we were meant to live for so much more

[editors's note: this was supposed to post last night, but there was a problem with blogger]


I need to stop reading books about characters confronting their destinies--they just make me unhappy, because then I start panicking when I think about my own situation and the fact that life doesn't wait for you to figure out what to do with it. I actually like what I do at work, and find it interesting, and have every reason to be perfectly satisfied with it, and I accomplish a lot and am making serious progress with my career, etc. But, I have this lurking sense that I should be doing something else, that my fate (or my overactive ego/subconscious/whatever) demands a different path...and so when I'm reminded of that (such as when I read a book about confronting destiny), I suddenly become achingly unhappy with the pain of wanting something that I cannot quantify or name.

The longing to do something else is sometimes unbearably strong--like the strange urges I get to chop off all my hair, or move to a foreign country, or drive too fast through the foothills. All of my moves in the past year and a half have been triggered by this desire to do something wildly different from what I'm currently doing; yet in all cases, it was just a substitute for doing something that would actually get me closer to my destiny. It's like I keep choosing things that seem like what I should do (because they're hard/challenging) rather than what would be easy to do (because it may be my destiny). I don't know why I'm avoiding it almost as hard as I'm trying to embrace it, but I always avoid what feels right in favor of what feels difficult. I played the flute and piano growing up, even though my mouth was exactly the wrong shape for flute and my hands were too small to progress to octave playing; I chose SymSys for all the wrong reasons; I work in a field that I've never really felt passion for; and to be honest, even though I've never said it before, I think I would have liked Boston better and sometimes wish that I had gone to Harvard instead, even though I've loved Stanford and don't regret coming here.

Anyway, this won't be resolved tonight, and the regret that is clawing at my heart will eventually subside again into a dull throbbing that barely reminds me of its presence while I go about my successful daily life. Sleep will help; I always feel a bit ragged after a couple of days of early conference calls and late meetings, and so tomorrow should be better. I also have my first creative writing class tomorrow, and by the time I get home, Tammy will be here to stay with me for a week--and so life will be too fun for regrets. Yay.

what a concept...i could use a little fuel myself, and we could all use a little change

When I was in Iowa last week, I had lunch with my parents at Sharon's, the oft-discussed tavern in the back of the American Legion hall, where the menus are written on posterboard and tacked to the fake-wood-panelling walls, the main decorations are flourescent beer lights, and the waitress is charmingly obnoxious (although she is much-provoked by my father, so I can't blame her). I had never noticed the 'vegetable burger' on the menu before, but this time I did, and I commented to my parents that Sharon probably didn't sell many vegetable burgers, given the lack of vegetarians in the county. It was then that I learned that 'vegetable burger' does not mean 'fake burger made of vegetables'; instead, it means 'burger with vegetables' (in this case, lettuce, tomato, pickle, and onion). This actually makes a lot of sense; cheeseburgers, bbq bacon burgers, bacon bacon cheeseburgers, avocado burgers, etc., all denote what ingredients are included with the burger. Then again, a hamburger isn't made of ham, so perhaps I don't know what I'm talking about. The moral of this story, though, is if you are a vegetarian and you come to visit me in Iowa, you might want to bring your own entrees, since you won't find any substantial food in the restaurants in my hometown. Unless, that is, you can subsist on cheeseballs and breaded mushrooms, or french fries and iceberg-lettuce salads. Mmm.

I wasn't feeling well this morning, so I slept in and got to the office around 10:30. I more than made up for it by staying there until 11:30pm (with a break from 6:30-7:30 to run home, change into comfy jeans rather than my professional-seeming skirt, and grab some dinner). I have to be in the office by eight tomorrow, so I suppose I should go to bed. Hopefully I can get all caught up on my work this week so that I can have more free time starting next week; I am thinking about my romance novel all the time right now, and I want to strike while the proverbial iron is hot.

I leave you with the happy thought that, now that I have finished all travel for the foreseeable future, the TSA has lifted some of the bans on liquids, creams, and gels on airplanes. Look for another elevated threat level in December, since I'll be on my way home for Christmas then, but you can expect safe skies for the next few weeks. Lucky you!

for better or for worse

Is it a bad sign that my toes are still numb from standing around in my uncomfortable three-inch heels for eleven hours yesterday?

I'm back in California, after an uneventful flight that I was fortunate to make, given how much packing I had to do this morning. Yesterday was extremely fun, but I don't really feel like blogging right now. What I *do* feel like doing is writing my romance novel, but I think I should go to bed instead--I have a bunch of meetings tomorrow and hundreds of email messages to wade through, so I can't slack my way through my first day back in the office. But, you can see a few pictures from the wedding (as well as some random pictures from other activities this summer) below--and express your thanks to Katie for picking dress colors that match the scheme of my blog :)

Bedtime now, but I shall probably feel more talkative after a restorative ten hours of sleep. Goodnight!

Elaina, Katie, and I--unfortunately I have always been dwarfed by them, but our friendships have survived for over a decade despite my height deficiency. 

Me and my brother. 

My brother was not thrilled about Katie's nuptials :( 

Me and my friend Dave at Katie's wedding - Dave and I used to work at the convenience store together, back when I was the Pepperoni Princess. 

Downtown Seattle and the Space Needle--hello future! 

A few of the mafia kids in Seattle after Jasmine and Michael's wedding. 

Some of the random fireworks we shot off for Indian Independence Day. 

Claudia flying a kite by the San Francisco Bay (in July--many of these pics are rather delayed). 

The only good thing about Rawlins, Wyoming 

The house my father bought for a couple thousand dollars and moved to the round barn site--pretty sweet for the price of a designer handbag, eh? 

The Round Barn - if you have ever heard me complain about how the round barn managed to ruin most of my birthdays, you will be happy to finally see my nemesis. 

The view of my ancestral home from the opposite hill; the current house is obscured by trees, while the dirt pile has now been replaced by the beginnings of the new house (this pic was taken in July, so you can't see the new house yet). 

twist and shout

I'm exhausted, but I began to fear that a continued hiatus in posting might lead to a loss of my loyal fanbase. I spent eleven hours on three-inch glittery heels, trussed up in a corsetted dress that did wonders for my posture even if I was concerned about breathing too deeply...and it was all wonderful. Katie got married today, and the whole day was lovely; unfortunately I'm now running on fumes, since I spent last night with her after spending the day at a bridal tea/luncheon, the wedding rehearsal, and the rehearsal dinner (where her grandmother plied me with margaritas--that grandma can hold her tequila!). It was great to have one last night to convince her to run away with me instead of marrying James--I failed :( But, since we spent too much time talking, we slept for less than six hours, and I rolled out of there at seven to come home, take a shower, fix up my hair, grab my dress, and meet her at her hair stylist's to give her moral (morale?) support.

I can give a better recap of the wedding in the coming days--I have a couple of pics on my camera that I can post, and there are things that are worth sharing, but I *must* go to bed. I have to arise at seven tomorrow morning as well, since I have to finish packing and leave for the airport by nine. By tomorrow night, I'll be back in California! Then, it's business as usual, and those of you who live there should expect to see some of the truly awful movies coming out in the fall lineup. On those pleasant thoughts, I wish you sweet dreams--goodnight!

do you especially think i'm not a genius?

Today was a usual day in small-town Iowa; I woke up late, watched part of 'The Young and the Restless', took a shower, dolled up my hair and makeup--and spent a bit of extra time on it when I realized that I only have to make it three more years to *not* fulfill my senior prophesy. Some bitch on the senior yearbook committee wrote nice or at least normal prophesies for everyone in my class, but my prophesy would be that I would drop out of Stanford, move to Mexico, marry a goat farmer, and live in a barn, barefoot, with our four kids. Needless to say I was pissed, but the whole dropping out of Stanford thing didn't happen, and I don't think the four kids will happen either. Revenge was mine, of course, since she's not married to the guy she prophesied she would end up with, nor is she happily employed in Colorado; instead she's got two kids by two different fathers, and I believe neither of them is known. I shouldn't be happy about that. In fact, I'm rather apathetic about it. But, anyway, I digress.

So after cleaning myself up and donning my Versace sunglasses, thus becoming exactly the snob that my brother has accused me of being (but a snob with a heart of gold!), I went into town with my mother and had a lovely lunch at one of the two restaurants we always go to when I'm home. My father joined us a bit later, and I got to order cheeseballs--I only can get them here, since they haven't exactly taken California by storm. They're not the Cheetos-style cheesepuff variety; they're deep-fried balls of processed cheddar cheese. Mmm. My parents are clearly regulars, since the waitress knew to bring out an iced tea when she heard my father was coming. There were clearly other regulars there as well, as evidenced by the fact that a seventy-year-old man went back to sexually harass (jokingly, or at least non-threateningly) the waitress and she threatened to rip him some extra nose-holes with the oxygen tubes currently hooked up to his face. Ha!

The rest of the day was uneventful; I spent a bit of time on the phone with someone from work, and also spent a lot of time trying to plot out more of my romance novel. I'm backtracking a bit before starting again; I had started it during the National Novel Writing Month (two years ago! damn!) and didn't take a lot of time to plot then, but I wanted to do some character development before picking up the story again, since I feel that I don't know my characters well enough to write really effective or believable dialogue. Also, I like writing with a fountain pen in a lovely journal, but I don't want to write the whole book like that--scribbling down my character thoughts seems like a nice compromise.

My vacation is just flying by--tomorrow I have to spend cleaning up the detritus of my childhood so that my parents will have an easier time moving the contents of my room to the new house, and then I have wedding stuff on Friday in preparation for the actual ceremony on Saturday. Then, I go back to California! Sheesh. Too bad there's no beach here, and also too bad it's flippin' cold--I'm not used to taking vacations in non-warm, non-exotic locations :) Then again, with the amount of wildlife near the roads, this occasionally feels exotic--I'm probably in more danger of getting killed by an animal here than I was on that safari in South Africa, although I think I would rather have the drama of getting eaten by a lion over the mundane alternative of dying in a deer-induced car accident. Goodnight!

magic man

I'm in Iowa, home of my forefathers. I arrived on Saturday, after an exhausting journey marked by too little sleep and too much time spent on the shopping concourse of the Minneapolis/St.Paul International Airport. I had a fun time from 7-8am watching the woman working at The Body Shop explaining to all of her potential customers that she couldn't sell them anything in liquid, gel, or cream form--needless to say, she wasn't doing much business. I also bought a pair of sunglasses, and had breakfast at a restaurant; my layover was over four hours, which was frustrating, but somehow strangely relaxing. When I arrived in Des Moines, I went shopping with my parents, had a late lunch with them at our favorite restaurant (where the bar was playing the Iowa/Iowa State game, our big intrastate rivalry--the Cyclones lost tragically, much to the excitement of half the waitstaff and the chagrin of my family and the rest of the waitstaff), then came home.

Yesterday, my mom cooked an extreme amount of food for a joint birthday party for me and my sister. Then, I tried on my dress for Katie's wedding, which barely fit after my double helpings of ham, baked beans, scalloped potatoes, and lemon cake--but the dress fit like a glove when I tried it on this morning, so the stomach distension was apparently temporary. After my sister and her family left, I spent the rest of the afternoon napping. Yay!

Today, I went to a seamstress to get the dress shortened, spent the afternoon pretending that I was going to get up an accomplish something (but instead catching up on the soaps and watching Dr. Phil and Oprah), and then had dinner with my grandmother. You know you're back in Iowa when you can go out for dinner, both people can have chicken strips, baked potatoes, and iced tea, and the total for both people comes out at ~$12. I can easily spend that much on just myself for a meal out in California. Anyway, I came home, watched 'CSI: Miami' with my parents, and then played my gameboy.

It seems that I've completely reverted to my teen years--compensating for a lack of friends by spending too much time watching CBS and drinking tea. Actually, I had friends in high school, but none of them are here anymore--and when they were here, we didn't start hanging out a lot until I had a car, so the first couple of years of high school were characterized by a lot of 'Walker: Texas Ranger'. Yes, I watched his show before he was a cult icon...and I'm proud of it!

My vacation is going to go waaaaay too fast--it's not as relaxing as sleeping on a beach, but it's nice to see my family. Also, apologies for the lack of communication--my parents are having issues with their internet connection. Now, it's time for me to go to bed!

strange fruit from a forbidden tree

So, my birthday week (yes, I can drag my birthday across an entire week) has been relatively boring. That's been mostly my own fault; I haven't particularly felt like making lots of plans because I've been stressed about work, and I'm leaving tomorrow night for a sojourn in the land of my lost youth (a phrase that I continue to use with shameless abandon). So, I've done nothing more substantial than work, sleep, and read a bit to take my mind off work. I picked up a copy of 'The Areas of My Expertise' by John Hodgman, and I read about a third of it tonight--I had seen the author on 'The Daily Show' last fall, and thought he was hysterical, but the book had languished in my Amazon 'things to buy later' cart until I bought it on impulse while ordering the second season of 'Lost'. You can tell it's my kind of book--in his description of the states, he claims that Iowa is 'The Hobo State'. I've never been happier.

Let's go to the mailbag...


9/12/2006 ('happy birthday to me') comments:

Beaver Creek, Co. said...
As mentioned in the phone message - when you get to IA, you will receive a birthday gift(s) that will make your friends envious. You will be proud. Very proud. It meets all appropriate requirements - pink, utilitarian, ridiculous, of display quality, etc. Guesses will be entertained. But my PC access is questionable at this time.

Editor's response: I mentioned this to Vidya, and her exact response was:
'Vidya: IT'S A PUPPY
!!!!!!!!!
I AM JEALOUS!
MAN, I LOWE PUPPIES'
I really hope it's not a puppy. I have no idea what it is, but if it's a pink, display-quality (which probably means lapdog-sized) puppy, I'm not going to be thrilled.


felicia said...
70 is a little young to be in a nursing home, don't you think? why not shoot for 90? happy birthday, sara!!!

Editor's note: aim low and you won't be disappointed.


9/11/2006 ('look into your heart') comments:

Sammi said...
youre not that old aunt sara but i can see how u feel old considering your oldest neice is a FRESHMAN in highschool...remeber those days?

Editor's note: that doesn't seem possible. In fact, I refuse to believe that it's true. If I never come home again, I can believe that my nieces and nephew are pre-teens forever.


8/31/2006 ('don't you worry what the bitter hearts are gonna say') comments:

Alan said...
It seems the Talbott family is bad news for restaurants. Years ago we ate at a place on the pier in Santa Barbara - up in flames the next week!

Editor's note: I'm not surprised by this--Walter could start a fire MacGyver-style with a piece of twine and some shards of glass, so it stands to reason that the combined powers of his family could result in a build-up of combustibility to the point of spontaneous ignition, even without twine or glass.


Okay, that's it for the mailbag and this post--goodnight, everyone!

happy birthday to me

My birthday/the national day of mourning is officially over, and we can all return to our regularly-scheduled lives. I'm glad that I'll hit all of my milestone birthdays on milestone anniversaries of 9/11--I'll turn 30 on the 10th anniversary, 40 on the 20th, etc. Hopefully I'll be one of those really cranky, obnoxious seniors, so that when I'm 70, I can make nasty jokes about the twin towers while the staff at my nursing home is trying to get us to make 50th anniversary collages or some shit.

Today was nice, albeit tame; I didn't clean up my kitchen tonight because I went out for an unexpected dinner with Terry and Claudia, and then had to work when I got home, so my kitchen is quickly turning into a biohazard. I have to clean tomorrow before I end up with cockroaches, mice, or other vermin--nothing drives me crazier than a dirty kitchen, so I shall overcome all of this tomorrow. Now, though, I should go to bed, since I have a conference call in five hours. Thanks for the birthday wishes, everyone!