just a perfect day...

so this is my idea of a perfect day

when i say perfect day, i don't mean amazing day.  this isn't a day where i lose a hundred pounds then go on a date with...dang...who would i go on a a date with? lets just say *insert attractive celebrity i'm a fan of here*

this isn't a day of roller coasters with no waiting lines.
this isn't a day of flawless marching band performances
of starring in broadway shows
of touring europe
of constant rock concert dancing.

this is a perfect day, which means that nothing is wrong with it.  it means that just because nothing particularly awesome is happening, doesn't mean that there is anything inherently wrong with the day.

on this day i wake up on time.  and i get up, on time.
i shower.
i get dressed in clean clothes and i don't freak out about how i look in them.
i eat breakfast.
i take my medication.  i don't know what medication this is, but it helps me focus on what i need to do, and helps me not have anxiety attacks about doing it.
i go to work.
i don't know what job this is.  but it is a job where i work with people, and i'm doing something positive for society.  and i don't feel like my soul is dying.
i go home.
i hobby.  i might exercise.  i might practice my clarinet or learn another instrument.  i might make something.  i might read.
i go out with my friends, because every day should end with the people i love.
and then i go to bed.

this is a normal day i feel.  and to me it is perfect.  because i have never had these things.  i have never gotten up on time, i have never been comfortable with the way i look, i have never had a job that fits me, i have never had frequent enough time for my interests, or been able to go home and have the time to do whatever it is that i need to do between work or school and seeing people.

and all i want is a normal day.

and a voice in my head says "sara, nobody has days or lives exactly how they want them."

this is true.  which is why this is my perfect day.  perfection is impossible.
i in now way consider a day like this possible.

better than xanax Part II

so my last couple of posts have been kind of angsty

for that, i don't apologize.  this blog is and always will be my self expression, and i only ever write blogs when i actually feel like i have something to say.

even if its only something like "i like cupcakes, they rock my socks."  i write that because at the time i am feeling it so strongly that i need to take that message, put it into a little cyber capsule, and jettison it into oblivion for whomever to find and read and take as they will.

that being said, part of the reason they've been angsty is because well, i've been feeling angsty.

especially at night, which is when i blog.

but i've not really been feeling angsty.  i've been feeling, sad.  there i said it.

you know how hard it is for me to admit that i'm sad?
its weird.  i'll admit i'm angry or frustrated or happy or just about any other emotion before i'll admit that i'm sad.

or embarrassed, for some reason i don't like admitting when i'm embarrassed.  it makes it worse or something.

anywho.

this whole sadness not admitting thing is probably a pride issue.  all issues turn out to be pride issues in the end.  its kind of connected to this underlying feeling i have that i have to act as if everything is okay all the time otherwise people will get upset with me, because me admitting that i'm troubled is actually on some level making trouble.

so there, i admitted it.  i can't admit that i'm sad.  but now i'm admitting it.  i'm sad.

except...

okay so basically this is how my life has been going down.  i wake up in the morning, late.

so already in my day i am a failure.  this is every day mind you.  i have no idea why on earth i can't wake up on time but golly gee have i not been working on it MY ENTIRE LIFE and jimminy willickers has it gotten WORSE WITH AGE!!

so invariably, my first action of every day is a screw up.

i don't even get a chance to do something right before i do something wrong.

after i get up late i will probably shower although that depends on how late i got up, get dressed into my work uniform and go to work.  then i will work super hard at a job that i feel terrible at if for no other reason then i can't seem to move fast enough.  i will get frequent annoyed and impatient looks from my supervisors, i will over compensate by doing an obscenely detailed job sweeping, then right when i think i'm getting the hang of things accidentally close the cash drawer before giving a customer their change, forcing me to call over a manager to open the drawer for me so i can retrieve it.

i will leave work after getting somewhere between three to five hours. which every paycheck adds to just under how much i need to do one thing on the list of many things i need the money for.  i will put in my lipring to feel like myself again, and depending on the day go to some kind of social activity with my friends hoping that i don't smell like deep fried fish planks.

then i will come home, i may or may not make myself food, watch television for an extended period of time and then get online to check facebook and tumblr and pinterest and any other social networking site i can think of.  it's about this time that my entire day settles over my head and i'll see something online that strikes a chord with me and i'll get really emotional and then i'll blog.

i'll remind and berate myself about how i'm not doing anything in my life that makes life worth living.  i'm not really serving anyone, i'm not creating anything, i'm not going anywhere, i'm not using my education.

then i will go to bed, knowing that the next day is going to be exactly like that day was.

believe me, i have a point to all of this.

so when it comes to where i am with God right now i'm all like "where do you want me to go?"  and God is all like "well, you're here right now."  and i'm like "well i'm not asking about right now, God.  i'm asking about what i am to be doing..."

i've been trying to be more intentional in my walk, specifically with prayer.  there have just been so many things circling my life that need prayer lately. people and circumstances.  and i know i need to pray more, not just my regular impulse prayers like "Dear God thankyou for not letting that bus hit me."  but more like actual "hey, God.  what's up?  so this is happening to me today, and by the way this is whats happening to all of my friends."

i believe in the power of prayer.  so why don't i use it?

over the summer i had another job that was giving me similar anxieties and it was awful, and then i chose to do this prayer routine with one of the youth group chicks and was amazed to discover that not only were my days going better but i was actually happy.

so today as i was driving home and thinking overwhelming thoughts about student loans and insufficiencies in my work and my self it occurred to me like a pudgy girl on the couch who said she'd run more (cause i'm that girl too) that i was by myself and maybe instead of jamming to ke$ha i should be talking to God.

"Hey...Father...um...I suppose you already know this but...i'm sad..."

sidenote:  you know i've been thinking about the word "sad" and wondering if there is a better more fitting synonym to use.  after all i see meme after meme on the internet making fun of people's limited vocabularies.  but the truth is i feel there is no better word that could quite describe it.

so i get home and i get online and i start checking things and i start watching youtube videos and i do laundry and i work on something for the dinner party i'm going to tomorrow and realize something.

i'm not thinking about all the crap in my life.  i'm thinking about what i'm doing.  thats it.

and i'm once again reminded about how just talking to God makes things better even though nothing in my life has changed...yet...i think i have some more praying to do.

feminazi: because wanting your gender to be treated like a human being, is just like invading poland

ugh.

here is what my blog would say if it were just a facebook post.

i feel that my only inhibition, to being uninhibited, is that i'm not pretty enough.


now for the regularly scheduled angry feminist blog.

its no secret that the world/media/society has a set of standards for all people, but more so for women that define beauty, narrowing its parameters so that it is next to unattainable.

(if you have any arguments about the "more so for women" caveat then i invite you to look at any tv sitcom and count the number of overweight men with attractive wives, verses the amount of overweight women with attractive husbands.)

the worst part about it i'm realizing is that besides the "you must look a certain way to be considered attractive and be taken seriously"  message that is being sent out is the additional "you can only do the things you want to do in life if you look the way we say you should."

i was watching a CW show the other day that featured three female lawyers.  not a single one of them was actually dressed professionally as would be expected in a work place. (and these women supposedly worked for the DA)  instead they were all wearing flowy scarves and blouses that looked more like a fashion magazine.  in addition to this, all of them were about 5'9" with a slim body build, probably about 110 pounds each. they were habeus corpus barbies.

i've heard many men say that they don't like it when women spend so much time on their appearance, and that they want girls to just "be themselves."

but i truly believe that they do not even realize what that would look like.  they imagine the same clean and made up girls, but in sweatpants.

i was once with a group of my guy friends, and we met a girl who didn't shave her legs.  its okay if those guys didn't find that attractive.  we all have tastes and preferences.  but they continued to make fun of her in conversations for nearly a year afterward, only ceasing when another girlfriend and i yelled at them for it.  but they didn't stop because they realized how offensive it was, they stopped because we yelled at them.

whenever i see a woman express herself completely, i try to imagine myself in her place, and realize that the main thing stopping me is that i don't fit that magazine pretty.  because when i was made fun of in school, it was often for doing normal things that every other girl did.  the only reason why i was made fun of for it and not other girls was because i wasn't as pretty as those other girls.

this isn't a cry for attention, i don't desire to hear assuring remarks about my appearance.  i just want women to be respected enough that they are allowed to be who they are and look how they look whether or not who they are and how they look fit together according to the rest of the world standards.

it hurts less to sleep than it does to dream

beautiful things make me sad anymore.

they make me feel like i'm missing something in my life.  something big and important.  i'm not really creating anymore.

creating is really important for humans.  especially creating beautiful things, because we are what we create.  if i ask myself if i'm beautiful i have to be honest and say...i have had my moments.  but not lately.

i think it is both man's blessing and his curse that we should not recognize our own moments of beauty until years later, and possibly  never.  so being beautiful is known to be an attainable goal, but one that we must constantly be striving for. 

i'm inpatient.

sometimes i really hate that i need people, that i get my energy from people, because i often feel like i need to have just a string of a few days all to myself, a string of a few weeks really, to fix myself.  and then when i've recovered i can re-enter society as the person that i'm supposed to be.  

you know how when you're running late it can start with something really small that throws your whole day off?  like you hit the snooze button one time too many or your pet makes a mess that needs immediate attention or you get stuck behind a train.  it only really takes a few minutes of your time but it takes you hours to get back on schedule.  i kind of feel that way about my whole life.  like one day in grade school i overslept and now i can't get back on track. 

but i'm getting derailed now actually.

i have this sinking feeling that my entire life i'm going to be doing everything to actually create something i'm proud of and for the rest of my life beautiful things will be making me sad.

i think that the easy assumption is that my job in fast food and having nothing in the foreseeable future but debt repayment is killing my soul.

of course i could just be a flawed human being.