The Way I Are

It feels like it's been forever since I've been on here! I'd like to report back with news of a fancy-free and funtastic vacation or other odd and strangely hilarious happenings, but alas, I'm tapped.

Since most of my recent posts seem to have revolved around healthy-crunchy gobbledegook, all in the vain attempt to make my skin a masterful work of art and not the textured red stucco it has been as of late, I feel the need to update you on my diet's progress.

There hasn't been any.

That's it in a nutshell. My face is still a little too vibrant and bumpalicious for my taste, and there isn't really any end in sight.

In fact, from what I can gather, since this is most likely hormonal acne (as it's root was coming off the birth control pill), I pretty much have the option of waiting it out. Diet isn't going to be much of a help, nor is slathering my face in chemicals (which I refuse to do anyway), as it's all internal, baby.

I will say my body overall has truly enjoyed this diet. I feel more energetic, sharper, just...better. Now when I indulge in something on my "avoid" list I can feel it right after. I feel super full and bloated (such an unfortunate 'b' word). Sometimes I feel sluggish the next day, and a bit cloudy in my cranial zone. So I do think what I'm doing is generally beneficial, but it can be hard to stick to my veggie guns when presented with juicy steak, wrapped in bacon, and covered in some sort of melty-cheesy goodness. It's disheartening is all. While this has never been about deprivation (that ish is crazy, y'all), and I've definitely eaten that which I mostly try to avoid, this realization kind of makes me want to gorge on gluten filled bread, sugar stuffed cookies and cakes and all manner of pies, make spaghetti and drink that damn tomato sauce, because, clearly, it won't make a lick of difference for my face.

But...I won't. My body feels good, better than it ever has, and so I'm willing to stick it out for my overall well being (minus the occasional loaf of Italian bread). (and bottle of wine). I have come to some conclusions though:

1. While bad hair days may be hidden with updo's and hats, bad face days are open for anyone to see.
2. Wearing a bag over one's head is not really an option, despite the common turn of phrase.
3. In times of need, one may repeat in one's head ad infinitum, "I am Angelina Jolie. I AM ANGELINA JOLIE," and one will feel mildly more confident in oneself. This is good.
4. To NEVER go on that horrible little devil pill, ever again. I mean it. If I could go back in time I would, and I'd slap my barely blemished face silly for even considering it. Then I'd slap my doctor's face for not painting a full and complete picture for my impressionable, "dr.'s-can-do-no-wrong," self. And then I'd eat a lot of chocolate, because, hey, why not?

For this upcoming weekend though, I'm having a bit of a quandary. As you may or may not be aware, dear reader, it's the Fourth of July this weekend. That's when we Americans pig-out on grilled meats from each and every corner of the animal kingdom, leaving no animal carcass unturned, in celebration of when we emancipated ourselves from British tyranny (which is somewhat sad, considering that if we hadn't, I'd have a spectacularly awesome accent right now). A sort of "Who's the top of the food chain NOW, huh?!" demonstration. At least, I'm pretty sure that's why we do it. I could be wrong.

Cape Cod, raising a fist to England, as if to say, "And don't come back now, y'hear??" Or something.

Anyway! This weekend I will be travelling to a friends house, down the Cape, where many of our other friends will gather for our yearly meat-consuming-demonstration, only this time...I don't really eat meat. It has me feeling a bit un-American on this great holiday of ours. And as most of my friends are unaware of my strange new eating habits, I am less than enthused to enlighten them.

There's already talk of combining our monies so as to afford us the most amount of meat. Alright, so maaaybe other food products were included in that discussion (some of which I should be avoiding too). All of the food mentioned, actually, sounded mouth-wateringly good. I want to say yes. I'm pretty sure everyone else will be saying yes (and we all know the gravitational pull of peer-pressure is greater than that of the sun). But...I feel like a prissy, high-maintenance arse picking and choosing what I'll help pay for. And this wonderful fellow essentially offered to cook most of the food (at least it appeared that way in the email), and if I do pitch in, there I'll be, saying, "Ooh, yeeeeeaah, can we boil another pot of water? I want this pesto but gosh, gee, yeah, I'm not eating gluten, sorrry...but I have this gluten free pasta, so could you move over and I'll just cook it right up? Greeeat, thaaaanks. I'm not in your way am I??" That may have been dramatized a TAD, but I'm going to go ahead and assume you know what I mean.

I don't want to be difficult. Or needy. But, apparently, I am. I am one of those people I never thought I'd be - not that they're bad people. But I am them now. (Which is how I know they're good people. ahem).

Another option? Make all of my own food this weekend. Which is fine - I really don't mind cooking! I like it actually. I just feel like breaking from everyones daily menu will seem like I'm saying, "Your food sucks. I hate it and won't eat it. I am better than your food. Ha ha ha ha!" And...I'm not. I LOVE your food. I would like to make sweet masticating love with your food! I've just made a decision about my eating, and as hard as it has been, I want to try and see it through.

My game plan before had been to go into the weekend, not mention my flexi-vega-tarianism (translation: I eat mostly veggies, many/most of which are raw, with a side of cooked food, and a splash of meat/animal byproducts here and there) unless it came up, and work my way around the food, eating what I could. Now, I think I will be more direct. This lifestyle is a choice I have made, and there is no sense acting like I'm ashamed of it. I'm definitely going to bring some food (I want to contribute!) - probably a bunch of salad stuff, maybe make some quinoa, etc - and then pitch in for some of the other food too. And, when necessary, I'll stick my veggie-lovin' behind in the kitchen and modify the meals for myself as I need to. Even if It is the most potentially obnoxious thing ever.

I know my friends will accept me anyway, no matter how much of a hassle-faced baboon I am, because they're my friends. They wouldn't be if they weren't good people, so I think it's safe to say I'm putting the cart before the horse on this issue, and letting my addled brain get the better of me.

It's going to be a fabulous weekend, even if it is mostly meatless (mostly, because I'm dead set on having a tequila steak fajita. Thank you, Mysterious-Friend, whom I haven't the brain power to concoct a nickname for!). I cannot wait to see all my friends (many of whom I haven't seen since October), and go to the BEACH! Yeah baby! Sand, sun, and fun! Maybe it'll convince my face to lighten up and relax a bit, too.

Here's hoping anyway!

All I can do is "keep calm and carry on," as they say! Or don't say, but almost printed up on posters that one time.

Have a fantastic weekend!!

Crazy Sexy Lifestyle!

Today is Monday. Which makes it on principle a terrible day to stop drinking coffee. The gloomy day, less than 8 hours of sleep, and frigid temperature aren't exactly making it a breeze of a transition, either.

But damnit, I'm trying.

I've been making my way through Kris Carr's, Crazy Sexy Diet, and am loving it quite a lot. I don't fancy the name of the book, though - in part. I'm all for being crazy and sexy! It's just that the word "diet" is synonymous with "weight loss," and that isn't really my goal. It's to be healthier. I find it unfortunate that so many people equate weight with health (though weight can impact health) to the point that everyone's nearly fat phobic. But I digress!

In Carr's book, she talks about caffeine in relation to health so convincingly she's managed to get me to abstain from my regular morning cup o' joe. I will still drink coffee on occasion - I love it so very, very, very much! - but I think taking it out of my daily routine will be beneficial. Well, hopefully. It may be beneficial to my health, though there's little in the book to explain how it may effect the health of those around me.

Just no one give me any sharp objects for the next couple weeks and I think we may all make it through this alive!

I Think Anger Management Might Be The Next Step: Self Important Jackals Shouldn't Be Given A License

Can someone tell me, is there a full moon on the horizon? Because everyone on the road is driving like they're bloody bonkers today.

Furthering my dislike of everyone else allowed a license besides myself: An 18-wheeler was waiting on an off ramp to merge with the traffic I was a part of. The speed limit on said road is 45mph. Obviously I was doing 50. Seriously, I don't know what 100ft looks like because I am terrible at spatial relationships and judgments, but I HAD to be only like 100ft away from this honkin' huge 18-wheeler when he decides to "gun" it and PULL OUT IN FRONT OF ME. If any of you are familiar with 18-wheelers, you will know that 'gunning it' for an 18-wheeler is not dissimilar to a cheetah with it's legs tied together, frozen in a block of ice. I, per usual, was too shocked that anyone could be so idiotic, and fully focused on trying to stop my car before becoming crushed and wedged under this slow and foolish beast, that I completely forgot to honk my horn. For shame! I hate when that happens!

This foolhardy driver then apparently forgets he has brakes and that there are laws about speed limits, because the limit immediately drops to 35mph and he HAS to be doing 50, as I'm zipping along at 40mph  and he's boogied way way far ahead of me! Guess that cheetah thawed out and chewed through his restraints. It was insane! Often there are cops on that road and I was hoping beyond hope that he would be pulled over. Alas, that didn't happen. I DID write down his license plate #, though, and am considering writing to the truck company about his shitastic driving! I just hate getting people in trouble...but seriously, his driving could end up getting someone with far less superior reaction times hurt.

Then? - oh, you thought this was over? - then we get to a light. The 18-wheeler is still in front of me, and there's another woman behind me. Right before the light is a road to the left. However, it is illegal to make a left hand turn onto that road. There are signs and everything. There's even a little traffic island that you have to maneuver around to make the left. But this woman? She's actually exempt from the laws everyday laymen like ourselves are slave to. That little traffic island? 'm not even near it, the truck is. And this woman is behind me. And we're at a complete stop at a traffic light. SO SHE GETS IN THE OPPOSITE LANE WITH ONCOMING TRAFFIC. She has to drive at least 100ft, and almost collides with a jeep. What the hell people?!

I also wrote down her license plate number. Not that there's much I could do with it, methinks. I can't believe anyone thinks they are that damn above the law, that their time is that important that they'll do something as stupid as that. If you had hit that jeep and and killed that driver, would you still think you and your time were worth more than anyone else's?? Drives me absolutely bonkers. I never feel such blinding rage as when I am driving. I never want to cause others physical harm (I even have trouble watching it in movies I dislike it so much), but the way people drive makes me seriously want to punch them in their faces.

Wake up!! You are not any more important than anyone else on the road. Whatever you have to do today is not more important that what anyone else has to do today. If it were, you'd be in a helicopter, bypassing ground traffic, or have flashing lights and sirens. Sometimes I try and rationalize and say, "Well, maybe that person's relative is in the hospital and they're rushing to see them." But sometimes, I just get the feeling that isn't true. And will it really help that person in the hospital if you get yourself killed driving like that to see them? Maybe it's just me, but I really don't think it will help anyone.

Please, for the love of all that is wonderful and chocolaty, could we all just respect the rules of the road AND each other out there? I promise, it's not that hard, and you won't even miss those 5 seconds it takes to be safe.

Sarah in Dreamland. Again.

The other night I had a strange dream with cute-guy-from-work in it. We were studying to be lawyers - actually, he may have already been a lawyer and I was studying, along with this other very annoying girl. Fairly reminiscent of Legally Blonde, without the pink wardrobe and toy dog.

Anyway, I was pretty sure studying to be a lawyer was the completely wrong choice for me, and was having a bit of an existential crisis. Especially because cute-guy-from-work-and-part-time-dream-lawyer was warming up to me very nicely and he was, well, cute.

As with many of my dreams, there was also an awkward bathroom sequence. I forget the details, but I think they had put a stall into a old phone booth and you could see in through the glass. I'm pretty sure cute-guy-from-work-yadda-yadda also continued talking to me through said glass. Lovely!

Source

I mean, it's not like I have much dignity left in the dream world (or real world, for that matter) anyway, so, what's an awkward bathroom experience with a cute lawyer who I also happen to work with in real life?

Then I woke up.

Kind of anti-climactic, no?

Yeah, it is. But it's all I've got for the moment!

Road Rages

I can say for certain that my mouth is never filthier than when driving. I scream and curse and insult like no one's business. And while I readily admit I am far (very, very, very far) from a perfect driver myself, something happens to me when I get behind the wheel wherein I lose all my compassion, empathy and understanding. Unless of course you are roadkill. Then I grab my heart and say "I am so, so sorry little animal." Yes. I actually do that.

Here is a brief and, most likely, incomplete list of things that make me wish other drivers had to wear zap collars and I got to control the remote:

People who brake before turning on their directional.

People who don't use their directional at all.

People who, while speeding right along, change lanes suddenly because they're too awesome to brake, leaving you, the person behind them, barely any time to brake yourself because YOU HAD NO WARNING and the cars in front of you are at a complete stop. Win. (not.)

People that don't have their lights on when it is dawn, dusk, or dark out, or when there is inclement weather. Dude, I know you think you're the center of the world and everyone is looking at you in your fancy blends-with-everything beamer, but actually, we're not. And we can't freaking see you!

People who Jersey Merge (a.k.a. cross all three lanes of busy highway traffic in one fell swoop).

Especially people who Jersey Merge from an on-ramp to the fast lane, trying to beat an 18-wheeler but not thinking that perhaps there is a person in the fast lane on the other side of the 18-wheeler, who is, as the lane suggests, going fast and you may collide with due to your asininity.

People who go slow in the fast lane.

Tailgaters. (this one might annoy me the most, actually.)

People who don't speed up on the on-ramp to merge with highway traffic.

People who brake for absolutely no apparent reason.

People who fail to understand that merging is like a zipper. A zipper, people!

See how well that works?!

So, there you have it. Often, after cussing out everyone in the cars around me with unnecessary vitriol, I arrive at my destination, get out of the car and think, "That may have actually been a little excessive." It's likely that if I ever see you on the road I will lose my ish at you too (though you'd never know - I'm not a fan of certain hand gestures, or yelling with the windows down), but take heart! It really isn't personal. And I'll like pull a foll-ass move myself, which you can lord over me later. Though, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't. I have an ego to feed, after all.