...Sarah...

...loss, part 6.

2017-12-11T17:16:00.001-08:00

It's the completion of this story finally. I don't know why it took me so long to finish it. Nor do I know why I felt compelled to. It's Christmastime again. And that's when the emotions start to hit.

If you haven't followed along, here's some backstory: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5. I know it's a pain to go read 5 blogs before you get to this one, but they're short and to the point. (and here's one that's not specifically about losing him, but about some thoughts on him)

It's been 19 years now. 19. That's just wild to me. Parker would have been a full grown man now. Sometimes I have to laugh at what sorts of nonsense he would have gotten into.

I guess I shared all of that through these years because his memories are still with me. The way he'd laugh at anything I'd do. The way he'd go along with whatever plan we dreamed up just because it meant we were together.

It's unique looking back on all of the different ways I've told this story in previous blogs. I left them all unaltered. It's been 7 years since I started them and they've all been told in whatever way I was processing things at that time.

I find myself in a relatively good place this year. I've made my peace with a lot of things in my life. I've found some joy and contentment that eluded me for years. I think you can read old blogs and see that the pain was still raw because I hadn't processed it properly, neither as a teenager nor as an adult.

I think Parker would be proud of me. I think he'd think the way I've chosen to live my life is "cool". I think I'd be someone he would love wildly still. So, I think I kind of nailed it, guys.

To finish off my tribute to him, I'm going to tell a story that I wrote for the last chapter of my uncle's book. I'm paraphrasing here, so if you have the book, it won't be completely the same, but the general story will be.

When I was a kid, my dad would try to end phone calls with people with, "Well, let me let you go now." I picked that up as a habit, I guess. So when I would be on the phone with Parker and I wanted to get off, I'd just say, "Well, let me let you go now." He picked up on it as well. But, as usual, had his own spin on it. He couldn't have been more than 6 years old at the time. We were on the phone once and I guess he wanted to go do something else so he says, "Sa, can you let me go now?"

For some reason, 6 years later as I was in the pew at his service, that popped into my head. The preacher was praying and, as clear as day, I could hear Parker whisper, "Sa, can you let me go now?"

I said I would.

Also, I lied. But he'd be ok with that, I think. I'll never let him go. But I smile now when I think about him. Sometimes I'd move heaven and earth if I could if it would make me see him for just a moment. But, for the most part, his 12 years left an astounding impact in my life. I lost my own way time and again throughout the years. But one that always brought me back was, "Would Parker be proud or ashamed of who you are?" I think I nailed it, P. I miss you. I love you.

And that, kids, is where we are. Life starts and life ends. We treasure what we have while we have it. And we grieve when we don't. Christmas is tough always for me. But it gets easier with time. And so, this year, I'm going to put up a decoration. Because if there's one thing I know to be true, it's that Van Parker Deese loved him some Christmas. And, in his memory, I will do my best to celebrate another one here on earth.

Treasure those you have while you can. Let's go into this Christmas season trying to use a little more patience, a little less stress, and a lot more focusing on all the love we can put into the world. We'll falter, we'll stumble, but I believe in us. Parker believes in me. And that's enough to keep me going.

...work life...

2017-10-24T09:23:00.001-07:00

It has recently been called to my attention that none of my blogs ever talk about work. Granted, I haven't been keeping up with them anyway. However, in case any of my loyal readers (all 1 of you) were wondering what keeps a roof over my head, I'm an Owner/Stylist. I'm pretty terrible at remembering to take pictures of my work. I either take the before and forget the after. Or I take the after but have no before. Or (more often than not) I just forget the whole things. However, I do remember from time to time and post them on my Instagram/Facebook. Here are some of my clients.

In case you are looking for a stylist, let me tell you about the shop. We are Master Design, Inc. We have 2 nail techs, and 4 hairdressers (including myself). We are adding a barber in the next year! And we will be doing facial and skincare services once we finish the remodel (yes, we're remodeling again). I'll have more information on that as it becomes available. Feel free to find us on Facebook or Instagram. We run weekly specials there as well.

If you're in need of a new 'do, feel free to shoot me a message. Consultations are always free. We are also launching a Bridal Division as well next year! Lots of changes on the horizon. We welcome you to join us in the fun!

Oven baked chicken drumsticks

2017-09-18T18:34:00.002-07:00

(Before you get unnerved by the sheer amount of words in this recipe, I did do a streamlined one at the bottom without my superfluous commentary. But you all do know how I like to ramble)

Throughout the years I've used this blog for anything from random musings to pouring out my soul. However, in the past several months, I've had lots of folks asking for recipes for some of the stuff I make.

Here's the deal. I am NOT a chef. I'm a ridiculously picky eater. And I don't know proper cooking terminology for roughly 80% of what I make. But, I do dig cooking. I find it to be soothing and, somehow against all odds, I stumble my way into some weirdly good food. So I'll share it here. (And yay, I get to combine my love for cooking right along with my addiction to writing stuff that most everyone doesn't care about). AGAIN, not a chef. Well more than half the time I don't even have proper measurements. So, I advise you to do what I do and adjust spices and whatnot to your liking.

I do not bake. I hate baking. I hate directions. I hate measuring out the precise components that are required of bakers. All of this is just fly by the seat of your pants cooking. That's my jam.

So, the other day I was tired of my usual staples (I make a lot of pastas, casseroles, and steaks) and wanted to switch it up. I went to Publix while I had some time to kill (you know, because of my car almost blowing up on me) and find a can of lima beans and a pack of chicken drumsticks. All together, this cost me $4.50. I figured I'd find stuff in my pantry to make it palatable. Also, I don't like to spend a lot of money on my food. So most of my stuff is super inexpensive to make. I have a decent spice collection and that covers up a multitude of sins. I also always have crappy beer and cheap wine to cook with. My good wine is for drinking. But some truly garbage $3 wine never hurts anything if you're cooking it down.

Anyway, here's my drumstick chicken recipe I tossed together. And, I kid you not, it was THE best and juiciest chicken I've ever made.

Preheat the oven to whatever you want. I used it around 400. Everyone has their own temp they use for chicken. Whatever floats your boat.

Prep the chicken: I used a liberal amount of salt, pepper, onion powder, and paprika. (I usually use real onion but I forgot to grab one and onion powder worked just fine). I added a little Crystal Hot Sauce to it as well.

Pour half a beer or so into a skillet (I prefer cast iron, but I had some other stuff rocking in the cast iron sized pan I needed. So I just used my basic metal skillet). Heat it up and throw some garlic in there. I chopped mine just because I like to. I imagine cloves would work just as well. Throw in a few bay leaves. Get it bubbling. Mix in some hot sauce if you like the heat. (for this chicken, I used Corona Light simply because it was in my fridge. I'd like to try this with a dark beer in the future, I imagine that'd taste delightful)

Put the chicken in the skillet. Let it sit in the bubbling beer for a couple minutes or so. Pour the rest of the beer in there and pop it into the oven. Then you just wait.

Every 10 - 15 minutes (depending on your temp and on how large the drums are) get some tongs and flip the chicken over. You'll see the beer is starting to get darker. When I flipped them, I would then add more pepper to the side that's out of the beer. Do this until they're cooked through. With the size and temp I had, this took about 45 minutes. It'll vary depending on temp and size. I don't have a meat thermometer. I just go by the way it looks. I know you're supposed to check the temp, but I've been doing this long enough to where I know when chicken is done. At this point, it should have a nice crisp to the skin as well.

Take it out of the oven and let the chicken rest for like 7 - 10ish minutes. While you wait on that, put the skillet back on the range with it turned medium to high and let the sauce continue to reduce.

Throw the chicken on the plate, top it off with some of the beer sauce/glaze, whatever you wanna call it. And you're donezo. Easy peasy. Serve with whatever you'd like. I used lima beans (oh, I have my limas cooking the entire time the chicken is. I use salt, pepper, and hot sauce and let them simmer...it gets them to that perfect spot). And my other side was some loaded potato soup (if y'all want that recipe, I have it too) that I turned into a weird cheesy potato bake and it was fricking delicious. Happy eating!

Oh, and my wine of choice was a Leese + Fitch Pinot Noir should anyone be wondering.

Streamlined No Commentary Version:

Preheat oven to 400 degrees

Chicken drum prep: Salt, Pepper, Paprika, Onion Powder

Pour 1/2 beer into skillet and get it bubbling. Add garlic and bay leaves. Put chicken in bubbling broth on stovetop for a couple of minutes. Add rest of beer.

Turn chicken every 10 - 15 minutes in oven until done. When turning, add pepper (or other spices to the part of the drum not in the beer)

Take chicken out of oven and have it rest for 7 - 10 minutes. Put beer mixture back on stove on medium to high to reduce it. Plate chicken, drizzle beer sauce on top and serve.

...shaved legs...clean hair...no sheets...

2015-10-26T16:49:00.001-07:00

I washed my hair AND shaved my legs today. That may seem like no big deal. Or too much information...or a combination of both. This information will come in handy to you in a few paragraphs...

I've been dealing with a bout of depression for the last couple of months. Many of you know that I've dealt with it for years and years now. Most of the time it's pretty well under control; sometimes it becomes more severe. There are times I see it coming (when I haven't been sleeping particularly well or when a breakup is imminent or work is stressful) and there are times when it hits me out of the blue.

Typically, I talk it out with a couple of close friends or (if I'm being honest) I bury it deep and wallow in self pity until it's worked it's way through and then I talk about it.

I realized the other day that, while I've been open about so many other things, I rarely will talk about it when I'm in the middle of it. And I think that's unfair. Not just to me, but to other people who may be going through it as well. There's no shame in it. Whether it's situational, seasonal, chemical, or a combination of those, depression is just something that MANY folks deal with from time to time. (or all the time, for some people).

I guess what I'm trying to get at is, I've spent a lot of time being down on myself when I was depressed. I got upset with myself when everything wasn't right. I got upset with myself when things started to slide. I got upset with myself when I couldn't drag myself out of bed. I got upset with myself when I couldn't wash my hair. I decided to try to take it easy on myself this time.

The one good thing about having dealt with this for years is knowing that this will pass. I may wake up tomorrow and feel better, or I may still be dealing with this 2 months from now. Either way, it's temporary.

So, I've decided to give myself a little bit of a break. I've done the small things that make me feel better. I've let the big things go. I'll get around to doing it all. And, until then, if I have to sleep between 2 comforters because it exhausts me to even think about putting my sheets back on my bed (yes, this is true. Yes, it sounds kind of like something a 12 year old boy would do. No, I'm not going to be ashamed of it--ok, well maybe a LITTLE ashamed..but still.) then that's what I'm going to do.

And, just to toss a small PSA in here for those who may not go through this. Don't think that depression is a constant thing of simply sitting around and feeling sad. I've had some GREAT times when I've been dealing with depression. I've had great experiences, amazing memories, tons of laughs, and more. For me, at least, it's more of being overwhelmed at times. I can go see a movie with friends, but then I need to recharge the next day. I can do my dishes, but the laundry isn't getting done. I can clean the bathroom, but the living room looks like shit. I can get my bills paid, but I can't remember to return a phone call. Everyone experiences it differently. Everyone processes it differently. And, sadly, too few people talk about it and it makes other folks feel like they can't. So...there it is, you know me, I'm here. I'm in the midst of a depressive episode. This, too, shall pass. Whatever you're going through shall pass. Be kind; everyone is fighting a different battle.

Oh...and I shaved my legs AND washed my hair all in one day and I'm taking that as a win, damnit. I did, however, pile up on my couch and watch New Girl for about 9 hours straight so there's that. But tomorrow is another day. Today, I cuddle with my dogs with smooth legs, clean hair and (relatively) clean comforters (but no sheets...I'll deal with that another day).

...project semicolon...

2015-07-21T11:04:00.000-07:00

"A semicolon is used when an author could have chosen to end a sentence, but chose not to."

I first heard about Project Semicolon a few weeks back and immediately knew I was going to get my tattoo. I went last night. It was the 8th anniversary of my suicide attempt. 8 years ago I couldn't even begin to dream to have a life like I have today. The path from being a completely shattered shell of a human to becoming a joyously, monstrously, wildly happy and peaceful person wasn't always easy but it was always worth it. There have been countless ups and downs throughout the years. Not only have the lows become fewer and further between, but the highs have become astonishingly higher. I can't properly express all of the emotions that I felt when I sat down in that chair last night to get this tattoo. I wanted to go back to 8 year ago Sarah and just show her a glimpse of how great life will be.

My journey has been hard, it's been painful, it's been ego-shattering. It has also been awe-inspiring, it's been humbling, it's been breathtaking.

As always, if you're struggling, reach out. It's ok to not be ok sometimes. There's no shame in needing help. There's no indignity in asking for assistance. You do whatever it takes to make yourself right again. You are the author of your story. Turn the page. Write another chapter. If the story sucks, start a new one. Indulge your creativity. And on those days when you just can't go any longer, use that semicolon. Take a pause. Let yourself breathe. Then pick it up and start writing again.

I am a survivor. And, quite frankly, I'm damn proud of myself. So, today, I celebrate me...

...loaded baked potato chicken casserole...

2015-07-14T06:08:00.000-07:00

I had several people asking about this casserole I made last night. Here's the recipe should you want it. Also, you should know that I don't use measuring cups or anything. I just kind of go along with whatever looks right. So all of these measurements are approximations. (Or, if I'm being honest, a total shot in the dark)

Make some bacon and set to the side to cool. I used probably 8 slices of it. Depends on how much you love bacon (which should be a whole lot).

Cube potatoes. I kept the skin on and I used just regular russet potatoes. I imagine you could sub red potatoes if you so desire. Cubes were probably 1/2" to 1" or so. I think I used 5 potatoes. Just depends on whatever size your casserole dish is.

In mixing bowl, whisk the following:
- 1/2 cup(ish) olive oil
- 1 or 2 Tbsp Paprika
- 1 or 2 Tbsp Garlic Powder (or use actual garlic after you've sauteed it)
- Salt and pepper to taste
- 4 or so Tbsp Hot Sauce (obviously more or less depending on your heat preferences.)

Toss the potatoes in the sauce. Then take the potatoes out (leaving the sauce in the bowl) and put them in a casserole dish. Crumble most of the bacon and put in the dish. Cover with foil. Throw those babies into the oven for around 30 - 45 minutes at 450 degrees. (or until they're crispy outside and done on inside) I stirred them a couple times to make sure they weren't sticking.

While those are cooking, cube chicken breasts (I used 2. Again, depends on how much you're making. You're smart. Use your judgment). Toss the chicken into the leftover sauce from the potatoes. I sauteed some onions and garlic and the rest of the crumbled bacon in a pan on the stove and put the chicken in there to cook. Took about 7 minutes or so.

When the potatoes are done remove them from the oven, toss on some ranch dressing on top of them (if you so desire) and put the chicken on top of that. Put some shredded cheese on top (I used an entire bag because I like them cheesy). Put the dish back into the oven uncovered until the cheese melts. (took about 5 minutes). You can broil on high (keep an eye on it) for a few minutes if you like your cheese to brown. Top with parsley or green onions. (which I clearly forgot until after I took the picture.)

Next time I do it, I'm probably going to put cheese over the potatoes/under the chicken AND on top of the chicken so it'll be cheesier down in the potatoes. But that's basically it. Sweet, simple, clean up is easy.

Also, the salad is just field greens, cucumbers, blue cheese crumbles, tomatoes and some lemon juice mixed all together. I know everyone knows how to make a salad. But the lemon juice is the kicker.

There you have it. Enjoy.

...when you disappoint someone...

2015-02-18T09:28:00.000-08:00

I did something recently that I haven't done in awhile. I hurt someone's feelings. I disappointed someone. Badly. Perhaps that sounds silly to a lot of people, but I do my best to never let anyone else down. Granted, a lot of times I just imagine that I'm letting people down because I'm so hard on myself. But this time I really did. 100%. It's completely on me. And, to be perfectly honest, it's been tearing me up inside. Out of respect for this person's privacy, I'm not going to say who it is or what happened, but, suffice it to say, I screwed up. That's....that's just not me. To be frank, I'm not sure if this friendship will be repaired. It's extremely rare that I'm callous with someone. And even more rare that I genuinely disappoint someone who I care deeply about.

I take things like this very hard. I haven't had an appetite. When I do sleep, I have repeating dreams that I'm having a confrontation with this person, or I dream that I continue to hurt them over and over again. Out of all the progress I've made in all of my years, my hardest is forgiving myself when I hurt someone even a little. When I really mess up, it's damn near impossible for me to not hate myself.

I've apologized several times. I didn't apologize to make myself feel better, I did it because this person deserves it. I don't expect forgiveness or absolution. But I do respect this person enough to give them a sincere apology and let them know that I am aware that I screwed up and apologize for treating them so poorly. It wasn't a purposeful thing, by any means, but that doesn't negate the fact that I still hurt them.

I guess my takeaway from all of this is that you should remember how much your words or actions can mess up a friendship...even a strong friendship. Hopefully if you're reading this, you'll learn from my mistakes and remind yourself to be careful with what you do and say around those people who mean a lot to you. This isn't a "poor, pitiful me" sort of entry. It's one way for me to work out my emotions. It's also a way to admit that I am FAR, FAR from perfect and screw up just like everyone else--and often more so than others. And, again, hopefully it's a gentle reminder that all of us can be a little (or a lot) more kind.

...loss, part 5...

2014-12-09T19:29:00.002-08:00

Who would have known this story would take me so long to get through? I started writing this several years ago. I always think I'm going to finish it when I begin one of these but I've never been able to. I started this story in 2010...it's 2014 now and I haven't been able to finish and I don't know when I will.

For those getting caught up, I ask you to read Part One, Part Two, Part Three, and Part Four here. When I started writing about this, I never in a million years would have thought it would take me 4 years to go through this.

If you've read through everything, I think you realize the space I was in. I was a child who couldn't process. I was a child who was trying to be an adult. I was a child who hadn't experienced loss but who was trying to be strong for everyone.

After Van told Bailee what had happened to her brother, her first words (at least as far as I can remember) were, "Where is Sa-Sa?" Van came and found me. I went into the room and Bailee wrapped her arms around me and I just remember thinking that I needed to keep it together. I didn't do so well with keeping it together on my own. But, in true "me" fashion, I was able to pretend to be strong for everyone around me. To this day, I am the person who can keep it together in front of anyone. I demand to myself that I keep it strong. I am constantly the person who will keep it together regardless of what everyone is going through. And I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. Losing Parker was first genuinely defining moment of my life. That moment shaped me like no other had before then, nor how any moment has defined me since...

Every Christmas since then has been filled with so many emotions. Every Christmas has been both a trial and a tribulation. I have been sad and I have been ecstatic. It's all a matter of learning to work through everything. At this time of year, I always end up thinking about this moment in my life. I'm sure more will come. But, for now, this is where I have to leave it...

...being a hero...

2014-10-22T07:24:00.001-07:00

I woke up this morning and checked my messages like normal. Usually there's a silly picture text from my stepdad. Maybe a couple from friends just saying hi. This morning there was one that hit me straight in the heart. I have a very close friend of mine (who is retired Air Force -- that information will make sense in a minute) who was right by my side during my suicidal tendency days. He, quite literally, helped to save my life. He also supported me and never turned his back on me. I am indebted to him and several other of my friends for walking by me through a very dark time. He happened to be in town the day I was interviewed for the documentary about suicide attempts and survivors. I'm not certain what made him send this text, but I wanted to share it:

"...Don't know if you're a Stevie Ray fan or not but (a) he's one of the best slide guitarists ever and (2) his long 'Life Without You' reminds me of you. I hope you know how much your friendship and love means to me. Can't imagine my life without you, just wish you didn't live so f'in far away. It was great being there for the video thing, I can't express how proud I am of you to be able to talk about it and be able to help others overcome. I might have fought terrorists in Afghanistan, but you are my hero for being about to talk about those things and help others...."

I was speechless (this happens very rarely as I'm sure you can imagine). I don't share this text for a pat on the back or for accolades or anything. I share it because I know I've had so many of you reach out to me but are still afraid of speaking out publicly because you're afraid of the backlash. I just want this to show you that by you speaking out, you are someone's hero. Yes, you may find some judgmental people along the way but, by and large, you're going to find that people applaud you for finding the courage to speak out. I have had countless people reach out to me when they're going through something or when one of their family members are hurting. If I didn't have the courage to speak out, those people may have not found the help they needed. And I couldn't have found the courage to do this without the support of friends like the one who texted me. I couldn't have found the courage without the support of my friends and family when I share my struggles. So, to me, you all are my heroes. Without you, I couldn't have opened up. Thank you for being MY hero.

As always, if you're hurting, please contact me. Day or night. I don't care. And if you have been there and you're afraid to speak out, please think about how much it would have helped you had someone offered their advice and experiences to you in your darkest hour. As my beautiful friend Raela says, "There is ALWAYS another choice." I love all of you who have let me share my stories with you. Thank you for your support. Be kind to each other, we're all fighting our battles. Hold out a hand to someone and lift them up.

....on suicide and selfishness...

2014-08-12T15:38:00.001-07:00

I told myself I wasn't going to add to all of the countless things being written about Robin Williams' suicide. However, I have been reading some things that weigh heavy on my heart and I just feel the need to get out. I am not discussing what was going on through his mind in his situation because none of us will ever know. But I want to talk about some of the comments I have read and hopefully at least explain from the point of view of someone who has been there.

One of the things I have heard and read is that suicide is a selfish act. Please understand that I can see how it can appear that way to those outside. When you love someone and they take their life, it is hard to not see that as being selfish. So many people say it's the coward's way out. That the person wasn't strong enough to handle life. They say that it's selfish to not care about how it will affect their loved ones. I don't know if I possess the talent to accurately describe the frame of mind of someone in that state, but I at least want to try in the hopes that maybe someone will learn that these people who attempt/commit suicide aren't thinking it's selfish.

It's not about thinking you're not loved. When I was in my darkest point, I always knew I was loved. Most of the time I even FELT I was loved. I'm sure Robin Williams was aware that he was beloved by people the world over. If love could fix depression, nobody in this world would be depressed. We ALL have someone who loves us.

Those suicidal thoughts that are born out of depression or anxiety are inherently illogical. You cannot logic your way out of depression. So many times people would say, "But Sarah, you have x, y, and z going for you" or "You know your family would be devastated" or "You mean the world to me". It's not that a suicidal person doesn't hear that. Believe me, they WANT to believe that. Most of the time they even believe the person that is telling them those things really feels that way. The problem is that, when you're in that state of mind, YOU can't believe it. Everything you do feels wrong. Even if you're being told you're loved, you still feel that you're being loved in spite of who you are, not BECAUSE of who you are. You genuinely feel that you're a burden on everyone and no matter what anyone says, that's how you feel. The thoughts of suicide most often are not so that YOU stop feeling pain, it's so that you stop CAUSING people pain. True, that's not reality, but that's the difficult part of depression. That is a suicidal person's reality. They genuinely believe that if they are gone, they're no longer a burden. You can be depressed and write a pro and con list about yourself. The pros can far outnumber the cons but they don't necessarily OUTWEIGH them in your mind. Even if you can see enough logic to realize that you're being...well, illogical...you can't think yourself out of it. It's not something that makes sense to many people. And being told you're selfish is a hurtful thing to hear. All it does is add one more thing that you feel you're wrong about. We all know it's wrong to be selfish. So when you hear society, a friend, a family member saying that people who think about or commit suicide are being selfish all that does is just put one more reason why you shouldn't be alive anymore. It's just one more reason that you're failing.

Another thing I read earlier was a blog that implied (and I'm not going to link to it here) that suicide is simply a lack of joy and spirituality and that if you can find joy then you can beat depression. Well, for one, no shit. That's a pretty little package tied up in a nice bow. But the point in depression is that you can't find the joy. This same blog went on to say that people who commit suicide don't die from a disease, they die from choice. Now this is something I take great umbrage with. And I'm sure I will have a lot of people who disagree with me on this. Yes, these people are the instruments by which they die. Whether that's by hanging, jumping in front of a train, cutting their wrists or whatever form it takes. I am here to tell you though that this is not a choice. A lot of people will disagree vehemently and I accept that. Again, depression is an illogical disease. It takes therapy, introspection, a support network and, very often, medication. But CHOOSING to die goes against every human instinct. I've had a lot of people over the years say, "Well yes, but you have to choose to overdose or pick up the gun" and I will agree with that. But I want at least one person to try to understand how sick and desperate you have to be to get to that point. You're at that point because your brain, your heart, your soul is telling you that you have no choice.

The only way I can think to even being to try to explain it is this: When the 9/11 tragedy happened, we all saw the people who chose to throw themselves out of the building instead of being trapped and left to die a possible slow death. When someone is in that frame of mind, their entire LIFE is that building that has been attacked. They're slowly dying and they know it's coming. They're suffocating, they're physically, mentally and emotionally hurting. So some people throw themselves out of the window. It's the only way (in their diseased thinking) of "saving" themselves.

I say this all to hopefully try to explain what it's like in the mind of someone contemplating or committing suicide. The beautiful part of all of this is that there IS hope. People come back from that ledge every single day. The way to help them is by trying to understand this horrible disease; it's not by calling them selfish or cowardly. I know a lot of people will not understand this but please, from someone who has been there, try to understand. Try to realize that not everyone can be mentally healthy and that mental illness and depression are very, very real diseases.

When you are sharing your thoughts that someone who is thinking about suicide or self-harm is only doing it for selfish reasons, please take a moment to wonder how it would feel if you already felt worthless and then someone was calling you names on top of that. Realize that words have power.

Suicide takes far too many people from us already. Instead of promoting the idea that someone is selfish, try realizing that they're hurting and the last thing they need is to feel like they're letting someone down yet again. Spread love, not hate. Try to empathize. And, most of all, if you see someone hurting, LISTEN to them. And if you're hurting, please realize that it CAN get better. I may not know you but I know you're not selfish. I know you're injured and sad and you feel what I call "less than". Accept the love that's out there. See a therapist. Take medication. Do yoga. Scream into a pillow. I don't care what it takes. You CAN find your way out. It's a hard road. But you're not selfish. You have worth. And if you don't recognize that, please know that I do.

...wasted time...

2014-07-09T09:20:00.000-07:00

In talking with some friends at the end of their romantic relationships, I've heard a lot of them say something to the effect of, "Yeah, I feel like I wasted the last x amount of years of my life with him/her."

Admittedly, there have been times in my past where I thought that but I've come around to a far different conclusion after mulling this over. The thought of "wasted time" is so completely foreign to me. It implies that there's a checklist you have to follow to get through life and that there are things you HAVE to accomplish before you get to the finish line. I'm not certain where we got these ideas from.

What if, just maybe, we looked at life as something to be enjoyed, not endured while adhering to a specific plan? It doesn't have to be infancy, toddler, kid, school, teenager, school, adult, school, work, date a specific number of people so you know what you're looking for, engagement, marriage, baby, work, career, retirement, death...That sounds so boring to me.

We shouldn't be looking at relationships, experiences, setbacks, etc. as wasted time. It's just a part of it. Also, how insulting is that to call a relationship wasted time? Sure, we've all (most likely) stayed in a relationship longer than we could have. But how is it wasted time? Every single relationship I've been in, I've learned from. And every single relationship had some wonderful times. By calling someone in your past wasted time, you're wiping away all that you've learned. You're wiping away all of the good times.

Let's be honest, everything ends in some way. You go to school, it ends. You make friends, that friendship is likely to end far before you die. Your job will end. Your LIFE is going to end. Why should one second of that be referred to as wasting your time?

There's no way of knowing how long you're going to be allowed to enjoy any given situation. Why take away from that?

We're working on a journey...not working toward a finish line. Basically, I'm saying that I think we should savor the fact that we don't know how long we're going to be here...and be thankful for the time you spent with people in your life. Granted, I'll be the first time admit this only applies if the people in your life aren't horrible people. And, if you do have some horrible people in your life, get them out. Enjoy this. And don't even call that time with them wasted. It may have just been part of your journey to learn how to cut out the bad and embrace the good.

I've cultivated an amazing group of friends throughout the years. Part of doing that was realizing who wasn't amazing and cutting them out. It's not to be hateful, it's to facilitate joy. I can honestly say that none of my time was wasted. It's been a part of my journey to get to this place of peace I have finally found. It was not always fun, it was oftentimes brutal and depressing and hard and painful, but one thing it was NOT was wasted time.

...3 a.m. and insomnia...

2014-02-12T08:13:00.003-08:00

3 a.m.

There is no hour that's worse than being wide awake at 3 a.m.

Every doubt, every broken promise, every mistake haunts you at 3 a.m. You lie in bed tossing and turning and praying and begging for sleep. You do every trick you know of to get the ticker tape in your head to turn off.

Fear comes to pay you a visit. He sits down and gets very comfortable in your head. He shines a light on your darkest fears. "What if I really am not good enough?"or "What if I never find someone to share my life with?" and "What if I spend every night for the rest of my life awake at 3 a.m. wrestling with my demons?" or "What if I'm not smart enough?"

Then, that bastard Self-Loathing comes to pay you a visit. Every single thing you've done that you know is wrong starts jumping into your head. "Why did I hurt that person?" and "Why did I shut myself away from people?" or "Why was I so irresponsible with money in my younger years?" and "Why didn't I take better care of myself?" or "Why can't I sleep like 'normal' people?"

Don't forget to make room for Heartbreak to visit. Even if you're over someone, we all can carry those insecurities around with us for a long time. "Why did this ex say he didn't get a good return on his investment with me?" (true story with that one..ouch) or "Why did that ex just seemingly fall out of love overnight?" or "What about the one who said that I push people away and make everyone hate me? Is he right? Do people hate me?" and "Why didn't I meet THAT person at a different stage in my life? Things could have been different."

Then we have (my personal favorite) Mr. A.D.D. come by. (usually interrupting the others). "Hey! I really like that song, "Mind Games" let me play it on repeat for you!" then "Remember that time Freshman year that you fell on the sidewalk in front of everyone? How embarrassing was that?!" and "Ooh..what about that cute guy you saw the other day? Do you think he thinks you're cute?" then "Did you remember to pay your credit card on time?" and "Oh wait, let me remix 'Arms of an Angel' with 'No Diggety' and drive you absolutely insane all night because you know that is stupid!" and "Hey, you have an itch on your foot but if you scratch it then you might mess up your comfortable pillow." or "Oooh! Oooh! Oooh! Let's go on a trip" and "I bet you aren't aware of how weird your tongue feels in your own mouth but now you are". (seriously, I hate that guy)

And so you lie there and you visit with these jerks. And you get frustrated with them. And you tell them to go away. And you start to think that maybe, just maybe, you are slightly insane.

But then the clock keeps ticking forward and you begin to see the sunrise. And you realize those thoughts are just in the shadows of your mind. You thought and believed them at one time so they're probably always going to be there. But you know that they aren't who you are.

I liken 3 a.m. to a forest outside of your house. In the middle of the day you go walking through it and it's nice and comfortable and provides some shade. A soft breeze blows by and you see the way the shadows play on the ground and it's soothing and safe. Then you go in it at night. That same exact breeze blows and suddenly it's someone coming to get you. Or an animal is chasing you down. Hell, you're so scared at that point you could probably convince yourself it was an actual ghost or the Headless Horseman. But you know that morning will come. The light will shine again and you'll realize it was all just your imagination playing games.

So, 3 a.m., I'm sure I'll see you tonight. We'll sit down and visit in the shadows of my mind. But there's a lot more to the day than just your hour. So I'll be calm and know that this, too, shall pass.

..are you too busy?

2013-10-14T17:42:00.000-07:00

I've stumbled across several different articles on the notion of busyness (not to be confused with business) as a status symbol.

I've started to take notice of this as of late. Reading through people's Facebook statuses, their twitter updates and just in conversations with people. It seems like the standard answer to, "How have you been" is now defaulted to, "Busy."

There seems to be a growing trend in that 'busy' equals 'successful'. And, even more strongly, the idea that if you're not busy that you're somehow slacking or should be doing something productive. I admit to falling prey to this thinking a few years back. Slacking off meant just that...I was a slacker. Somehow the idea that relaxation is equated with evil has permeated society to the point that everyone now seems to feel they have to be busy to be validated as a good person or even as a successful person.

I can't help but see this as an antiquated notion. My friends often joke with me about how I don't really do much. I'm only at the shop for 4 days a week. And some of those days, I do leave early to go relax or meet up with friends or run errands or take care of business outside of the shop. I must admit, I have it pretty good. I have been able to set up my life so that I don't have to be busy every minute of the day. And I don't feel guilty about that for a minute -- ok, maybe sometimes I do. I see people posting about how horrible Mondays are or how busy they are or their litany of tasks to do and I feel a little guilty that I don't have that. We're closed on Monday. And, while I'm often doing things for work, it's certainly not all day and it usually doesn't even require getting out of my pajamas.

But my biggest insecurity comes when someone else thinks that I don't do enough. Then I remember, "Wait, these are my priorities. This is the way I like it."

In one of the homes I was raised in (and I won't say which parent it was), it felt like a requirement to be doing something all of the time. We were required to live in an exceptionally clean and organized house and to never have shoes in the living room, a floor un-swept or un-mopped, mirrors weren't to have water spots, the yard was to be cut and edged each weekend. Now, I'm not saying any of this was bad at all (although I did rebel upon growing up and having my own house. I'm not the world's best housekeeper by any stretch of the imagination). But you can bet when that particular parent was coming home, I was up doing something. Even if the house was clean, I wasn't sitting down watching TV when they came home. I was wiping down the counters or sweeping the kitchen (even if I had done it when I got home from school). It seemed to me that being busy was more important than anything. It was definitely a, "If you have time to lean, you have time to clean" sort of existence. So to me, busy was the most important thing. I wouldn't get in trouble if I was doing something, but I would if I were just relaxing when they got home.

Now this isn't a poor pitiful me sort of situation. This certainly wasn't abusive or unfair. It was just teaching me to work and to stay busy. After all, "idle hands are the devil's workshop" or some such other trite saying that I no longer believe.

Yes, I know there's a lot to be said about working hard and securing your future and providing for your family. So I am not saying hard work is bad. I AM saying, though, that rest, relaxation and sometimes just plain playing hooky isn't the worst thing about you. One of my favorite memories of my mom occurred when I was in the 3rd grade. She came and checked Daniel and me out of school midday. He and I just knew something had happened to someone. We didn't get checked out unless it was an emergency in those days. We walked into the office scared and mom just said, "Come on, we need to leave" without telling us why. We finally got to the car and she said, "Here's $100 each. We're going shopping and I'm taking you to the movies." $100 at a time was more than we had probably ever seen. I'm not sure how she even came up with it--to say we weren't well off would be putting it mildly. We certainly had never been checked out of school to just go play and go to a movie in the middle of the day. To this day, I have no idea why she did it. There was probably something going on that we weren't aware of and she just wanted to do something special with and for us. But the point is that blowing everything off and being decidedly un-busy was one of the highlights of my childhood and certainly something I look back on and smile.

I have another favorite memory of my stepmom doing the same thing when I was in the 8th grade. She came and checked me out of school early. In the line where she was to fill out why I was leaving, she simply put, "Just Cause" and off we went to the fair.

These are 2 women who know the value of hard work. In fact, they're some of the hardest working ~~women~~ humans I know. But even they knew there's a time and place to blow off everything and just go have fun.

Granted, the only way you can do this on the regular is to be a trust fund baby or hit the lottery or have an extremely generous partner (but then they're the ones working so hard so that's not really fair). But you can find times to be un-busy in your life if you really are honest with yourself.

I think my whole point to this is to stop for a minute and see how "busy" you truly are. Are you swamped because you're on too many committees? Are you swamped because you're trying to feel like you matter? Are you swamped because you want your kids to be involved in every single activity possible? Are you swamped because you need a bigger house or an extra car?

If you're busy because you need to be (for whatever reason) then that's one thing. But stop and evaluate why you're so busy if you don't need to be. I'd be willing to bet your kids are going to appreciate the ice cream and movie date for no reason than they are for going to their 4th lesson of the week of something they likely don't even care about. If you're, like me, choosing to be childfree, then why are you so busy? Again, is it for more vacations or more security or more cars or more toys? If so, make sure that's what you really want. I firmly believe that adults should be free to do whatever they want if they don't have children. (and that's not to say that parents shouldn't. I just know from hearing from my parent friends that you have to be selfless and make it about your children and I applaud that). But if you're not a parent, is your relationship more important to you than getting that overtime every week? Again, I am not speaking to those who have a financial need here. I believe you always work as hard as you have to (no matter what) when you're an adult. But if you're okay (and I don't mean rich, I mean just okay) is a dinner at home with your partner worth volunteering for that extra thing at work? If you're doing all right, do you need to pick up extra shifts just to have another expensive dinner out? Or are you on a committee because you feel like you're not responsible unless you have too many things on your plate?

Personally, I love my "un-busy" (at times) life. I've worked to have this sort of un-busy life. Sure, there are more hectic times than others. There are times that I have too many things to do. And, quite honestly, I love those times because I'm overbooked because I want to be, not because I've done it because I feel like I have to be busy to not be a failure.

For now, I'm going to enjoy my glass of wine and a book while David plays video games. We worked on the house today and there's still plenty to do (there always will be). But, for now, it's time to focus on what we like to do. It's time to revel in the fact that we're un-busy.

I swear this post gets to the point eventually

2013-10-10T17:28:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking lately of "the bigger picture". Not in an existential sense but in a literal sense. There's so much going on politically and economically that it's hard not to. It seems that everyone (outside of Washington) has it figured out. This partial governmental shutdown is "all the Republicans' fault" (and people have research to back that up), to other's it's "all the Democrats' fault" (they, too, have research to back it up). Maybe it's the Koch brothers, maybe it's Obama, maybe it's Smokey the Bear...I don't know. Nor do I know how to figure it out.

Call me naive (and I know many will) but I just can't get my head around the fact there there are literally 535 people who want to do nothing than make us suffer. Sure, I know there are some who are solely about making money or creating power, but I can't believe that there aren't people (across all parties) who truly don't care. I think some of them do care. And that's what's causing the problem. Some of them care about one thing while others care about another. I cannot (or will not, perhaps) believe that all people are inherently bad and are out only for themselves. This is why I cannot blindly discount those folks who don't agree with me. I'm sure some of them aren't disagreeing with me simply to be contrary. There have to be some that believe in their ... well, beliefs...as strongly as I hold mine...and that's why they aren't backing down. They really do believe and feel they're doing the best for "the people". Again, this is not a view that is likely to win me many friends. I'll be called naive, or perhaps, even stupid. However, I was reading Anthony Bourdain's book, "Medium Raw" and he has a passage in there that firmed up my belief in this even further. I'm going to quote it here and, Mr. Bourdain's lawyers who I imagine may scour the internet looking for someone disseminating his work without permission, I hope you will forgive me. If not, as Chef Bourdain knows, you can't get blood from a turnip. So sue away if you must.

The Chef is talking about Alice Waters' vision that we can build a sustainable agricultural environment in each and every backyard. He asks, "Who will work these fields? No. Really. Somebody's going to have to answer that question soon. If, somehow, we manage to bring monstrously evil agribusinesses like Monsanto to their knees, free up vast tracts of arable land for small, seasonal, sustainable farming, where's all the new help coming from? Seems to me, we're facing one of two scenarios. Either enormous numbers of people who've never farmed before are suddenly convinced that waking up at five a.m. and feeding chickens and then working the soil all day is a desirable thing. Or, in the far more likely case, we'll revert to the traditional method: importing huge numbers of desperately poor brown people from elsewhere--to grow those tasty, crunchy vegetables for more comfortable white masters. So, while animals of the future might be cruelty-free, which would allow those who can afford to eat them to do so with a clean conscience, what about life for those who will have to shovel the shit from their stalls?"

Now, hear me out. I am not saying Anthony Bourdain is the be all end all. I am simply saying he brings up a valid point. However, one thing we can all agree on is that we need sustainable and healthier food. I don't think anyone can argue that. In fact, I have friends who are adamant that we not eat processed foods. And I couldn't agree with them more. However, I don't think people have thoroughly thought through how difficult this is for some people. Which he also discusses. He talks about how he is able to buy organic food extremely easily for him and his family because he makes a TON of money being a celebrity chef. This is taken from his book verbatim:

"But what about the Upper Peninsula of Michigan? Or somewhere on the margins of Detroit? What if I were an out-of-work auto worker, living on public assistance or a part-time job? At least I have time to dig a 'victory' garden, right? What does Alice suggest I do if I don't live in the Bay Area, my fields turgid with the diverted waters of the Colorado River? Not a problem! 'You have to think of a different kind of menu,' says Alice. 'You eat dried fruits & nuts. You make pasta sauces out of canned tomatoes..you're eating different kinds of grains--farro with root vegetables. All the root vegetables are there, and now, because of the heirloom varieties, you can have a beautiful winter palette...Turnips of every color and shape! Carrots that are white and red and orange and pink! You have different preparations of long-cooking meat...Cabbages!...'

He goes on to then say:

"Basically, you can eat like a fucking Russian peasant, is what she's saying. I don't know if that's what they want to hear in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan or Buffalo. And...what about the healthy, pure wholesome and organic foods that Alice says I should be buying--particularly if I have children? If I'm making even an average wage as, say, a sole-providing police officer or middle manager? Regular milk is about $4 a gallon. Organic is about twice that. Supermarket grapes are about $4 a bunch. Organic are $6. More to the point, what if I'm one of the vast numbers of working poor, getting by in the service sector? What should I do? How can I afford that? Asked this very question directly, Alice advises blithely that one should 'Make a sacrifice on a cell phone or on a 3rd pair of Nike shoes.' It's an unfortunate choice of words. And a telling one, I think. You know, those poor people--always with their Nikes and their cell phones. If only they'd listen to Alice. She'd lead them to the promised land for sure."

After this rant, he talks about her proposed idea that we immediately spend $27 billion to ensure every American schoolchild gets a healthy organic lunch because that is "more important than crime in the streets. This is not like homeland security--this actually is the ultimate homeland security. This is more important than anything else," says Alice. Part of his response is, "A healthy lunch is all fine and good .... but no use at all to Little Timmy if he gets shot on the way to school....we've failed miserably to even teach him to read. What kind of dreams can a well-fed boy have if he doesn't even have the tools to articulate them?" I won't go into the whole thing here because I have been long-winded enough. Buy the book. Seriously. It's on Amazon for about $8.99. (just be aware there's some colorful language).

I think we can all agree that Mrs. Waters's has some fantastic ideas. In fact, some of my friends may even venture to say that $27b on organic food is a better investment than $27b on reading education or security or career services or .. hell, I don't know. And that's the point. We all come to the table with our priorities. And, because we are individuals, all of us have our priorities in different order. Those who are living in a safe town with good schools very well may believe that a larger portion of the budget should go to better eating (and they're not wrong). While others who live in crime-ridden neighborhoods may think that the money should go towards better education or security (and they're not wrong).

So my point is, don't be so quick to point fingers and assume the other guy is the villain. Sure, we may have some (or even a lot of) bad apples (in keeping with my food theme). But to immediately "know" who is right or who is wrong is quite a subjective matter. Because I do firmly believe that there's a lot of gray out there. Those voting to defund ACA are probably as righteous about it as those who support it. There's not a right or wrong in what you believe. I do believe in the good of people, I do believe there are still people who are doing their best...even if I don't agree with it. Don't take this, though, as a blanket statement. I do also believe that there are people who are simply out for their own interests, there are people who are too deep in the pockets of someone to turn away. And they got themselves into that situation so I can't say that I feel sorry for them. But I can't (or again, won't) let them take away my faith in the greater good.

Does this mean that I don't hold the government responsible for what's going on right now? Not at all. Ultimately, they are responsible. They are the ones we elected to work through these issues and to not just go pout in a corner and say, "Screw the rest of America. I don't have this so they can suffer." Be mad at them. Be angry. But be proactive. Call them, email them, post on their Facebook walls (yes, politicians have Facebook most of the time), tweet them, send a letter, show up to their office. I don't care what you do. But stop pointing fingers at one side or the other. It's the entire government who has failed us right now and they need to answer for that. Pointing fingers and casting blame is like hosting a party where someone spilled red wine on your brand new carpet and deciding to leave it there to stain until you've figured out who it was. Get it fixed! Do your part. I've done mine and will continue to do so. I've called and emailed. I will keep on with this. Quite frankly, I don't care who caused this. All I want is a resolution. And, if you are one of those people who disagree with me and think that every person in the government is just out for themselves and to screw with you, you're just letting them win if you're arguing on Facebook about whose fault it is because that takes your anger from them and directs it at someone who has no say in this. Sounds like a win/win for them, right? Stand up, folks. And, most importantly, stand together.

...and a final goodbye to the 20's...

2013-08-18T18:10:00.001-07:00

Thanks to friends, medication, doctors and a whole lot of stubbornness (which worked in my favor this time) I managed to start crawling my way out of a pit of despair that I wallowed in for the early part of my twenties. Things started finally looking up. I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do career-wise. But I knew it was time to do something different.

Providence struck. Mom has had her salon for 22 years. After that long of doing it by herself, she was burned out. (which is totally understandable). She and I decided to make a go of it together. It's been through many changes in the past 3+ years and is likely to go through many more. I won't go into all of it because (again) it's kind of boring. But I'll tell you how I feel about it.

Running the shop is stressful. There are a lot of people to worry about. There's a lot of little things that you have to pay attention to that nobody will ever see. But, what I can say is that it's been the best experience of my life. Mom and I never lost our relationship but my poor decisions in my early 20's definitely strained it. She was always there for me but I wouldn't let her be there. Since we have been working together these past few years, I can say that our relationship has never been better. She is truly my best friend. I am incredibly lucky to get to go to work and see my mom every day. More than that though is that our relationship is on such a totally different level than I ever could have expected. It's both mother/daughter and friend/friend and woman/woman and partners. I can talk to her about anything...even when she doesn't want to hear it! :) It's become far more than what I would have ever expected. It's a multifaceted relationship that uncovers new depths every day. Through all the stress we have with the shop (and believe me there is a lot) we both know that we're in it together. We don't have to face the challenges alone. And, more than that, there is a level of trust that I don't think either of us could imagine having with each other again--particularly after my "bad spell" (as she likes to call it).

A very unexpected surprise was the friendships I have developed with the women at the shop in the past 3 years. After growing up with boys all around me and working a lot in male-oriented industries, I didn't even realize that I was missing female companionship. I never really had it so I didn't know to miss it. However, my life has been blessed immeasurably by developing these relationships. While I probably will always feel more comfortable initially when being in the company of men, I now realize how necessary female friendships are. I have cried with these women and laughed with them. They have been with me at the end of relationships and celebrated with me now that I have finally found the kind of relationship I have always wanted. They're crass and classy at the same time. They're sensitive and powerful every single day. The strength of the bond we have amazes me every day. I think I had to go through some dark times to really appreciate the light that female bonds can bring to one's life.

The most important thing that I learned in the last years of my 20's was finally feeling 100% comfortable in my own skin. No longer did I feel like I had to depend on relationships (both with friends and with romantic partners) to be happy. I didn't have to have someone around me to feel ok. At around 26 I implemented "Sarah's Solo Date Nights" and I love every, single one that I have. For awhile, those "date nights" consisted of me going to dinner alone or attending happy hour alone. More recently, they are about spending an evening in with just my pups and reading, writing or watching TV. But the most important thing was learning to feel comfortable in my own skin. Sitting in a movie alone is freeing. Having dinner and focusing on, not just fueling your body, but filling up your soul is euphoric. Being able to sit at home and enjoy nothing more than cuddling with my dogs and eating junk food has now risen to the top of the list of my favorite things to do. Finding myself was the most important thing in my life. I don't need constant entertainment now. I don't need someone around me all the time. I don't need external pleasures to make my life worth it. I have that peace internally now and because I have learned how to just be, I never have to be lonely. I may be alone but I'm not lonely. I'm my own best friend and, for that, all of those years of hell were worth it.

And finally...because of that internal peace, because of being comfortable in my skin and because of knowing what I want, I have found the love that I wanted and the love that I deserve. David isn't my other half, because I'm whole on my own. He's my partner because I choose him, not because I need him. He's the man I can trust with all of my being because I learned how to trust myself. I don't have to have him. I choose to have him. And that makes me happier than anything in this world.

After our dramatic dating in our early 20's, he and I both grew. We came back into each other's lives when both of us were ok with ourselves. We don't depend on each other to be happy. We are happy because we were happy on our own. So now our happiness doesn't depend on each of us bringing something to the table. We are exponentially happier because we both know true happiness and we both know ourselves. He does not need me either. He chooses me. And that, quite honestly, is the best 30th birthday gift anyone could ever want. I have a successful, handsome, giving, caring, loving and trustworthy partner because I was able to find myself and then find someone with those qualities.

I'm not saying I'm perfect. I am far from it. I still have to work on things within myself. And I hope I always have to do that. I don't want to stop growing and learning and changing. I want every day to present a new challenge. Because I know I can handle it. I have chosen the wrong path before and I have seen where it takes me. I am now comfortable and able to see where I want to be. Nothing could be better.

To David: Thank you for loving me. Thank you for the craziness that is our lives. Thank you for seeing me for who I am. Thank you for being here through my flaws and for celebrating my attributes. My life was going all right by the time we came back into each other's lives but thank you for being the icing on my cake. Thank you for making the end of my twenties better than I dreamed possible. I would have been happy had we not come back into each other's lives romantically because I wouldn't know anything different but you have increased my happiness more than I know how to express. You are honestly what I never knew I always wanted. You're my best friend, my partner and the man who makes me smile even when I could cry. I'm better because of you.

To all of you who have been in my life during my 20's (however small or large of a part you played), I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have shaped me even if you didn't know it. For those who saw the good in me even when I couldn't, I cannot express how grateful I am to you. And for those who turned away when I was in a dark spot, I can't say I blame you at all! I know I wasn't easy to get along with at times. And I forgive you even if you don't ask for it. To those I hurt, you have my most sincere apologies and I hope you have seen that I'm not that person any longer. To those who loved me, I love you back.

I'll conclude with this. Twenties, we went through hell and back (and visited a couple more times). I'm glad to see you leaving but I thank you for all that you taught me.

And, Thirties, I suggest you watch out! I'm just getting started.

...goodbye 20's...the early & middle years

2013-08-18T17:07:00.001-07:00

This is a blog post I have been looking so forward to writing for a couple of years now. It's finally here and I could not be happier. If you're reading this, it's likely to be a long one. Also, don't expect it to be organized well. I'm just doing this off the cuff and really don't want to edit it--I just want to express my thoughts however they come. So get comfortable, grab a drink and snack and settle in. It's time to say goodbye to my twenties.

I don't think I appreciated it enough when people said how much I would grow, learn and change in my 20s. I knew that, of course, I would learn as I got older. But I didn't understand how difficult it would be--or how difficult I would make it.

To give a little background, I bought my first house at 19 and closed on it and moved in a couple months after my 20th birthday. I had a job making a decent living, a wonderful group of friends, a supportive family and my high school boyfriend who I had been dating since I turned 15. As my psychologist said, I peaked early. I was the person people asked advice from, I was the person who could lend a hand to others going through a bad time, I was the person my family knew they could depend on to be there. I grew up quickly, I acclimated to adult life extremely well, I was solid and secure. I had it together. I was pretty much "living the dream" at an early age. Thanks to some help from my family, to my ability to plan and save money, to a steady job, to a supportive group of folks around me, I was set for success. I was smart. I was willing to work. I was willing to learn. I didn't make rash decisions. I looked out for everyone else. I was dependable and friendly. I put others before me. I was, for all intents and purposes, a success. A nice house, some savings in the bank, stable relationship, I could afford a vacation here and there, a nice car and my life was laid ahead of me very well. The only thing I didn't have was peace and happiness. I was doing all of the things I should do. But I wasn't doing the things I wanted to do. The trouble was though, I didn't know what I wanted to do. I didn't really realize I wasn't at peace, I just thought that was normal life. I didn't have a big teenage rebellion. That's not to say that I was a perfect kid (my mom and dad would laugh at that notion!). But, all around, I pretty much did what was expected of me. I pretty much followed the rules. I pretty much assumed I'd graduate, maybe go to college or maybe go to work (I chose the work route), I'd buy my house, I'd get married, I'd settle down and pay my taxes and take 1 vacation per year and slowly plan for my retirement. And that's the path I was on. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that path in any way, shape or form.

Then one day I realized I hated it. Now, this doesn't make me special. A lot of people go through this. But I started looking around and I felt trapped. I felt like I didn't do anything for me. I did exactly what was expected of me (although it was honorable things) and that's it. I went to work, I went home. We had some dinner. We'd go to a movie. We'd maybe go fishing or to an amusement park. We'd go to bed early and get back up and do the same thing. Again, please hear me out, there was nothing wrong with that sort of life. However, it wasn't my life that I wanted. I didn't want to be a working housewife at 20 or 22 or 24. I didn't want to settle down and end up having kids. I didn't want to be the person who felt she had to be strong for everyone else and push her own needs to the side. Let me please explain that those were things I put on myself. This was all my interpretation of what was going on.

I didn't know what to do. At first I thought it was the relationship I was in. We dated from 15 until I was almost 21. So I thought, "Self, maybe that's it. Maybe you're unsettled because you don't really know what you want in a lifetime partner." We got engaged but I broke it off a month later. I will say that I loved that boy more than anything else in the world. We grew up together, we were part of each other's families, we were best friends. But...you're different at 20 than you were at 15. I thought maybe being single was the answer to my problems. We broke up. It was as amicable as things can be. In fact, we worked together for another year and a half or so after, if I recall correctly. It was hard to let him go. It was hard to lose that safety net. But I did know that I was no longer in love with him. We had, quite simply, outgrown each other. I think we were together because it was comfortable. We got along. We didn't have major fights. But it was time to move on. In true Sarah fashion, I feel hard for the next man who came into my life. I had been "in love" with him from about the time I was 10. I had a major crush on him when I was in middle school and he swept me off my feet once I was single. It was different, it was someone new, there were new fun and exciting things to learn with him. We laughed and had a lot in common. We liked each other's friends. I loved (and still love and adore) his family. It was whirlwind. We dated for a year, we became engaged, we planned the wedding. My mom bought the dress (sorry, mom), my dad paid for the deposits on the chapel and reception site (sorry, dad), my bridesmaids had their dresses (sorry, y'all), the invitations were ordered and addressed. We were fighting a lot. Wedding planning is stressful in the best of situations. This situation was not the best though. I rebounded with him quickly, I had broken up with my high school boyfriend because I didn't want to settle down and get married and here I was doing the same thing. So, I broke THAT engagement off. (sigh). Believe me, I've had the jokes about being the Runaway Bride, the jokes about being commitment phobic. I vowed to stay single for awhile. That lasted an entire 2 months. I ran into David, fell head over heels (can you sense a pattern) and we dated for about 3 months. I wasn't in a healthy spot, he wasn't in a healthy spot. We were both young and dumb and full of piss and vinegar. We were gunshy and, let's be honest, we weren't necessarily thinking with our hearts at that time. We broke up. And I AGAIN vowed to stay single for a long time. This time, it worked. (see, I can learn but I have to put myself through a living hell before I will listen to my brain)

So there I was at the ripe old age of 22 with 2 broken engagements under my belt and a freshly broken heart again. I had a whole lot of confusion. A whole lot of embarrassment. A whole lot of shame. (which I have since worked through. But to say that I didn't have much support when I broke off the 2nd engagement would be a massive understatement). Time went on and things began unraveling.

I was embarrassed in front of my family for breaking off engagements. I was angry at myself for being stupid and getting in relationships before I knew I was ready. I was scared to death of being involved with someone else because what if all of this was totally in my head? I was still functioning but I wasn't functioning well.

If you've read my blogs over the years, you know a lot of the rest of the details so I'll skip most of them or this blog will end up on par "War and Peace" as far as length.

So, now you kind of know where my mindset was about not knowing what I wanted from myself. I didn't know what I wanted from a partner (and didn't even know if I wanted one). I didn't know what I wanted to do for a career. I just didn't know. I was as lost as a person could be. Now, in retrospect, it doesn't seem so bad. But let me try to explain why this all hit me so hard. As I've said, I was always pretty dependable and responsible. So it was foreign to me to ask for help. Hell, I don't think I even knew that I could ask for help. (again, in retrospect, that's silly). Also, like I said, when breaking off my second engagement I had minimal support. I never really felt comfortable opening up with many people about what was really going on. So, my family assumed I was just being flaky. When I told a couple of them what happened, I was called a liar. Or, by one person in particular, that I deserved it. Which, perhaps may have been true. I knew going into it that it was too soon to establish another solid relationship but with the usual idiocy of youth, I did anyway. I have since made my peace with it and also with my former fiance.

That should lay a pretty good groundwork of my frame of mind up until about 22.

From there, things unraveled. My relationship with my family was in shambles. I chalk that up to misunderstandings, to me pulling away and to them being shocked at my behavior because it was so out of character for me. I refused to take part in my family. I didn't love them any less, I was simply ashamed and too embarrassed to face them. After my second engagement ended, I had "friends" who suddenly disappeared. I heard rumors that I had broken it off because I was sleeping with someone else (which is categorically untrue). Worse still, the person I was allegedly seeing was one of our group's mutual friends. Suddenly, my support system was fractured. For the first time in my life I didn't know how to handle things. I had experienced loss and trauma and the normal things everyone else does. But I always had at least some clue of how to handle things. I lost that ability.

I floundered for a few years. In addition to having 2 broken engagements under my belt, I also can now (sadly) say that I have to failed (thankfully!) suicide attempts on my record. I had 2 breakdowns. Well, let me rephrase that. I was having multiple breakdowns a month. But I had 2 that literally damn near killed me. I knew I didn't want to die but I knew for damn sure that I didn't want to keep living the life I was. I was broken, I was lost. I felt completely adrift, alone and helpless. Let me take a moment and tell you all that nothing is worth losing your life over. I don't care how bad you feel or how bad things are, there is nothing in this world that is worth killing yourself over. I have issued this invitation before but I'll say it again; if anyone out there ever feels this helpless, I implore you to find someone to talk to. Call a friend, call me, call your doctor, call a suicide helpline. You do whatever it takes to not have to go through that. You do not want to put yourself through that. There will be lingering psychological and physical trauma if you fail at it. And I sincerely hope you fail if you ever try to harm yourself. You don't want to feel that way, you don't want to have to look at your parents and realize that they brought you into this world and you're trying to take yourself out of it. I promise you, you can get help. But you have to not be so stubborn and bullheaded to ask for it. And if someone won't give it to you, find someone else. Work for it. Work for your life. Because it's amazing.

Now, I'll stop preaching.

So there I was in my mid-20's. I had succeeded in ruining my relationships (both romantic, platonic and familial). I ruined my credit. I ruined my mind. I ruined my self-esteem. But most of all, I ruined my word. People couldn't trust me. And how could they? I had lied and said I was ok. I had refused to ask for help. I had broken promises. I broke their trust. The most important thing you have in your life is your word. I lost that. In fact, I deserved to lose it. Not because I was a bad person, because I wasn't. I was a person in pain and a person who was lost and a person who didn't know how to get through it. I deserved to lose it because I didn't trust anyone else enough to be honest with them and tell them I was hurting. I refused to admit that I needed help. I was so prideful that I would rather have lost trust than I would have admitted that I needed someone to help me.

I knew something had to change. But it seemed insurmountable. Where do you even begin when you've lost everything? Where do you begin when you have gotten yourself in crushing debt? Where do you begin when you've pushed your family and friends away? Where do you begin when you've been in Lakeview's Crisis Stabilization Unit 2 times in 1 year? I suppose that answer is different for everyone.

I began with the person I felt I could trust most. I know this is strange to bring up an ex-boyfriend in an "end of decade" post when I'm deliriously happy and in love with David. But it's the truth and I would be remiss if I didn't mention Travis here. I truly credit him with saving my life, my sanity and my self-worth. (although, he sorely tested this at times. haha! But that's part of breaking up. We all get ugly at times and say things we don't mean. In the years since we broke up, he apologized to me for ugly things he said and I apologized to him and I can honestly say that I have the utmost respect for him).

I hurt my family. They couldn't understand me anymore. Nobody in our family ever just completely crashed and burned in such a glorious way before. None of them used drugs to dampen (or ignore) the pain, none of them used drinking for the same thing. None of them ever tried to harm themselves. They truly couldn't understand me even though they wanted to. And part of the reason they couldn't understand me is because I wouldn't let them understand me. They saw my pain and tried to help but I was not about to admit to them that I needed them. Remember, I was too prideful to admit how low I was.

But there was Travis. He knew me in ways that my family didn't. He (unfortunately for him!) came into my life when I was already broken and lost. I was willing to admit how much I needed help to him because he never knew me when I was "strong, responsible Sarah". I felt comfortable admitting my flaws to him. Hell, there was no way to not tell him when he saw it with his own eyes every single day. So, I started with him. I started opening up about my hurt and my pain and my fear and my shame. It felt good to finally get it out. It felt amazing to look at him and tell him, "I'm messed up" and see understanding and not judgment or shame. Now, I'm not going to go into all that happened and all that I went through in those times. Not because I'm ashamed but because (a) I've written about them a lot before and (b) it's kind of boring. :)

However, I was not about to write a blog about my 20's and not mention the person who I truly credit with saving me. There were others who continued to help. Two of my best friends "Africhris" (Chris Lett) and "Sgt. B" (Brian Forder) saved my life as well -- in a very literal sense. Travis saved me the first time I tried to kill myself and Chris & Brian saved me the 2nd. I owe those 3 men my actual life. I genuinely would not be here breathing if they had turned their backs on me. For that, I will always be grateful. Travis gets the big kudos here in this blog though because, not only did he physically save me, he saved me emotionally. He made sure I took my medication. He was there for me when I needed help. Even though he and I had a very off and on relationship for many years, he was still there as a friend when we weren't dating. He made sure I always knew I could talk to him. He made sure I knew there was no shame in asking for help. He did his best to get me to repair other relationships. He gave me a temporary place to live (when we weren't even dating) while I got back on my feet after making some MORE dumb decisions. Now, we ended up dating and ultimately living together later on. We realized that we drove each other insane (but insane in a normal way, not insane in a "time to lock up Sarah again" way.) We hurt each other, we said mean things, we lived a life and ultimately chose to go our separate ways. However, even when he "hurt" me with words, I knew it was healthy. (as strange as that may sound). It was a normal part of relationships. Everyone hurts their partner from time to time. And finally, the main way he saved me was that he treated me as if I were normal. He didn't treat me with kid gloves nor did he treat me as if I were inferior. When we got mad, we got mad. He wasn't afraid to hurt my feelings and that meant more to me than anything. It meant that I was ok. Every single person gets their feelings hurt, gets angry, gets happy, gets sad, gets emotional. And he treated me just like a normal person. And not a person who you have to handle with care because they might break down again. So, Travis, if you're reading this (which I doubt you are) thank you. I know I've told you that before. But I'm saying goodbye to my 20's and I wouldn't be able to do that had you not helped me out for so many years during my bad time. And, Lindsey, if you're reading this (which, again, I doubt you are) I hope you understand where I'm coming from and that I'm not being inappropriate with your man! ;) It does my heart good to see the 2 of you so happy! And FINALLY, David, if you're reading this (which, knowing you, you probably aren't! ha) I know you understand where I'm coming from too. And remember, the next time you get mad at me and want to strangle me, you should blame Travis for the fact that I'm still here to drive you crazy. I love you distraction and you're the best thing to happen to me in my life. And we'll get to you later in this blog anyway. ;) #ymm3p

So...whew...dang. That got a lot longer than I expected. I just scrolled up and realized how much I have written. I've basically gotten you all up to about 26 years old. For the sake of length, I am going to post my goodbye to 20's in 2 parts. I will be writing the rest of it later this evening. For now, I'm going to take a break and love on my puppies and collect myself. This has actually been somewhat emotionally draining but has also been good to look back and realize just how far I've come. And, if you're depressed after reading this, don't you worry your little head off. My later 20's get a lot happier and a lot less traumatic. So adios, early to mid 20's. You were rough on me but I was rough on you. I can't wait to regroup and remember the later 20's in just a bit. You'll just have to check out the next entry to find out how much better life got.

...how far we've come & a brief snapshot of Pensacola around the 1940's...

2013-08-09T10:52:00.001-07:00

I think we are all well aware of the craziness of technology today, even if we do take it for granted at times. For example, my dad came and met David and me yesterday to use his license to buy something for us. We had the money, but he needed to actually purchase the item. Thankfully all of us bank at the same credit union. David & I have each other on "buddy" lists so we can immediately transfer funds back and forth. My dad & I are on each other's buddy lists from a loan he gave me awhile ago so I can transfer into the account.

The cashier rang up the total and Dad gave her the card. Before the transaction was even finished, David & I had pulled out our phones and transferred the money from him to me and from me to Dad. It's something we now do every day and it just seems normal. But just standing in that store and realizing we had just used satellites from all over to transfer money 2 different times in a split second while we were standing in the store was a little mind boggling when I really started to think about it.

A few days ago I had a conversation with a friend online about things that are now normal to us but that we couldn't even imagine as kids. The one that blows my mind is video chatting. I remember seeing those phones as a young kid in Sci-Fi shows and movies and thinking, "That's so neat but there's no way that will EVER happen." Now I have a phone sitting in my pocket or purse at all times that has the ability to let me call pretty much everyone I know to video chat (or FaceTime as it's now called) all the time. Even my grandparents have smart phones. They text, email, google and all sorts of stuff from something the size of a deck of cards

I realized that if FaceTime was wild to ME, that it'd be very interesting to see what's crazy to them. I emailed my Pop and asked him this. Instead of answering my question simply (and if you know him at all, you're going to be surprised that I even expected a simple answer!) he wrote me a little synopsis. I thought it was a nice snapshot of what life was like in Pensacola (he's a native) all those years ago. I'd like to share it with y'all here. For reference, Pop was born in 1932.

"Sarah - See if you can understand how we lived and what we did for entertainment. We were very happy with what we had. My big fun was hunting with my BB gun. Catching turtles, snakes, rabbits, possums and any other wildlife. Later came Boy Scouts and camping on Perdido Rivier. Camping in the fields around the swamp just West of Meridith Lumber (which was not in existence until late 1940). There were no houses from Palafox North of Meridith all the way to Detroit Blvd at the railroad tracks. Where WalMart is now on Highway 29 was a Tung Oil Orchard from Palafox to the Frisco railroad tracks.

Nine Mile road and all other roads in Ensley were dirt, including Pine Forest Road. There was no city bus until after around 1945. They ran every one & a half hours from downtown Pensacola at Government Street to the intersection of 9 1/2 Mile Road (which was then Literman Road) and Palafox. Then they ran back South to Olive Road and over to Ferry Pass Highway (which is now David Highway). They went South to Brent Lane, West to Palafox and back downtown to Government St.

This bus was #8 Ensley. It cost $.05 to go one way. You could see a movie downtown for $.10 (and you could see the same movie all day). A candy bar was $.05. By afternoon, my $.25 was spent (broke again). I went to Tate High School in 9th grade, then rode the city bus to Pensacola High for 10th, 11th and 12th grade. I went to Mississippi College and graduated in 1955 with a B.S. in Math, Business, Physics and Art. I was married in 1955 and you know the rest!"

Now, this may not be of great interest to a lot of you. But it was just a neat little snapshot into a day in the life of a kid in Pensacola years ago. I am going to ask him about some more Pensacola stories and see what he says. Also, maybe this time I can get him to answer my original question. This all started from wanting to know what technology was craziest to him. ;) But I'm glad he answered this way. It's a whole new dialogue!

...no means no...does yes mean yes?...

2013-08-06T19:32:00.001-07:00

I was just on a website I visit and ran across a comment about "yes" and "no". This particular poster started to relate this to sex and rape and posted this:
"This is why I'm a proponent for enthusiastic consent. Even if there are women out there who say no, but don't really mean it, you're risking having sex with someone who genuinely does mean it, but might not be assertive enough to make a big scene out of saying no, or might give in because of the pressure, etc."

She then related a story from her younger years. (She didn't give an age). The synopsis is that she was making out with a boy and he kept moving his hands from her breasts to her genitals. She kept pushing him away and said that she wasn't in the mood, she was ok with just making out and that she didn't want to have sex. She says that she eventually acquiesced because they were spending the day together later and she didn't want to make it an uncomfortable situation. This is the reason she is teaching her sons to be sure they receive an "enthusiastic yes." While I DO feel for her because of the pressure, I think this is unfair. As a woman, I can feel the pressure she receives from society as a whole to not be a "tease", to make sure you're not confrontational, to be made to feel guilty if she says no. I get that. I've been there. I totally understand.

However, one thing I cannot ignore about her post was making sure a man has an "enthusiastic yes". I questioned her on this and she responded with this: "If a woman (or whomever your partner of choice is) isn't excited about whatever physical thing you're asking for, then don't do it. She should want to do it (with you), not feel guilty if she doesn't do it. It's a HUGE cultural problem." (that is copy & pasted verbatim, by the way).

Again, please let me express that I agree that the pressure on women to say yes IS a huge cultural problem.

However, she and I disagree on one major point. I am not certain that it's the man's responsibility to decipher what she really means. In fact, I am certain it is not his responsibility to read your mind. To me, this is on par with allowing a man to say, "Well, she said no but she wasn't enthusiastic enough so I went ahead with it."

Women, I hope you are reading this and can understand where I am coming from. YES, it's deplorable that we have such societal pressure to just go through with things we don't want so that we don't come across in a negative light. However, I cannot stress this enough; the onus is on US to say what we are feeling. We do not get to give our permission verbally but feel that we are being violated and then call it rape. The same way it is unacceptable for a man to ignore you saying no, it is unacceptable to blame a man when you say yes and don't mean it.

Quite honestly, this kind of thinking infuriates me. We want to be treated as equals and we want to be respected. It's NOT a man's job to make you feel this way. It's YOUR job to have respect for yourself and demand that from others. We cannot go around preaching, "No means no" and in the very same breath say, "Yes means, maybe. But only if you can decipher if I really mean it."

Don't blame others if you don't speak up. The minute you silence yourself or go against your better judgment and say yes, the responsibility is yours.

Again, we try to teach others that no means no. If that's what we truly believe and what we really have to abide by then yes has to mean yes...not yes means yes, unless it means no, in which case I perhaps mean maybe. If not, you're devaluing the word itself. Stop blaming men (and I use men as my point in this post because I am a straight female..this should apply to anyone) for your problems with feeling pressure. It is up to us to make the difference. It is up to us to learn how to say no and mean and to learn how to say yes when we mean it. No more beating around the bushes, no more excuses, no more lies.

...on the Blue Angels...

2013-04-11T15:43:00.000-07:00

Ok friends. I KNOW we're all upset about the Blue Angels. I truly do. I know they affect the economic impact of Pensacola Beach (and of many other towns across the world). However, I wish we could get up in arms about something else.

Yes, we need a draw for the beach proprietors. Yes, we need to invest in our local economy. And yes, the Blue Angels do provide this to us. I love the Blue Angels, I'm proud to be where their home is (why, exactly, I don't know. It's not like I have anything to do with them personally...but I digress)

However, sequestration is about more than the Blues. I haven't done an extreme amount of research on this (I admit). But I believe each plane costs about $20 million. Then, once they're commissioned, shipped and outfitted correctly, they cost roughly $56 million per plane. It's roughly $85 million to train a fleet of 14 planes. Additionally, support personnel costs about $5 million. Pilot salaries are an additional $12 million annually. For all of their shows, it is roughly $12 million in fuel costs. And an additional $2 million towards lodging, travel, per diem, meals, etc. Now, that's a whole lot of money. (I believe their budget per year funded by taxpayers is roughly $40 million a year). Please don't hold me to these exact numbers. I have only given these a cursory glance.

Now, perhaps they bring into local businesses more than their costs of operation. (I could see how it's possible but, again, I have no real data, this is more an off the cuff reaction). AND, from some things I've read, this only saves $1 million dollars per show (I think they do 34 shows? Correct me if I'm wrong. And I know some of them are 2 day shows) by grounding them. And one could certainly argue that it's a negligible amount compared to our astronomical debt. Perhaps we should eat the $1 million savings per show in order to keep morale at the places the Angels fly. Perhaps taxpayers should be glad to spread this out among ourselves knowing that, when we do have the Blues fly, we do have a large influx of dollars coming into our local economy and spreading it out to local businesses. So let's say this totals up to $50 million that we're saving (and I'm guessing at that figure. Again, I know there are several 2 day shows but I assume that decreases travel and fuel prices so I don't want to totally double the amount). There are roughly 20,000 incorporated cities in the US. So that means there are around 19,996 cities paying for this even though they receive none of the upsides of having the blues (not including unincorporated towns...of which I have no clue how many there are).

Anyway, my point is this (now that I've rambled). I can see both sides of this. I would LOVE to see the Blue Angels fly. It's part of home. It's part of the Navy. It's a point of pride for us and many other cities. It's camaraderie, it's fellowship, it's taking part in your town. I do see this and I do wish we could have this again...and very soon.

HOWEVER, I see a LOT of my friends who are against any frivolous government spending yet they are now up in arms about this because it affects them. Please don't think that I'm saying the Blue Angels are worthless, I think I have explained how I feel they boost us in more ways than one. But, at the end of the day, it is a taxpayer funded entertainment venture. I love it. I want to see them fly. I love the roar of them practicing over my house. I love knowing that our community and our businesses reap the benefits of having them here. But I am seeing so much judgment. (My favorite being "Blue Angels are being cancelled but I haven't seen one free government phone caught off. COMPLETELY disregarding the fact that Reagan started "free" home phones (Lifeline) and Bush extended it to cell phones in 2008 (SafeLink) AND the fact that it is in 38 states and also isn't a taxpayer funded venture. SafeLink phones are funded with a pool of money called the Universal Service Fund which is paid for with donations from telecommunication services. Often, providers pass this fee onto its customers with a 'Universal Service Fee'. -- so be pissed off at Verizon who charges us all this fee -- The government does not mandate that money come from citizens either, meaning it's not a 'tax'...also, please don't take this as an ode to Obama being great, it isn't. He's a disappointment as well).

So, it seems like the Blue Angels being grounded has turned into an "Obama sucks and hates the Blue Angels and he's just supporting stupid poor people who don't deserve anything anyway" instead of "Obama needs to get his head out of his ass and figure out how to control the lawmakers to balance a budget because it affects every single one of us"

Additionally, sequestration is affecting far more people in far harder ways than the Blue Angels being grounded. Yes, it's going to be hard for the owners of Pensacola Beach businesses to have a banner year without the Blues flying. HOWEVER, can you not see that depending on your business to do well based on the government funded Blue Angels is the same thing as what so many rail against? Everyone is upset when the phones go to the poor or furious when people abuse the welfare system (I am included in those people who are angered) but WHY is it now ok to be angry at the government for not funding something that you chose to rely on to have a good year at your business? It's not fair. It's all the same, folks.

It's time to stop making fun of people who genuinely need help (go ahead and hate on the abusers, I'll be right behind you). Realize that, like it or not, we ALL depend on the government for something.

Be angry. Be loud. DEMAND your representatives actually represent you. Make a call, write a letter, visit your representative. Be part of the solution, not part of the problem.

And, I'll tell you, your meme on Facebook about how the poor are having it so bad and you can't get your 4th of July flyover is contributing to the problem. You're pointing fingers, you're looking for someone to blame, you're making damn sure everyone knows you're upset but it's not your fault because you just want your show. Stand up, fight...stop bitching, pissing and moaning. And, for the love of all that is holy, let's remember that if we lose the Blue Angels for a year, we'll pick ourselves up by our bootstraps, we'll get creative, we will find a way and we will all be ok. If all you're concerned about with sequestration is the Blues, maybe take a moment and find out about the people suffering from it every day. Those who have already lost their livelihoods, those who can't find a government job they were depending on, those who are on the verge of losing everything because our damn politicians can't come to an agreement. Ask them what they'd rather have...their Air Show or their dignity back?

...on complaining...

2013-04-05T21:00:00.002-07:00

I got to thinking about the philosophy I believe in that speaking words into existence gives them power (both good and bad). I don't mean that in a mystical way. I just believe that once you speak something, it's out there, you've said it, you've committed to your words. I realized that I often complain. Not about anything major. Just the normal stuff that we all complain about.

Many of my complaints are "Man, I'm tired", or "OH COME ON, I hate traffic", or "I wish so and so wouldn't do such and such", "I wish I didn't have to get up early", "Ugh, the dog popped on the rug", "Man, they're playing video games too much", "I can't believe how much gas is". Just the general minutiae of everyday life. Nothing earth shattering. However, I realized that I was giving power to the things over which I have no control by spewing a constant stream of fussing.

I challenged myself to go a full 24 hours without a complaint being voiced. I was going to keep it to myself. I wasn't denying myself the ability to feel irritated or put out. I was denying myself the privilege of voicing it. I honestly didn't know if I would make it. It's not something I think about constantly, but it had become a part of my vocabulary. It was a part of recapping my day to David. It was a part of my day to complain about my day.

Here's what I found out. Once I stopped voicing the words, I wasn't as annoyed. Ok, the dog puked. Instead of complaining, I just picked it up, I cuddled him and went on with my day. My plans changed. Instead of saying it out loud, I brushed it off and went with the flow. I found peace in that. By speaking it, I was letting it linger. I was putting it out there for others to have to hear. By others hearing it, they would invariably ask me about it later. Which meant that a minor annoyance suddenly became the topic of conversation.

I found that I wasn't as annoyed. I found that David responded to me better. I found that I was friendlier, I was less stressed, I was happier. Nothing changed. I still got caught in traffic, I still got annoyed by something someone said, I still got irritated at the person who didn't use their blinker, I still got aggravated when my plans were changed. But by not voicing the words, I took away the power of that to further mess up my day.

I can't say that I'll always be good about this. I do believe that venting can be good for you. I don't believe in suppressing all of your feelings just to appear zen. However, I do think I learned that not letting words be spoken over trivial things, those trivial things left my mind. I saw an immediate improvement in my attitude. I saw an immediate improvement in the way I spoke to David. In turn, I saw that he was more open with me, he was happier, we were happier. I was happy at work (albeit busy...which, I probably would have complained about instead of rejoicing in the fact that I was busy). People responded to me differently.

It didn't take a miracle. It didn't require hours and hours of therapy. It didn't require that I change my life. It simply required keeping my mouth shut (which, if you know me, is incredibly difficult) to see an immediate improvement in the quality of my life, my work and my relationships. I think I'm going to keep this going.

And, I strongly suggest you try it. It's just one day. 24 hours to improve your mood, your outlook and your relationships. It was worth it.

...a rare political rant...

2013-03-12T18:58:00.002-07:00

Read this article. Seriously, go ahead. I don't care WHAT your political stance is, read this. I have a reaction. I'm needy enough to need you to read this before giving me your reaction. Pardon my narcissism.

Where The Sun Don't Shine

"President Obama promised transparency and open government. He failed miserably. So why do Washington watchdog groups look the other way?"

"Regardless of who occupies the White House, I understand that power wants power. Scrutiny just gets in the way." - Paul D. Thacker, author of this article.

Sadly, this is true. I enjoy seeing an article criticizing actual flaws in any public figure. Unfortunately, there have been blatant lies on each side of the aisle. Also, unfortunately, many people want to turn a blind eye to the person for whom they voted.

In order to have a "more perfect government", WE need to be the ones who criticize those who voted against AND those we voted for who have delved into the ugly place of lies that only politics can nurture. Obama voters, don't turn a blind eye to things that are consistently going wrong. Naysayers, look at his ACTUAL action instead of his perceived actions you think he's doing. Research, read, comprehend. Both sides, get off of your high horses. Praise those who make good decisions, condemn those who make poor decisions. (Spoiler alert: These are often the same people)

For example, I'm not a huge fan of Rand Paul, but you can bet your ass I was watching that filibuster until it ended. Some folks said it was futile; I say it was courageous. Now, again, let me stress. I am not a Rand Pual fan. However, I could set that aside because what he was doing was good. It was right to me, therefore, I celebrated it and I congratulate him.

On the other side, I support a LOT of Obama's social policies. I support healthcare for all (although I'm not sure whether he has the right idea or not...I still support the theory). I support his desire for gays to be totally equal with the marriage laws of everyone else. However, I do not....I will not support this secretive government when we were promised more transparency. I did not support the "Patriot Act", I will NOT support something that, I feel, makes the Patriot Act pale in comparison.

This isn't college football folks. This isn't the Super Bowl. This isn't time to pull for your favorite team no matter what. This isn't some kid punching yours in the playground because your child made him eat sand. This is life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And we're losing that. Not in every way. I don't know that I think Obama is trying to call it a Holiday Tree instead of a Christmas tree and I don't care. I don't believe they are trying to mark us like the Antichrist with Obamacare.

All I DO know is that we need transparency. We need liberals, conservatives, Tea Partiers, Republicans, Democrats, Independents, Green Party, Sally who sells Seashells by the Seashore to STOP spreading lies about what this administration (or any administration) is perceived as doing. We all need to be spreading the truths that are concrete and accurate and about which we are righteously angry; not the things we see on Facebook that are a cute picture with an, oftentimes, out of context statement.

Disclaimer: I am not saying EVERYTHING in the above article is accurate. I am simply saying this article got me thinking and saddling up my high horse.

...an amusing pickup attempt...

2013-03-07T18:47:00.002-08:00

I tend to normally blog about some fairly serious stuff that I'm working through. After talking with my psychologist, he suggested sharing some fun and lighthearted stuff as well from time to time. (I think he just said that so that everyone doesn't think I'm down in the dumps and stressed nonstop. I am a generally happy person, but I tend to only write about serious issues that I'm working out in my head so it's possible people would start to feel more depressed while reading about me.)

Anyhow, here's an amusing little story from my day.

I went to my bank to throw my jar of coins in the coin counter. I get into line to deposit it and there's this fella standing in front of me. He's probably about 55 or so. Somewhat disheveled looking (not inappropriately so, you could just tell he worked a manual labor sort of job). I'm wearing jeans and a Paul Mitchell shirt that says "Relax, I'm a Professional" (which I'm not, but it was free and we carry Paul Mitchell, so there you have it). Over there, I'm wearing a stylists smock that just says "Paul Mitchell" across the front.

I'm paying very little attention to what's going on around me and he's probably about 5 feet away. I'm messing around with my phone while I was waiting (likely playing with Facebook and making some unnecessary status update that nobody cares about). Suddenly I can feel him getting closer to me. I glance up and he's RIGHT next to me reading my shirt (that's halfway hidden under my smock, so it was a little strange). This is our conversation. And I swear to you, I am not making this up.

Him: "You're a professional?"
Me: (to avoid further conversation) "Yep, that's what my shirt says"
Him: "What sort of professional?"
Me: "I work at a hair salon."
Him: (I swear) "Oh cool. My dad taught me trigonometry by the time I was 14. I bet you don't know many people who can say that do you?"
Me: "Ummm. No, I guess I can't."
Him: "Yeah, he was a surveyor and wanted me to be one."
Me: ::silence::
Him: "So...yeah. He taught me that. All my teachers were shocked that someone so young knew trigonometry. I was basically a prodigy."
Me: "Oh, that's cool."
Him: "But I decided not to get into surveying. It was boring."
Me: "Right"
Him: "So I went into the service. I was there for awhile. Women like men in uniforms, right?"
Me: "Well, I guess some do."
Him: "Do you?"
Me: "No, not really. I mean, I respect them but it doesn't really do anything for me."
Him: "Well, I realized that, so I got out of the service and went back to surveying. And you know what..........? I STILL remembered trigonometry."
Me: "Well that's good it stuck with you."
Him: "But, you know, I didn't want to stick with it because it wasn't exciting to women."
Me: "Hmm. Ok" ::checks phone::
Him: "But then I realized I wasn't making good money with what I was doing."
Me: "Yeah, I hear ya."
Him: "So do you know what I did?"
Me: "I sure don't."
Him: "Well, do you want to guess?"
Me: ::silence:: then to myself, "OMG! WHY is this line so long?" then "Well, I guess you're going to tell me"
Him: "I went BACK to surveying. Can you believe that?"
Me: "Well, I guess so since you're saying it."
Him: "And I've only been doing it for a little while. I work out at the mill."
Me: "That's good. An honest living, that's awesome."
Him: "Here...take this." and hands me his paycheck.
Me: "I, uh, why? I don't need this."
Him: "No, no, no. Look at it."
Me: I look at it. It's $975 or something. (which is good money around here, I'm not denying that at ALL. I wish I made that much a week)
Him: "Do you SEE that?"
Me: "Yes, I do."
Him: "That's for one week of work. Isn't that amazing?"
Me: "Yep, that's pretty good money. More than I make a week or even two. Congrats."
Him: "I know. And that's just a week. In a year I'll be making even more. Most people in Pensacola have never seen that money."
Me: "Mmmm. Hmmm."
Him: "Are you married?"
Me: "No, but I have a boyfriend"
Him: "Well you need to tell him to get into surveying. You're pretty, you deserve a man like me but you already have a boyfriend. You should just tell him to get into surveying or you may, haha, leave him one day for someone like me."
Me: "Ok, I'll be sure to let him know."
Him: "I mean, you don't even know. He probably has never dreamed of this money. You know, you should really think about letting me take you to dinner. I could treat you better than him. I bet he would die to make this sort of money."
Me: "Mmm hmm. I don't think he'd be too happy about that, but thanks."
Him: "Honey, you don't know what you're missing. I'M the kind of man you should be with. You don't want to stay with a man who can't make money like me and take care of you."
Me: "He's an electrical engineer who travels constantly. He wouldn't even show up to work if all he could take home is $975 a week" (normally, I would NEVER say this but he wouldn't stop pushing)
Him: ::dead silence::

It's FINALLY his turn to get to the teller.

Teller: "Hi sir, how are you?"
Him: "I'm doing well. That's a pretty watch you have on. Did your husband buy you that?"
Her: "Yes, he did. It was an anniversary present."
Him: "I just bought my wife a watch almost similar just with more diamonds..."

And that, friends, was my little trip to the credit union.

...inspired by another blog...

2013-02-25T13:47:00.000-08:00

I have an acquaintance of mine from high school who has a gorgeous shop and who regularly blogs and shares herself with everyone. I am constantly in awe of the things she designs. They're so beautiful and whimsical. Take some time to check out her site if you're looking for that special something, Emily Ley. While she and I have markedly different lives, paths, beliefs and interests, I thoroughly enjoy keeping up with what she does. One of the things she holds true to is this, "I will hold myself to a standard of grace, not perfection."

As Oprah would say (yes, make fun of me) it was an "A-ha Moment". I was very hard on myself in the past and have made a conscious effort now to focus on grace and not on being perfect. I've never been accused of being perfect and we all know I have made countless mistakes. But my biggest part of being able to move on was that I kept holding onto the anger inside of me for not being perfect when, instead, I should have been focusing on how to be graceful about my failures. Emily, if you're reading this, I cannot thank you enough. While I know we are just passing friends, you impacted my life, my self worth and my happiness more than you will ever know because of sharing that thought of yours.

However, in the past several days I started to look outward of myself and see where else this statement applies. I am extremely lucky in having the people I have in my life. They are wildly varied. From artists and musicians to engineers and lawyers. From straight laced to freewheeling. From the devoutly religious to the extreme athiests. I am close to parents and people without children. From single folks to divorced folks and everything in between. Clearly this means I have varied personalities in my life. While this is great it is also trying at times. I saw that I was also holding them to a standard of perfection and not grace. That's not fair at all. I expected (subconsciously, of course) for them to be perfect to me and then I'd be perfect to them. Instead I should have been saying, "It's ok that you don't see things the way I see them. Your standard is grace with me, not perfection. Keep on being you and I'll keep on loving you regardless of how differently we feel about certain things." It was a lovely epiphany.

This also reminds me that there are others out there who don't succumb to this theory. I have found myself in some situations where I feel like no matter what I do, it's just not good enough for the other person. And it becomes very frustrating when you know you're doing your best and you know you're trying yet someone refuses to see that and, instead, chooses to hold you to their idea of perfection. I have realized that I simply cannot do that. I currently have one person in my life who, I feel, holds me to perfection and anything less than that is simply unacceptable. In years past, I would have continued to try to achieve their level of perfection or at least pretend to so I could be in their good graces. I realized though that I can simply choose to remain outside of their main circle. It's not to cut them out of my life. It's to protect myself and know that I am operating within my definition of grace and that is all I can do. Perhaps this person will come around but it isn't extremely likely. And that's ok. It is ok for this person to do that. It's not a reflection of me. It's a reflection of the standards to which they hold everyone else. I can breathe easier realizing this. I can't be angry at this person. I can, however, allow this person all of my grace and think, "It's all right that you don't 'get me', it's all right that you think I'm not doing things well enough. I'm doing this for me and I'm happy with myself and the way I handle my life."

Again Emily, thank you for sharing of yourself. You've made me realize how to heal some things within myself. And by applying this to others, I now know that I don't have to be angry and defensive; I can simply be graceful.

...stop the comparisons...

2013-02-10T20:02:00.001-08:00

I spent a little time today reading through my 100 Simple Secrets of Happy People book. (By the by, if you haven't figured it out yet, I HIGHLY recommend this short, easy read. It's $11 on Amazon right now. I'm sure you can pick it up even cheaper than that elsewhere. If you're an iTunes kind of person, they have it for $6.99 right now.)

The chapter that I read today a few times is "Choose Your Comparisons Wisely."

The author, David Niven, Ph.D, writes "When we compare ourselves to those who have more, we feel bad. When we compare ourselves to those who have less, we feel grateful. Even though the truth is we have exactly the same life either way, our feelings about our life can vary tremendously based on who we compare ourselves with. Compare yourself with those examples that are meaningful but that make you feel comfortable with who you are and what you have." (bold part was my emphasis)

It's hard to remember this for me. It's incredibly simple to look at someone else who has more money or more cars or a bigger house or a yacht or a big bank account or more friends. That can make me feel bad. But I can compare myself with those friends of mine who have no job, no family, no transportation and a lot of heartache and feel grateful I don't have to go through that. What he said rings true to me. Regardless of what ANYONE else has or doesn't have doesn't change my life at all. Mine is still ticking along at the same pace and people who have it better or worse than me have no bearing on what my life actually is.

Also, I have learned this throughout my life. Many people who seem to have the perfect life often have many problems about which I will never know. Also, many people who seem to have less than me are perfectly happy and content in their lives. Once you find your happiness, it can't be taken away. Some people feel happy to make 6 figures a year, even at the expense of their family lives. Some people feel happy by focusing on their family and friends and don't mind making $30k a year. Some folks have it balanced. Some are always wishing for more. Some are constantly in a state of turmoil. But you can find those folks across ALL income brackets. I know happy people that live so simply and are thrilled with it. I also know people who live lives of excess and are thrilled with it. Conversely, I know people who live simply and hate their lives and some people who live "high on the hog" and hate their lives. I would posit that it's because they are constantly comparing themselves to what everyone else has or doesn't have.

So, from now on, instead of basing my happiness based on the fact that I have it better than others, I will look inside of me and see what it is that makes me happy. And instead of basing my accomplishments against others who have achieved more, I will pay more attention to what I have done.

My happiness is not based on my comparisons. My happiness is based upon my goals and dreams and nothing else. No more beating myself up over not having the "best" of everything. And no more trying to make myself feel better compared to others who have less. My life is exactly the same regardless of what other people have. I can't wait to move forward from here.

...my confession..

2013-02-08T12:43:00.003-08:00

It's time for a confession. I have kept this hidden my entire life. I have never discussed this with friends or family or even my psychologist. The one person who knows about this is David and I don't think he really understands how extreme it is but he's the first person I've felt comfortable enough with to divulge this information.

I struggle, very hard, with being around people. I know this seems surprising to people who know me well. I work very hard at keeping it under control. I seem to be very social (or at least seemed to be for a long time). I am often surrounded by people, I'm often out and I have people over when David is in town. And I usually enjoy it once I get into my comfort zone. However, there are times when it is brutal for me.

I have a lot of friends who have invited me over to their homes, I have VERY few friends whose homes I have never visited. I can't tell you where most of my friends live. I have no idea what their homes look like. I also have friends who invite me to places with a bunch of their friends and I don't know and I don't go. I also have a bunch of friends who have never seen the inside of my house.

None of this is personal at all. I have some social anxiety at times. I get uncomfortable, I get panicky, my heart races, I sweat. I also get very quiet. I have a hard time talking. I stay very quiet and withdraw into a "safe space" in my head.

I figured that, at the age of 29, it was finally time to get this out there. It's nothing to be ashamed of. And the only way to truly figure out who I am on my new journey of peace and happiness is to let people know these things.

Here's a few explanations. One, I have very real control issues that I struggle with. I don't like to feel like I'm trapped or like I have no way of leaving. (hence the reason I don't ride with people). I also, and I know this is silly, have some very real food issues that cause me anxiety. Again, I know how ridiculous that sounds. But hear me out and you might at least be able to say, "Well, I don't totally get it but I do see how this could be an issue in her own mind."

My control issues are because I spent a lot of my life having to be in control of EVERYTHING and I am extremely uncomfortable when I'm not. This is something I've worked on and have gotten better about. But it's still a struggle sometimes. This isn't a debilitating as it was. It's a very small portion of my social anxiety that I have under control. But it rears its head every now and then.

Now, as far as visiting friends homes. This should be a simple no brainer. I like my friends. I like hanging out at home. We all win. Not so fast, buster. (yes, I say buster)

When I was younger, my house was almost ALWAYS the only hangout spot other than a bar or restaurant (I was 19 when I bought my house so the bar wasn't an option for me anyway). I was the only one of my friends who owned a house and the only one with enough parking and room inside and a back porch/yard that everyone could hang in. This was awesome. I enjoyed it so much. Some of my fondest memories are from evenings spent on the back porch hanging out with some of my favorite people. However, there were times (a lot of times) that it became a hassle. Since we were at my house, a lot of people just assumed I'd pay for everything. (Which I have NO problem with at all. I'd do it every time someone came over if I could.) But there were a lot of times that I felt taken advantage of. The negative part of being the "go to" house meant that there were often tons of strangers by. They'd eat, drink, make a mess and leave. I ended up growing to resent it. Not my friends, but the way they didn't realize the trouble that I went to in order to pay for everything and clean everything up on my own.

So NOW when I go to someone's house, I always always show up with a bottle of wine and/or a 6 pack of beer. Or maybe mixers. Or chicken wings or whatever. Then I stay and clean up. Or I get there early and help them get ready. And I enjoy doing every minute of that. BUT I have this fear that maybe I'm not doing enough. Then my brain goes, "maybe they're secretly resentful that I am over there. Or maybe I shouldn't have worn my shoes in their house? Or, wait, what if I was supposed to leave them on? Can I answer this text or is that rude? What happens if I overflow their toilet? Should I hand wash these dishes or leave them here? Should I unload the dishwasher or is that considered snooping? What if I leave too early? What if I leave too late? If we're watching a movie, should I put in my 2 cents? Or is it the host's decision? Should I sweep the kitchen after everyone leaves or is that insulting them? Should I take out the garbage? Should I offer them money if they're hosting a big cookout and I didn't bring the right food? Can I ask to use some garlic if my food I DO bring doesn't taste right? Should I park in their driveway? Should I park in the street? What if I block someone in? What if the food I brought isn't cooked right and someone gets sick? What if they have a cat and it makes me sneeze? What if they invite my dogs over to play with theirs and mine pee inside? Do I need to dress up?" The list goes on...and on...and on. And these are the thoughts that run through my head the MINUTE someone invites me over. I don't even have to be in the door before this overwhelms me. It's very easy for someone to say, "Stop over thinking it. They invited you. They want you there. You're there friend. Just be yourself and it'll be all fine." That's very easy to say but nearly impossible for me to do.

But, for the sake of argument, let's say I DON'T think any of this. Let's say I get these under control and my friend says, "Hey, Sarah, I want you to come over for dinner tonight. Just pick up some wine and we'll hang out and talk. I'll take care of dinner." And I realize that I don't have to obsess over all the things that I COULD do wrong from the previous paragraph.

We have part 2 of this now. My eating issues. I do not have an eating disorder or anything of the sort. I love to eat. I don't binge or purge. I don't starve. Food is awesome and I dig it. Here's the rub, I don't eat vegetables. Like any of them. (well, I eat corn and lima beans. That's it) So, here I am at their house and they've made salmon and asparagus. Well, I don't eat that. Or they've made a delicious smelling pot of chili. But there are chunks of tomatoes and onions and peppers. Or spaghetti with the same. Or they have potato salad or regular salad or pasta salad. Or it's corned beef and cabbage night. Or they've picked up sushi. Or they're having chicken gizzards. Or they made a tuna casserole. Or they've ordered Chinese or Thai. Or they've made .. well, pretty much anything that isn't meat or starch. Now I'm stuck. I don't eat any of that. So what do I do? Do I try to choke it down and end up gagging and embarrassing myself? Or do I say, "I don't care for that" and end up with THEM feeling like a bad host? Or do I tell them ahead of time and feel like an ass because it's very likely messing up their entire meal plan? None of those are viable options. I realize my food issues are my own. And, quite honestly, I'm embarrassed by them. I really do try. My parents tried everything to get me to eat. Sending me to bed hungry, bribery, punishment, begging and pleading. I'm sure it stressed them out to no end. And I'm very embarrassed by the way I eat...or rather the things I don't eat. Now, I'm stuck with feeling like a jerk if I tell them beforehand because I don't expect them to cater to me. Or I'm stuck feeling like a jerk because I can't eat what they worked hard to prepare. Or I'm stuck feeling like a jerk because I'm insulting them by gagging over their food.

So, instead of doing that, I just stay home. It's easier. I don't feel embarrassed. I don't insult someone by not eating. It truly is 90% of the reason you will not see me at anyone's house for dinner. I will go to Christian and Jolene's because they just chuckle at me and make sure I have something to eat. I will go to Thomas's because I've known him for years and years and he knows I'm weird and doesn't care. Other than that, I find it to be nearly impossible to feel comfortable going to someone's house. And that's awful because then I feel like a horrible friend.

This ended up being far longer than I expected. I didn't realize the level of my neuroses until I saw them typed out. I'm sure, at another time, I'll delve into my public social anxiety situations and start working through them. But at least, I hope, I have explained why I turn down your offers to join you and your family or friends for dinner.

I hope you all know it truly is not you. It's me. I love ALL of my friends. I feel bad because I get caught up in the cycle that goes through my head. So, thank you to all who have invited me for dinner or lunch or happy hour or just a night watching a movie. I hope to work on this and be able to be more comfortable. I miss feeling comfortable enough to sit down in a home with people I love and enjoy the evening. So, if you stop asking, I will not be offended. But, if you continue, maybe one of these days I will say yes.