B.S. Subtitles April 13, 2013Posted by sarahsfate in Thoughts on People, Writing.
Tags: Experiencing Life, Life, Living, Love, people, Relationships, society, Thoughts on Life, writing
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Today I watched a movie called “Dakota Skye”. The main character is a girl named Dakota Skye who can tell when people are lying to her. She refers to it as her superpower although I think, and she says frequently throughout the movie, it’s more of a curse. I’m not sure I would truly want to know when someone lied to me. Especially in a world when the truth is so hard to tell.
Dakota is obviously surrounded by people who lie to her, including her boyfriend of 9-months who tells her he loves her while they are having sex and she sees this little subtitle at the bottom of the tv screen that says he means he loves sex. Her boyfriend’s good friend from back in the day shows up one day for a visit of a few weeks. He and Dakota end up spending a lot of time together, due to her boyfriend’s busy schedule with his band and her lack of a car. This friend, when he first turns up in the movie…I thought, no this can’t be the guy they’re talking about in the movie info on Netflix. He’s so not like Dakota’s boyfriend and really not like her either (that I could tell at that point). Plus, he’s kinda goofy looking, disarming really.
But as it turns out, this friend, Jonas, never lies to her. Which perturbs her. Confounding, really, this anomaly of virtue. But he’s insightful and considerate…and honest. I found myself actually liking him. No–not just liking him, wishing for a Jonas of my own.
At one point in the movie she thinks he actually lied to her but somehow the lie flew under her superpower radar, leading her to believe she can’t tell when he’s lying. So when he tells her he is in love with her she says “but how do I know?” He is naturally confused by her question, her superpower being a secret of epic proportions, and says “because I just said it?”
But really, how do any of us know?
People say “haaaa Sarah you’re so funny!” sure, I think, but…why aren’t you laughing? They say “sure I’d love to pick you up from the airport at 11:30 at night on a Tuesday” but, let’s face it, who really loves that? Obviously not. The lies don’t hurt anyone but in the long run we’re all a bunch of dishonest people who expect dishonesty from other people and therefore have no faith in people. We all become more self-reliant, more self-involved, less socially interactive, less loyal, less governed by an understanding that we are all in this together. Because we isolate ourselves by carving out the b.s….because it’s all b.s.
Technology being what it is…the b.s. is all there is. People put on their Facebook profile they went to college. You think that means a college degree but in reality they dropped out after the third semester. People on eHarmony put on their profile they absolutely adore spending time with their children or dogs…the reality is those comments are what people want to hear. That doesn’t make it true. It just makes someone an idiot for not seeing through it.
And if we do see through it…if each of us sees through all the b.s. with little subtitles at the bottom of the screen–what then, will we have?
Let’s Vacation July 23, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in My Own Personal Trials, PostADay2011, Thoughts on People, Writing.
Tags: Air conditioning, Dream, Experiencing Life, Family, goals, Hot tub, Hotel, Ice cream, Life, Living, Love, people, Personal, Recreation, Relationships, Shopping, Swimming pool, Thoughts on Life, Vacation rental, writing
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I had forgotten how saltwater effects my ears but, for the first time in years, the hearing in my left ear has returned. And so as my children squabble over the television channel, space on the hotel bed, and the hot tub, I can hear every octave of their shrieks and even their mutterings.
It’s currently almost ten o’clock at night and the children are finishing a long day with a dip in the hotel’s indoor pool. Well, two of them are anyway, my fourteen-year old daughter, having espied a good-looking boy with a mohawk in the hot tub, has decided she’d like to swim after all and has gone back to our room to change. After a short period of time she returned clad in her yellow bikini with her hair nicely combed.
My ex and I then began a conversation about the dating ritual and concerns of youngsters. My ex, Ben, referred to the kids (teenagers and all) as “carefree”, to which I replied “who, in that room, is carefree?” My argument being that a 14-year old girl is extremely sensitive to her expression, hair, laughter, outfit, swimming technique — every nuance of behavior matters. That’s not carefree — that’s all care.
And then Ben says how silly that is because guys that age don’t particularly care about any of that. She’s cute and that’s the be-all, end-all. He says the majority of men, as well, are this way. Good to know, I say.
It was nice, though, that we were all completely unconcerned with all nuances of behavior (other than behaving in a socially acceptable manner, that is) at the beach today. I didn’t even notice other women being particularly concerned with their persons. What I noticed, instead, were the families building poorly constructed sandcastles, flying kites shaped as hawks, and wading deep into the intense waves slamming to shore. The temperatures remained in the nineties, a lovely change from the over-100-degrees for three weeks weather back home, and the breeze remained constant.
My son, upon his first experience with the ocean, deemed it acceptable entertainment in his 6-year old mind with the exception of all that pesky salt in the water and, therefore, perhaps the hotel pool was better. Kids. My 11-year old daughter has outdone herself in remaining positive and atop our non-schedule. Directly after dinner tonight she, my son, and Ben went outside to be free of the arctic air conditioning system of the hole-in-the-wall we found, and my 14-year old and I sat inside, eating ice cream and discussing the benefits of moving to the coast.
We decided it was difficult to judge the benefits because it’s easy to enjoy a vacation spot when you don’t have to work or go to school because then there’s no stress or responsibility really. But if we moved to the coast, the stress and responsibility would simply follow us to the coast and then…would we still enjoy the coast better than home? It was too difficult to decide so we simply finished our ice cream, pondered the intensity of the waves some more, and then stepped out into the ocean air.
Your Face/My Face July 6, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in My Own Personal Trials, PostADay2011, Thoughts on People.
Tags: appearance, Child, Life, personality, Recreation, Roswell, self-esteem, Swimming pool, Swimsuit, Thoughts on Life, thoughts on people, Water, Water Parks, Waterpark
Several days ago I took my children to the local water park. It was a hot day filled with an over-abundance of roiling heat, noisy children, and a crush of bodies. The water park provides a lap pool, which I utilize, and a pool for small children — both indoors. Outside there is a lengthy lazy river pool, a children’s water playground, and four ridiculously tall, curving slides. After my children abandoned me to one of the aforementioned delights, I sat on my towel and grabbed my latest read: Discovering Roswell. I slipped my finger between the pages held by my bookmark and took one last glance around the water park, searching for the familiar blonde heads of my children. I didn’t see them but wasn’t alarmed and, instead, my attention was diverted by something else.
Anyone who has ever gone to a water park, local swimming pool, the lake, or the beach, has seen women aplenty running amok in their swim suits. Because stores vie for the most sales during the swim suit season there are plenty of colors, designs, and patterns. Such variation. But, again, this is not what truly caught my attention. I noticed the swim suits, sure, but what I really took note of was the behavior exhibited by these women.
For instance the smiling brunette with the long legs and bright red bikini providing standard coverage. Her legs dredged through the calf-high kiddy playground as she moved from one side to the next where she met some alarmingly attractive man. The man isn’t the point. Or maybe he is. Amid the joyful screaming of the children, the multitude of water-spraying canons, the heat, the crush of bodies — the brunette moved confidently. Her arms swung at her sides as though forgotten and they certainly weren’t used to cover this spot or that spot — some seemingly flawed portion of her body only she could see. (as is the way). She was confident.
Then there was the tiny, big-breasted blonde lying in the shallow side of the kiddie playground with her arms stretched behind her to prop her body forward as she sunbathed. This one wore practically nothing but the practically-nothing was white and cute. She knew it. It’s possible no one paid her any attention whatsoever but judging by the way she held her body — stiffly with unnatural angles caused by her legs and head (meant to show to the best advantage) — she thought everyone was watching her.
Someone was watching her. An overweight woman with long red hair curled up into a bun on the very top of her head. The red-haired woman chose not to wear sunglasses that day and her squint only emphasized the other creases in her face. The bathing suit she chose was probably suitable, probably respectable, but it didn’t look right on her at all. The plain brown one piece was covered with baggy beige shorts, meant to provide additional covering where the woman deemed necessary. She glanced at the woman in white and then pretended not to glance down at herself before moving away to some shady spot where her towel waited for her.
There were more of them but instead of my minute inspection of each and every one I began to sort of…catalog them. The ones who wore skirts with their suits. The ones who wore one-pieces versus two-pieces. The ones whose arms behaved like darting shields to cover bits of their bodies as they walked. The ones who walked as though they wore a business suit and had no fear.
And then I thought. How different would we be, self-consciously, if everyone looked exactly the same? If each of the women in that water park had the exact same face and the only real concern we had for whether anyone liked us or not, was related only to our personality? You would know if you were liked, or loved even, just for being you. And only for that reason. There’s a kind of security in such an idea. I appreciate individuality and uniqueness in people and especially in myself. But I wonder how different we would be, how different our relationships would be, if the only thing to be seen was what you couldn’t see?
When I Was a Young Warthog May 31, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in My Own Personal Trials, PostADay2011, Thoughts on People.
Tags: Family, kids, Life, people, plans, stress, teenager, Thoughts on Life, working
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Everyone says growing up is hard to do. What they don’t tell you is that you will never stop growing up. As a child I was teased mercilessly for the size of my eyes and the length of my toes. That was over 20-years ago and I still recall how devastating that was. Throughout junior high and high school I was beset with such rebellion against my fellow classmates that I absolutely refused to see myself as anything other than beautiful and strong. My attitude about my capabilities and general awesomeness clung to me until my mid-twenties when, when no longer confronted with hateful kids, fled. I was on my own.
I don’t mean I was on my own because I moved out of my parent’s home, had a job, and was raising a family ‘on my own’ — I mean my self-image, my behaviors, my auto-self-defense mechanisms were all on me. If I felt ugly, I was to blame. If I felt I failed on something, I had only myself to blame. I could no longer look at myself in the mirror and defiantly claim to be better than ‘so and so’ said I was (regardless of its truth)…because, well…because it was no longer necessary to do so.
So instead of telling myself I was good enough, I went about turning my life into what I really wanted it to be…something that wasn’t some obscure reflection of what was popular or anti-popular (as would be more the case with me). Over the years I learned that what I liked was organization and cleanliness…structure. Sure there was time for random activities…sometimes. And everything would be great in my life and I would be happy, as long as that image of my life remained sturdy in my mind.
Today, sometimes it seems life is going just as I mean it to. It’s not some effortless thing when you work hard to make things go the way you mean it to. The house is clean and organized, dinners turn out well, the kids do exceptionally in school, work is smooth. These are the moments in which you can breathe…really breathe. You may even stop and smell the roses. I have these “perfect moments” infrequently, which is not to say few and far between…I actually have them once or twice a week. My problem is I want that feeling just about every day, which is silly. I know. But when everything is humming along its never just a small thing to slam into you, uprooting your level-footing and tossing all deck hands off the side of the ship — it is always something big. Always.
And this is what I find bothersome. It’s like relationships in which you feel everything is going along all nice and dandy when one day your partner goes off on you. WHAM! You never see it coming and it throws you off. The bigger the problem, the harder it is to regain your footing and move forward. I hate those moments. I hate reeling. These moments remind me of being a teenager staring at my hated visage in the too-well-lit bathroom mirror. I feel awkward. Unacceptable. Obviously, I prefer sure-footed-ness.
When I wore the clothes of a younger woman I always thought life would get simpler and smoother the older I became. It’s like that assumption that pimples go away once you turn 20 and are safely away from being a ‘teen’. Pimples don’t go away and life doesn’t get simpler. What does happen is you gain insight and maturity — things that will enable you to deal with the crap that comes your way. It doesn’t get easier. You get stronger.
Just Like Life May 28, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in Everyone's A Critic, My Own Personal Trials, PostADay2011, Thoughts on People.
Tags: Arts, attraction, Cynicism, Family, finding love, Life, Love, Relationships, Romance, romantic, Sibling, Thoughts on Life, unrequited love
I have just finished watching a film called “I Capture the Castle” starring various actors I know of and some I do not. The movie was a bit of a slow story about finding love, turning away from love, and all the angst, desire, and heartbreak made capable by love. Has there ever existed love that did not also bring heartache? Love loves misery. Or it fights it. Or it finds it. In a world of 7-billion people and days and weeks filled with dozens of acquaintances, friends, and strangers…how do we find love? In a single week I may, may, see one man whom I find attractive enough for a second glance and that does not mean that I am hung up on looks…when I say attractive, I mean he is attractive to me. I do not look for the tall, dark, and handsome man…I look for one with an ease in his step, a careless smile, a spark of intelligence and wit in his eye. I notice his lips, the fall of his hair, and the way he holds his arms at his side as he walks. And sometimes…sometimes I see a man who catches my eye.
But I do not approach. Mostly, because I am at an age and stage in my life where the sheer idea of dating exhausts me. The effort that goes into the meeting, the flirting, the discovery of his past, the learning of his life, the hectic scheduling between work and children and school — why would I? When it does not work out in the end. I would have spent weeks, perhaps months, getting to know someone. I will end up either caring for him when he cares not at all for me, or I will come to dislike him greatly. I have been told I am too young to be so cynical about love and…the truth is…I am not cynical about love. I believe, wholeheartedly, that people find someone who will stand beside them in life, holding their hand, holding them up, and never ever letting them fall on their face unless they themselves are also on the ground and incapable of holding one up. I believe he makes her laugh with his charming manners and makes her meals of such exquisiteness for only one purpose: to see the light in her eyes. This man would not hurt his love.
No. I am not cynical about love. I am cynical about loyalty. The man I’ve mentioned is difficult to come by, the diamond in the rough, and just shy of impossible to find. At my age. At any age.
In the movie, there are two sisters and two brothers who find themselves at a chance meeting and fall for each other. Who falls for whom? Well, you might ask and I spent most of the movie wondering myself. One sister was proposed to by a brother very much in love with her, though it turned out that (even though she accepted his proposal) she was in love with his brother. And the other sister was in love with the brother who proposed. This is a story built on truth and, in fact, could very well be based on a true story. In the end the two that were madly in love with each other married and went away, leaving two very unhappy and lonely people to go their separate ways.
There was an ending to the movie…but not a happy one. Just like life.
My Spectre Around Me… May 21, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in Poems, PostADay2011, Thoughts on People, Writing.
Tags: Arts, Experiencing Life, failed love, Life, Love, Poetry, Relationships, Romance, unrequited love, William Blake
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***William Blake (1757-1827) uses the word ‘spectre’ to refer to his constant, redundant inability to embrace love…or the object of his affections. When he vows to ‘turn from female love’ he is not suggesting becoming homosexual or ascetic, but to give up the act of embracing love. He wants to be happy and decides that the constant attempt to embrace love is making him unhappy, so to break himself from the cycle of inability, he is giving up the pursuit.***
My Spectre Around Me Night and Day – William Blake
My spectre around me night and day
like a wild beast guards my way
my emanation far within
weeps incessantly for my sin
A fathomless and boundless deep
there we wander, there we weep
on the hungry craving wind
my spectre follows thee behind
He scents thy footsteps in the snow
wheresoever thou dost go
thro the wintry hail and rain
when wilt thou return again?
Dost thou not in pride and scorn
fill with tempests all my morn
and with jealousies and fears
fill my pleasant nights with tears
Seven of my sweet loves thy knife
has bereaved of their life
their marble tombs I built with tears
and with cold and shuddering fears
Seven more loves weep night and day
round the tombs where my loves lay
and seven more loves attend each night
around my couch with torches bright
And seven more loves in my bed
crown with wine my mournful head
pitying and forgiving all
thy transgressions great and small
When wilt thou return and view
my loves and them to life renew?
When wilt thou return and live
when wilt thou pity as I forgive?
Never, Never I return
still for victory I burn
living thee alone I’ll have
and when dead I’ll be thy grave
Thro the heaven and earth and hell
thou shalt never never quell
I will fly and thou pursue
night and morn the flight renew
Till I turn from female love
and root up the infernal grove
I shall never worthy be
to step into Eternity
And to end thy cruel mocks
annihilate thee on the rocks
and another form create
to be subservient to my fte
Let us agree to give up love
and root up the infernal grove
then shall we return and see
the worlds of happy eternity
and throughout all Eternity
I forgive you, you forgive me
as our dear redeemer said
this is the wine, and this is the bread.
How Great Change Can Be May 20, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in My Own Personal Trials, PostADay2011, Thoughts on People.
Tags: Accepting Change, Change management, Experiencing Life, friends, Life, Living, Management, people, Ripple in the Pond, society, Thoughts on Life, Who Moved My Cheese?
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No one likes change. They want to change one thing — just one — but a great many other things change as well. The pebble in the pond theory. The idea (or dream) of winning the lottery, for instance, sounds great. Being able to fearlessly pay your bills is awesome. But, what about the ripples? Those little waves being users, disasters, strangely predictable bad luck, etc.
This is one area where my over-analysis really pays off. Knowing what to expect, for the most part, and considering the possibilities, makes change a little more palatable. Having change foisted on you is, yes, a tad different…or, the same, because it presents the unknown and unexpected.
I’ve had conversations with people who landed a great job they applied for — a huge pay increase, benefits, insurance, family-friendly — and they resign from their current job, in favor of the new one. Seems the obvious choice. Within weeks the eureka from landing such awesomeness turns into a daily complaint about the commute. Pause. Tilt head to side in imitation of confused dog. You didn’t know how far a drive it was when you applied?
Every action has a consequence…causes a ripple. In fact, even inaction has a consequence. Every step, every word, every action has an effect. Your actions force change on dozens of others every day. Change of thought. Change of direction. So it makes sense that occasionally you will be effected by someone else. It simply is. Life is.
Change isn’t necessarily a bad thing and doesn’t deserve its stigma.
During my 10-year stint at a company, I was forced to read “Who Moved my Cheese?”, which actually wasn’t too bad of a read but the reason for why I “needed” to read it wasn’t the same as what I got out of it. The purpose I deduced was that I should make change to improve myself or my situation. I was the mouse who went looking for cheese because I was hungry — not the mouse who had to be brow-beaten and then abandoned because he would not change.
The whole point behind instruction to read it was because we were being taken over by a stifling new management. So, because I’m the first mouse, I left the company. 🙂 And met some great people I would otherwise not have met.
See how great change can be?