This one....

Is for me.  I doubt anyone reads this blog anyone, anyhow, there are three others of mine to follow, and this one as been neglected since October.  Time is swinging about again, and in four short months I will have to look back on the year as I fly to the states, pondering over if I actually did anything that matters in the long run.  Sure, I have taught people about verbs and adverbs, made some friends, even help put on an Easter and a Christmas play, but my heart wants a little more, and I am sure that God does too.

I want to be pretty.  There, I typed it.  I know that it is shallow, and that perhaps if I loved God more, I wouldn't feel it.  There it is though, the part of me that wants to put on a cute outfit and makeup, and feel a little more daring because of three layers of mascara.  People blame things on their dad, I know I did for years.  Still do a bit, but now I'm seeing that a lot of it is what he made out of life when it threw him a round of curve balls...What would I have done?  Would I known what to do, how to be a father when I barely had one of my own?  Most likely not, I'd like to paint a watercolor of what should have been, but I'm 25 now, time to stop rewriting the past in my head.

I want to be married.  I stare at couple with their children as they love each other and they love God.  I want that.  I want to wake up with a person who shares my purpose, who I can cook for, tease mercilessly, fight with passionately because we care and love more each time the sun rises.  I don't even have an inkling of how that can happen.  I don't even know people who are headed in the same direction that I am, in part due to the fact that my path in life resembles the rain as it flows down the window, changing direction as the gale blows.  My heart is set on God and I know passions that he has put in my life...how its going to all play out?  Dunno, I don't want it all planned out, I like uncertainty in some measure, the whisper of things to come.

Out I go...

In moments like these...

I feel like I need to go crazy. Not sure how, but a little bit of me needs to explode. I want to meet new people, dye my hair, travel, decorate, learn how to do things, speak languages, feel alive. I am here in Iraq for a year, so I have the traveling in. Hopefully I will get a tutor in the next couple of weeks, actually learn a second language. There is so much instability though, such a new way of doing things, I feel as though I am just dipping my toes in, I want to jump in! It was a reassuring thought yesterday that my dignity does not matter. What matters is why I am here, what I do with the time that I am given. Responsibility, but I want to hold onto the sense of adventure. You would think the sense of adventure would just present itself, but it can get swallowed. The wonder of the world is all around, and yet I can get distracted by making my bed.

I feel as though I may become part of the percentile of those who are unwed due to craziness. I am not sure what that percentage is. But the likelihood of that is high. Unless I find a crazy guy who wants to run around the world and never stop. It's a constructive version of duck duck goose that spans continents.

Contemplation beside a Peaut Butter Jar...

I think people find caring about things exhausting, and therefore, instead of just being a little pickier, or coming to the fact that their time and life really are not their own so stop whining...they just stop caring at all. Peanut butter is a wonderful creation, but somehow I don't like when it's put into cookies. My 10K is coming in at an alarming rate, hence this being a shortened post so I can head out at 4:45 to whip my butt into shape at the gym. Literally. Wearing tights at the Watchmen movie premiere made me a little more aware of the need for this. Tomorrow is the first volunteer day that I am leading to the Long Beach Rescue Mission, and I am hoping that at least the minimum number of people required to run the kitchen show up. You know, its hard to pass on ideas and wrap people up in them so they want to follow. I need to work on my charisma, or maybe just my marketing strategy. I've read that passage about the first church, how they did not consider their possessions their own, and I wish that some church, somewhere, would make this a reality again. Without being a cult of course. You know, this may be slightly out there, but I think the church could do with a little cult-ish ness to it. Not in the "drink your cool-aid" type of way, but in the devotion, minus the often mindless obedience present in random cults.... But seriously folks, when you drag yourself to church, run out asap, and don't know your neighbors, the people sitting next to you in the pews (or fluffy chairs - the real reason I picked my church) or maybe even your own family members...what's the deal? Now, I know that I am picky about friends, and extremely picky about close friends, but I think that relationships in general have gone by the wayside in our pursuit of productivity, even sometimes in the church. I know I am at fault of running around like a headless chicken (lean white meat all around), but its something that has been consistently changing. Yes, that is right, the transformation into a watchless (and yet still decently punctual) hippie is underway. Add in my longer hair, shoelessness, and dancing, pretty soon tye dye clouds are going to be seen overhead. Well...to an extent, still have my violent streak that enjoys a good tackle during ultimate...

I have a meeting next week about volunteer ops at the Long Beach Rescue Mission. Just another step outside of my comfort zone as I have to plan activities, recruit people, and yes, even talk to scary older men.

Time for running, swimming and the odd baking for 2o min in the sauna. Detoxification, woot.

These Feet Were Made for Walking...

SETTING: The 266 headed from the Green Line to Lakewood. It is 8:00pm, dark has fallen, and only the shady or the lovers are out on the street, waiting for the bus to take them to darker alleys or home, some in the same place. The one character that stands out is a contented looking hippy-ish girl in her mid 20’s, who sits in the back chatting happily on her cell phone while peeking out occasionally to her left, searching for her stop as she occasionally ruffles through her purse, making sure she has kept track of all her belongings on the days’ trip. After hanging up, she begins to look anxious as the town slips away and the bus heads out onto the freeways.

SARAH (Internal Thought) –
“We must have passed it…it doesn’t take this long to get to Lakewood…”
“Maybe the bus takes a different route at night?”
“Maybe I could ask someone…”
“Everyone looks scary.”
*Checks her GPS, which she happens to be carrying with her.
“How did I get to be 13 miles away from Lakewood?!”
“I could just get off and walk, as soon as I see someplace not so shady to get off “

After seeing a Mobil station, which happens to be the most non-threatening building in site, she runs off the bus and crosses over, hurrying to the welcoming Metro sign by the side of the street. After sitting for about 20 minutes, listening to music, she beings to look nervous once again, and asks the attendant, a primarily Spanish woman, who looks to be in her early 40’s.

SARAH-
* While buying an intriguing looking can of juice, which has an amiable parrot on it, promising health and tastiness, asks:
“Do you know when the next bus is coming?”

ATTENDANT:
*Looking with a certain amount of compassion on the obviously lost child standing in front on her.
“It come every hour…every hour”.
*Appears to be akin to a medic telling a dying patient that everything will be ok, just to lay still.
Sarah looks somewhat placated, heads outside, downs the juice, and proceeds to sit by the edge of the road for another half hour, finally pulling out her cell phone to wake up her poor sister in NY to look up the Metro Schedule:

LAURA:
“Whats up?”

SARAH:
“I know its late, but I am STRANDED, and I need you to look up the Metro schedule”

LAURA:
“They don’t have those.”
SARAH:
“They don’t?”

*Moment of Silence, heavy with tiredness on the East coast end, laden with growing anxiety on the West.

LAURA:
“I’ll look it up.”

More moments pass as Laura picks away on her keyboard, and Sarah looks fearfully at her dying cell phone battery. After about ten minutes, it has come to be absolute knowledge that the last bus ran about the same time as Sarah decided to get off the previous bus. Sarah considers hitch hiking, but also considers how much she wants to live to 25.


LAURA:
“Good luck”

SARAH, with a sigh of resignation to death:
“Thanks, goodnight”.

Sarah pulls out her cell phone again, deciding between calling her recent acquaintance Karry, who had given her rides before, the poor family who had been carting her around all week to work, or to call her faithful roommate Becca, She chose the last, in hopes that maybe coffee and breakfast in bed would help repay a wanna be taxi call to the middle of nowhere.

Answering machine.

Visions of walking down the highway like an ax-murderer fill Sarah’s head.

Cut to flashbacks of Sarah’s childhood, and every wilderness survival class she ever took.

Just kidding, she never took wilderness survival.

The phone rings, showing it to be Becca, who is slowly getting used to her roommates escapades.

BECCA:
“Hey darling! I just got your message, what is up?!” Where are you??”

Sarah reads off the address on the side of the building, showing her to be placed squarely in El Monte, a town Becca has never heard of, and is proved later to be of exceedingly shady reputation.

Sarah buys yet more juice.

After using the now dying GPS to get directions, Sarah hangs up and resigns herself to sit outside of the now closed Mobil Station. Time: Approx 10:00pm.

GPS dies.

Out of nowhere, a man of perhaps Spanish origin pulls up, and appraises the situation. We will call him Juan to protect the innocent.

JUAN:
“Is everything alright?”
SARAH:
“Yeah, I just missed the last bus, I just moved here and am just figuring stuff out”.
JUAN:
“Do you need a ride?”
SARAH:
“Are you going to Lakewood?”
JUAN:
“Lakewood?”
SARAH (while pointing vaguely down the road”)
“Yeah”
JUAN:
“I think I can look it up on the map and take you there”

Sarah is getting a bit nervous as reason kicks in, and she calls Becca, on her seriously dying phone.

SARAH:
“Uhh, this guy drove up, and says that he can give me a ride home…I could do that…”
BECCA (voice filled with horror)
“I’m only about 2 miles away, don’t go with him!”
SARAH (to Juan):
“My roommate is going to be here in a couple of minutes, but thank you, you’re very nice to offer”
JUAN:
“Oh, alright, that is ok. Are you single or married?”
SARAH (with a gulp):
“Single, but not looking”
JUAN (whose face is not quite as hopeful but still determined):
“I am single too, I was married, but I am divorced now, maybe we can go out to dinner sometime?”
SARAH:
“I’m sorry, I am really not looking”
JUAN:
“Oh no, just for fun, just for fun!”
* The third pause of the night, as Sarah is wondering who is older, her father or this man.
“Just for dinner, a meal?”
Pulls out his cell phone, and shows Sarah a picture of his daughter as she slowly edges away and looks around for the now life-saving white car to take her away.
SARAH:
“Oh, she is cute, how old is she now?”
JUAN:
“Fourteen”.
SARAH:
Well, I am going to go wait by the road, my roommate should be here any moment”.
JUAN (while pulling a card out of his pocket and gesturing to it repeatedly):
“Oh ok, well, here is my card.”
“I do lawn services.”
“That is my cell phone number”.
SARAH:
“Thanks!”

Curls up on the Metro bench, considering the times she has considered trying being homeless for a week.

Drinks yet more juice.

Contemplates the wisdom of packing more layers for cold nights.

Wishes she had such wisdom.

After a few more phone calls, which involved trying to figure out where she really was, and why the GPS told them to take a road to Pomona, Becca arrived, and carried away her very thankful roommate, who was so glad to see someone that was not out for a second wife.


Morals of the story:

Don’t drive across the country in three days burn out your car so you have to take the bus.
Unless you know the Metro system, and a lot of time, then by all means save the planet.
If you want a date, ride the Metro, it’s the second week in the row I’ve gotten asked out.

There's no sunshine when she's gone....

But it's sunny where she is. Well, at least where I am. I am currently sitting in a "Downtown" (who knows what direction is up, over, or whatever, I'm in my own version of Ender's Game in LA) "It's a Grind" coffee shop. There is a feeling that I might start to be one of those people who just sit in the corner and observe people, plinking away on their keyboards, only to emerge with a Pulitzer award winning book thirty years down the road. I'd like to shorten my road to fame to about 3 years. Just kidding, I don't think I could handle fame. Well, I'd handle it, but dancing on rooftops and trying to get horrendous fashions into style just to smirk a bit. I have nine minutes until I head back home, its going to be me and Dr. Who for the rest of the night after I make my bed. That is not quite correct, I'm heading over to John and Anne's in a bit, I believe, need to get an oil change before my car comes alive with rage and sits outside my window angrily flashing its brights yelling "Give me one reason to stay here" in a very bluesey tone. I'm trying to stick as many obscure reference in here as possible so I can feel sneaky and cultured at the same time. It can be like a weekly crossword, only it will be my blog, and thus...less correctly spelled. The world would break down if I was in charge of Sunday Morning crosswords. I was hooked on phonics and it betrayed me. Burritoes. There should be an e in it. I'm craving a guitar, a sharpened pencil, and an empty auditorium. Might be teaching gymnastics to young unsuspecting children, totally psyched. Mostly cause then I can get my hand on some uneven parallel bars, at which point the angels will sing and I will realize how out of shape I have become. Although the previous trouncing at Tom's house already gave me that feeling. Maybe I will go running, barefoot, through the streets of LA. I will get exercise and perhaps some news coverage as the resident lunatic. "It's a Grind" has better chai than Starbucks. There, I said it. I am officialy a traitor and will have to be marched through town with a backwards apron and a white coned hate with latin words scrawled on it. My mind has awesome pictures in it right now. I'ts time to go home to the roommate, scribble some more in the journal (I love how the word journal made it ok for "grownups" to keep a diary). I am suprizingly peaceful at the moment, I think all the looking for jobs in the non-profit sector made me feel all lovey and do-goody. Minus the evil glint in my eye, as I think about ice cream in the freezer and "Exterminate" rings through the night....

And the Minutes from Today's Travel Are as Follows....

8:00 am – Still in bed
8:30 am – No signs of movement
9:00 am – Up, showered, pillaged continental breakfast, was subjected to horrible documentary about 8000 calorie triple decker burger as we left the building. The weather outside is amazing!
10:00 am – decided to make music video with clips from our travel. Still in the flat lands but the speed limit is 70!
11:00 – Speed limit is 75!
12:00 – Wandering through Nebraska.
12:30 – Stopped at McDonalds, Laura consumed two double cheeseburgers and a 16 oz. energy drink while Sarah combated a low fat grilled chicken snack sandwich with a vanilla late avec whipped cream. McDonalds is apparently joining the coffee craze.
1:00 – Back on the road, mellow music in our ears, time to drive and re-do my resume into a riveting ensemble that will not so subtly encourage potential employers to snatch me up like the last cheese puff at a church pot luck.
2:00 – Sarah discovers that New Mexico was a state.
3:00 – 5:00 Driving, nothing to report.
5:00 – Really need gas but the road twists sneakily away from only gas station that is near us.
5:30 – Buy gas from shady station that also sells knives.
6:00-10:00 – Drive through Rockies, supposedly. We never actually see them since it is already dark out, and therefore doubt their existence.
10:30 – Rent room in shady motel and plot out early escape for the next morning.
11:00 - Sleep

Iowa...

the other flat state.

The picture to your left is actually a nuclear power plant we passed in Ohio. Laura somehow knew it was nuclear because of the smoke, and I was arguing that it could just be a factory. She won. So far most of the United States has proved to be pretty flat, which while coaxing me towards falling asleep, proves to be marvelous for the gas usage.





The picture to your right is me consuming the first Steak N Shake milkshake I have ever eaten. Their current promotion is "Four Meals for Under $4". Marvelous.


I have to admit that it still has not totally sunken in that I am moving. You may ask "Aren't you 1000 miles from home?" Yes. Still has not hit me. The fact that I am escaping the snow has though. Well, I do miss my roommates as well. I still think of there as home, and I am wondering how long it will take for that to transfer. Alright, this is not a very long, nor exciting blog, but I am tired. More random thoughts to come tomorrow, I'm going to try to keep a log of our travels, somewhat like court minutes, but without the gavel smashing.

Over and Out - Sarah