book deal, afterall...not a bad plan, right?

Okay, so don't forget. Tonight. 8 o'clock. Fox. American Idol auditions continue.

A year ago, I was in Boston.
This is the first winter in my life (well, since age 3, anyway), when I am not in school.

On that note, I bring you a list:

Things I miss about Boston (amazingly enough, yes, there are some):
* H&M
* Filene's basement
* Walking by Government center every day, wandering the downtown area, looking in the little shops and marvelling at finding things made in California
* Mike's Pastry
* Working at the radio station
* Having my own space

Things I do not miss about Boston:
* The weather (blaaaaccchhhhh)
* Getting stuck underground on the T, smashed against the doors of a smelly train, with no room to breathe or turn around, with dozens of stinky people smashed in with me, wondering why I didn't just walk, then remembering the several inches of snow on the ground
* The three hour time difference between Boston and California, thus forcing me stay up late to have conversations with people using their cell phone "anytime minutes"
* Being away from everyone I love (Mama, Daddy, friends, pets...everyone!)
* Having to lug all my groceries from the (over-priced) supermarket to my apartment
* Having my own space

That's alll...just some mindless drivel...

The babble of a frustrated admin assistant....

People with college educations should be able to figure out how to work basic office equipment. Don't be afraid of the little screen on the Xerox Machine. It usually shows you just what it needs done...now, I have a job, because you don't know how to read the screen, but it is frustrating to hear "The machine is jammed," only to find that a paper drawer isn't closed all the way. People, come on, now, it's just not that complicated.

Was I born innately knowing how to handle computers/fax machines/copiers? I don't think so...in fact, I yell and cuss at the machines as much as the next girl, but first, I make an attempt to fix the thing. I fiddle. Yes, I fiddle.

As Mama knows, I am hesitant to read directions, but I usually find a way to fix a problem. This makes me something of a bad teacher, because my methods are usually unorthodox:
"Well, I hit the button twice, then open the other program, close the one I had open before, and THEN start a new document..." (who understands that ?).

Still, I look like a star, because I'm not afraid of the machine.

Come on. Despite appearance to the contrary, we are not living in the world of The Terminator, nor are we living in The Matrix . Or are we?

That would explain the cord running out my butt...

Lunch with Haylz yesterday...whoohoo! One of the bright spots in working in this overcast city!

While I greatly enjoyed the time spent with my lilsis/friend, I also realized how out of sync with the world I have become.

Case in point:
While eating lunch across from someone whom I have known for five years (yes, seriously,Hayley, since 1999! Wow!), I couldn't maintain eye contact and kept fiddling with my sweater. It didn't need fiddling.

I promise to work on my social skills, because my shell seems to be creeping back...I don't want it! I don't!

Away, shell, back to your hidey-hole!

My mommy passed this quote on:

Find your true path. It's so easy to become someone we don't want to be, without even realizing it's happening. We are created by the choices we make every day. ~ Bernie Siegel

It makes me realize even more how much I want to get married and start a family. It's exactly the quote that expresses what I feel - the more time I spend not being a wife and mother, the more time I'm becoming something else, something that I don't want to be...

and the praying continues...

Have I mentioned how much I truly despise having my name misspelled and mispronounced? It hurts me. Really, I get a pain in my stomach when I see that odd assortment of vowels and consonants that is SUPPOSED to be my name but isn't, really. I try my hardest to spell other people's names properly. I know I suck at pronounciation, so I can't fault other people, so I'm willing to let that one go for the moment...but spelling...Come On, People! It's called good editing! And you call yourselves a newspaper!

I had a great posting all planned out in my head before I fell asleep last night, but sleep being what it is, I no longer remember the "blog to end all blogs." That kind of sucks.

I'm still hung up on this whole attractiveness level thing. I've got no actual, personal issues with it at the moment (in other words, no one I'm wondering about being attractive or not...), but the issue is an important one.

I like Mama's opinion that a man should be "reasonable attractive with a really good heart" rather than "hot." That makes sense to me. I'm trying to make that work.

I'm not the type of girl that hot guys (or guys who know they're hot...but don't all hot guys know they're hot?) go for. I think I'm a "late bloomer." Granted, I'm not up for Model of the Year or anything. I'm the proverbial "pretty, nice girl." So, all of these janky (heeeeeyyyy, I can use that word again!) guys come up to me and flirt or assume they can get somewhere with me, because I don't act all caught up in my hair, nails and perfectly applied makeup. I know that I sound really shallow talking like this, but I think that is rooted in being teased as a child. Those who were called fat will always be over-aware of their bodies. Those who were called ugly will always imagine themselves as alternatively having some gross disfiguration or being Miss America. In my Miss America moments, I want to date J.T. Snow or some basketball player chosen by Jessica (my "gatekeeper" has a strange affinity for basketball players...and would love to see me marry one, since her deal with her own computer-nerd seems pretty solid - although she did convince him to get a D&G suit). In my ugly moments, I want to stay inside.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again. There's someone perfect out there for me...he may not be in California, and that's something I'll have to deal with as it happens.

You see, I can picture myself living somewhere else (and I've done it with varying success), happily ensconsced in my home with my husband and "hypothetical" children, but when I think about the emotional trauma of packing up and leaving, YET AGAIN, I don't think it's possible. If I didn't have to go through the leaving process, and if I didn't have to be too far from the units, the pets, the friends, I could survive it. If I could take everyone I value with me, then I could live somewhere else.

Does that mean I have to stay in "the Field?"

On being a third wheel.

I have developed what I hope is a knack for talking to boyfriends/fiances/husbands/dates-of-the-week. I haven't had to learn how to talk to the significant others of my guy friends, mostly because they don't have significant others...hmm.

Anyway, as I don't have a boyfriend (duh, really?) and am frequently the only one in the group with this problem, I have developed a new rule. I will not go to any social function at which will be present COUPLES, without having a date of my own. It's no complaint against the couples themselves, but I am frankly getting tired of being the one who gets pushed off the dance floor...pawned off on someone pining after someone else...or just cornered into a conversation about why I don't have a boyfriend.

While I dearly love all of my friends, I do not cherish the moments when we discuss the vacant chair beside me. I am not proud of my status of a singleton. I'm not Samantha or even Carrie! I'm Charlotte (at least as far as this is concerned), and I need a man (whether he's a kind-hearted Harry or a slightly ditzy Trey, I don't much care at this point). Heck, even Miranda got married!!

Back to the point (sorry).

Three-wheeled vehicles are awkward, unless they are wheelbarrows, in which case you need to be really strong and concentrated in order to operate the darn thing. Odd examples aside, the third wheel doesn't belong or can't contribute without that partner, the fourth wheel.

I'm tired of being the "single friend," or the one who "needs a boyfriend." It's true, I do. I want one, too...but I refuse to continue to call attention to myself as the girl who:

Can't flirt
Can't hear in a club
Can't stand being such an obvious third wheel

In other news, I got to do the "White Tango," or, as Kyle said, "let's file that away as painfully white and move on" at the party on Saturday, and it was great fun to lose myself to the music and a "Will..."

Here's to my (late in the) New Year resolution: Not going to parties without a companion, be it a best friend who won't leave my side or my very own date.

I'm going out tooooonnniiiiiiggggghhhhttttt....


Ohhh..gotta go get ready!

There's something about rainy Fridays that make me contemplative (haha, since I usually spend so LITTLE time thinking about myself and my life!). Lately, it's felt like I'm living someone else's life...like I'm living in a bubble.

Some weird things that have happened lately:

*Mommy got braces (GO GO GO MOMMY GO GO GO MOMMY) - I'm thrilled about it, but what's weird is that it's the realization of a dream for her. It's been a long time since I saw anyone's dream come true (hmmm...was the most recent Daddy finally getting a German Shepherd - hi Bailey -...in 1996?)?

*I don't feel frantic about my life. I know that I just have to be patient - granted I still worry, but I sort of feel more settled, emotionally, even while being pulled in 100 different directions.

*Talking with my co-worker, Lesley, about spirituailty, motherhood, and life in general. Granted, some of it got a little intense, but I know that she's been put in my life for a reason, and I'm grateful.

*Driving back and forth to Berkeley while being mildly drowsy. Anything I do in the fog of sleepiness strikes me as surreal. I'm pretty sure there are angels guiding my car to work each day.

*Sean playing host

*Talking to Shawn after hearing nothing from her for over a year

*Sophie lives in Versailles, is studying to become a teacher and will be married in 2005 - such a far cry from the girl I knew just two years ago...it's amazing what happens when relatives start to grow up!

*Planning to go out clubbing w/Irene and her man. They'll snog, and I'll check out the guys - hopefully her recent luck in the, uh, fun department will rub off on me.

*Talking with Jessica about being her #1 Bridesmaid (her version of Maid of Honor) - she's not yet engaged to Patrick, but this was a lot more real than our wanderings through Macy's and Nordstrom's pondering what fantastic shoes we'll wear to the galas we'll attend with our wealthy husbands...it's more than fantasy.

*Genuinely and truly feeling ready to get married and have a child - more so than ever before, I'm realizing that Mr. Fantasy Man doesn't exist, but the man I dream about (yes, actual dreams) might be just around the corner. I have a strong feeling, like Mommy, that this is THE year. God Help Us all!

It's all just rather new for me...this sense that I don't have to feel panicked about my life - that I really should know:

Expect it!
Dream it!
Something good is finding its way to you
As it does to all
God's children.

(Jewel)

In the words of Reba McEntire:

She came in lookin' good and lookin' around
She's checkin' out every man in the room right now
Don't go tellin' her about right or wrong
She's been alone way too long

The heart is a lonely hunter
With only one desire
To find some lastin' comfort
In the arms of a lover's fire
Driven by a desperate hunger
To the dark of the neon light
Oh the heart is a lonely hunter
When there's no sign of a love in sight

She hears him say "Hey, can I buy you a drink?"
And sees the pale white circle where he wears his ring
She knows he's dealin' her a dangerous hand
The consequences of a one night stand

The heart is a lonely hunter
With only one desire
To find some lastin' comfort
In the arms of a lover's fire
Driven by a desperate hunger
To the dark of the neon light
Oh the heart is a lonely hunter
When there's no sign of a love in sight

From somewhere deep inside she tells him no
Before she starts to cry she turns to go

The heart is a lonely hunter
With only one desire
To find some lastin' comfort
In the arms of a lover's fire
Driven by a desperate hunger
To the dark of the neon light
Oh the heart is a lonely hunter
When there's no sign of a love in sight



Preach on, Sister-friend. Preach on...

Ugh.

I've realized that my blog is so haphazard and unpredictable. Do I need a theme? Okay, my theme is this: Confusion.

You can be confused. I am confused. Let's all be confused together! Whoohoo!

I always say that I prefer when things are really busy, but right now, I feel like I'm being pulled in about 20 different directions, and I don't have the energy to concentrate on what's important.

Is this adulthood?

Okay. So, here's the deal.

I have two theories about my chances of getting married anytime soon:

1) I need to buckle down and start to change my personality. If my biological inclination is to chase after the "hot" guys, then I need to develop a personality that these guys will desire. The questions are: do I want to change my personality to get a man (a very uncertain plan)? do I even know what personality would attract these guys? My guess is confidence...something I tend to lack. I don't think that I have the time to dedicate to changing who I am...plus, for the most part, I like me! I don't want to change who I am at a fundamental level.

2) I need to buckle down and realize that I probably can find and fall in love with a really good hearted, reasonably attractive man based on my own personality. This plan will probably take much less time than the first plan, and, best of all, I don't have to sacrifice myself in the process.

The problem: If I want to marry someone "hot" but decide not to do that based solely on impatience, am I selling myself short? Or is my desire for "hotness" selling myself short?

Hmmm...

Last night, for whatever reason, I couldn't fall asleep. I think that all of this worrying about the state of my credit and my level of indebtedness has me feeling quite cranky and rather angry at the world.

I decided, most of all, to feel angry at the Hilton sisters. As far as I understand it, they have plenty of expendable cash, yet how do they choose to spend it? On parties and on making videos of themselves having sex. DISGUSTING! They spend more on one purse than I owe the federal government for my student loans. It makes me feel violently ill. To quote the ever-eloquent Irene, "It makes me want to vomit and cry at the same time."

If I had loads of money, after I paid off my debts (because what's the point of doing something good with my money, if I'd still be miserable and loaded down with student loans), this is what I would do:

*Give some money to Alpha and, depending on the pastor, to the church
*Pay off my parents' house
*Buy my dad a new car
*Buy me a new car
*Help my friends establish themselves in the world (whether they wanted actual cash or a job at the foundation...I'd give it to them!)
*Establish a non-profit pro-life foundation granting scholarships to teen mothers who want to finish their education and establishing trust funds for "surprise" babies.

Eventually, I'd get myself a house and some new clothes, but I would first take care of everybody else! I wouldn't just sit on my butt...or climb on a bar and shake it.

Is it is just me? Is this middle-class angst?

I never wanted to be rich when I was younger. I always had enough money for what I needed, and, honestly, my parents took care of the rest. When I was five, if I had ten dollars in the bank, I felt like I was set for life. I want that feeling back...I don't want to owe anyone any money! This is the worst feeling I've ever had inside.

I need a second job. :(

This is it. This is the year when I get a boyfriend.

It occurred to me as I was setting up my daily calendar (the history of shoes, thank you very much :Þ). I noticed a place in the calendar when it says "don't forget to buy your calendar for 2005!" In 2005, I'll turn 25. I cannot turn 25 without having had a real, solid, long-term relationship. That gives me essentially 2 years, but I choose to give myself only one.

By New Year's Eve next year, I will have a boyfriend.

This, along with trying to be a better person, is my resolution.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Wow 2004.

Resolution time...and time to really take a look at where my life is going (like I don't do that every day, anyway). I'll turn 24 this year, and there are some life goals that I intend to obtain. I'll leave you wondering.

What I really want to discuss is how wonderful it is to be Catholic, at least in terms of the New Year. I know that other cultures (specifically Chinese) have the new year based on another calendar. Well, Catholics don't have another New Year, but we do have Easter, and, thus, Lent.

Lent (which starts on February 25 this year) presents an excellent opportunity for reviewing your New Year's resolutions - checking to see which ones have fallen by the wayside and which others might need just a bit of tweaking. Lent offers the extra incentive of knowing that you're specifically doing this for God and in Thanksgiving for the suffering of Christ in the desert and on the cross.

As a Catholic, I have the chance now to make some resolutions, but on February 25, I can renew them and really make sure that in 6 weeks, I haven't forgotten everything.

Peace.