Sarah Answers, Part Three of Many

Round three...

Anonymous asked, "Are you happy?"

I am. My brother P said to me last month, "Sarah, I have never seen you looking so well and so happy. You just have this energy about you. Sister, you glow."

With the exception of the boyfriend, I have everything I could want or wish for in life. It may not come across in this blog because I spend a lot of time sorting out my fears and feelings. I have a career that I get up and go to every morning without thinking of three reasons to call out. I have great friends. I have a balanced bank account. It's a very selfish life, but I spend time the way it I want it.

Martha asked, "How do you become content with current life situations?"

Martha, I'm not a wise person by any means, but I do know this: never become content. Let me repeat this-- never become content with current life. Always strive for better. I know you've had a rough time since I started following you with your job and roommate situations. I too want you to have the Desperate Housewife life.

You were scared of driving and look at you now-- you have a car and hours logged behind the wheel of those scary big work vans! You worked on your fear! I'm so proud of you! Strive to get the job you really want and with that you'll be able to get another kick ass roommate. Don't settle if it doesn't make you happy. When you're truly happy, people will naturally want to be around you and hopefully get a little of what you have.

"How do you move on from a romance that you feel like you never should have left?"

I love these romance questions. I think they are so funny because I don't know what the hell I'm doing most of the time. If I had really wanted it, I could have had the husband and house thing by now. There are two relationships I walked away from that I know would have ended up that way.

This is how I moved on: I drank a lot and found someone new to sleep with. Not exactly the healthiest of ways, but it worked for me.

Think about it like this, and I didn't learn this until I had years of perspective after the relationships were over: when it came down to it, you and I couldn't commit. I didn't want to acknowledge it at the time, but those people weren't right for me. It didn't mean I didn't love them and care for them, but in the long run, they wouldn't have kept me happy. It might be hard to see it because you still care for him and miss him, but there was a reason you didn't commit.

Rocky Mountain Princess asked, "Do you let people you know in real life read your journal? Who are they and why?"

No. No one I know in real life has access to this blog or even knows about it. I actually keep a separate blog for that. I lead two lives: a public one and a private one. Like I've said, I'm fairly secretive. You should feel lucky though, you get access to all the dirt and they don't. :)

Do you tend to stereotype people?

I do, is that a bad thing? Most stereotypes are founded on some matter of pattern or truth. I am a upper-middle class white girl. I was a debutante, my university was paid for by my parents, my Scotch-Irish ancestry can be traced in America back to the 1620's. I come from a very prominent southern family and I could join the Daughters of the Confederacy if I ever choose. I pretty much fit my own stereotype.

"Describe a typical evening in the life of Sarah."

After work, I hit the gym for either ballet or yoga. Then I drive home and take my dog to the park for her walk. At 7:30 I turn on Geraldo and cook dinner. I absolutely hate him, but I watch every day to mock him. Eating is more of a formality since I live alone and it's usually tuna salad or Hamburger Helper-- nothing fancy. Depending on the day of the week, I either watch TV or pop in a movie from my Blockbuster online membership. By 11 PM, I'm in bed falling asleep to one of my TV series I have on DVD. I'm very simple during the week and I like it that way.

"Do you REALLY like those tall, scary, neck-breaking shoes or is it just a societal thing you've been suckered into?"

I love them! They make me feel sexy. Last night I walked over a mile in them going and coming back from the bar. My mother hates them because she thinks I'm going to break an ankle in them. My friends hate them because I'm fairly tall as it is and three inch heels makes me soar above them. I'm actually in a bit of a dilemma because I have a date tomorrow with Adam (!) and I'm the same height as he is and I don't know if I should wear heels or not.

Sarah Answers, Part Two of Many

Round two...

M asked, "Favourite band?"

Most people have never heard of him, but my favorite is Butch Walker. He had some success about five years ago in a band called The Marvelous 3, but he has since gone solo. The Marvelous 3 played anthem rock as a throw back to the 80s hair metal scene. Their concerts were absolutely amazing and they would have explosions in one song and snow in the next.

As a solo artist Butch Walker has gone much more indie, but it's still great stuff. He's best known these days as a producer for most of the American pop punk scene: Avril Lavigne, Bowling for Soup, Pink, Rock Star: Supernova, and Pete Yorn.

Other bands I'm big on right now: Beck, Mint Royale, and Liz Phair's "Exile to Guyville" hardly leaves my 6 disc player.

"Favourite movie genre?"

I'm going to have to stay with the classics. I'm a bit hard to please when it comes to films because I've seen so many of them, but those that stand the test of time rarely disappoint. Gone with the Wind, The Apartment, Casablanca, and The Godfather are all wonderful.

All-time favs: Uncle Buck, Amelie, True Romance (if you haven't seen this, I insist you do. Written by Quentin Tarantino with and all-star cast before any of them were famous) National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, Donnie Darko, and The Royal Tennebaums.

Nick asked, "Where do you see yourself in five years time?"

Christ. Ok. I'll be in my thirties then. Hopefully I will own a condo in the city and I'll still be pounding away at my job for The Man. I will also be a little more well traveled. I'll probably still be visiting the bars, I'll have given up beer by then due to the fact that my metabolism has begun to slow and I'll become one of those people who is able to sip on alcohol on the rocks. Whisky or bourbon probably. Still single, but better dressed.

"Do you believe in love?"

No. But I so want to be proven wrong. Love and I have some issues. I realized that I have never actually been around love. I don't remember my parents being together. My mother remarried a man she didn't love "to give me a father figure" (no guilt being put on me there). My father was married to my step-mother for 17 years before he could tell me that he loved her ( That was sometime in January--they married when I was 8) And I never had a roommate that was in love. So I've never been around it. I learned about it from TV and movies and I believe I'm ruined for life because it turns out that isn't love either. Fact of the matter is Lloyd Dobler does not exist.

"What is it that you most want in life?"

I want to be happy and fully independent. I believe I am both.

"In terms of guys: Good looking or wealthy?"

Either answer is going to make me look bad. I think I would choose wealthy. I really do get turned off when I meet men that make less than me. First of all, I don't make that much. I'm just really good with budgeting. But if he makes less than me than we can barely support ourselves, much less children should I ever decide to squeeze one out. I like the idea of the man being a provider and with that a sense of monetary security.

I've dated the starving artist before. Twice. It fucking sucks. Paying someone's rent for them isn't sexy. And the song dedications don't refill your bank account.

"Full head of hair or bald?"

I have a full head of hair. Oh, on men? I've broken up with a couple of perfectly nice guys for no other reason except they were bald. Like Bic bald. I'm just not attracted. Male pattern baldness is fine-- male pattern baldness can even be cute. I just don't see myself starting a relationship with Mr. Clean.

"Shaved or a la naturel ;)?"

Where is the hair in question? Below the belt, but above the knees? Better be kept tidy. On the face? Shaved. Although I find the five o'clock shadow hella sexy, my skin is too sensitive to be in contact with it. Back and shoulders? Yeah you got to take care of that too. Remind me sometime to tell the story about my friend Matt and his hairy ass, it's hilarious. Chest hair can be natural, as once again stubble is not compatible with me.

Gabriel K. asked, "All I want to know is what your real name is."

I answered you via e-mail. Nice to meet you :)

Sarah Answers, Part One of Many

Thanks for giving me so much to do!!!

I am going to answer out of order because some questions demand a lot time, but I will get to them all.

Anonymous asked, "ok, an easy one for starters..... where are ya sarah?"

Easy indeed. I live in Atlanta: home of the 1996 Olympics and Whitney "crack is whack" Houston and Bobby Brown. I absolutely love living inside the city because there is always something exciting going on. Like the time Bobby Brown's nephew got stabbed in P Diddy's 5 star restaurant, Justin's. Yeah...

Indiana asked, "Favourite sex position and why?"

Way to go straight to the perv :). My favo(u)rite position is doggie style, especially this past year where sex has been less emotional. Not only do I love the angle, but I also feel less vulnerable with my belly and my chest facing away from the man in question. I just feel too exposed with that part of my body open to him.

Phil asked, "What do you put on your hotdog?"

First off, I found this pic last week of Phil eating a frankfurter in NY and I had a fit over his caption. Personally I like onions, chili, and mustard.

"Cam and Justin Timberlake. Do you want them to make it?"

No. Celebrity breakups make me feel good about myself.

"Which member of the Breakfast Club is the closest representation of you when you were in school?"

Brian, The Nerd. Sigh. I mean I never cried over an elephant lamp, but I grew up under a very strict roof. I wasn't allowed to wear certain clothing (My mother once called me a hooker when I wore a spaghetti-strapped shirt if that gives you any idea). I was a goody-goody to the extreme, but I managed to be stealth enough that I never got picked on.

Ask Desperate Sarah

I'm not feeling creative this week. I've been asked to write some articles for an online dating website and all my creative juices are going to that. I also don't have any self-indulgent conversations to post.

So it's time for Ask Desperate Sarah Anything.

Leave me a question in the comments section and I will do my best to answer it honestly and openly. Obviously questions like "What's your social security number?" or "What's your address?" with be ignored. But perhaps there is something you're curious in knowing about me. Or maybe you want advice on how to react when your grandmother gives you yet another flannel nightgown this Christmas.

For all you lurkers, this is your chance! Question anonymously if you must, but question away.

Go on, I dare you.

And this is where I should have lied redux

We've played this game before.

I'm not a liar. It's not that I'm opposed to it, I'm just really terrible at it. Let's just be clear that I would totally lie if I could get away with it.

So Adam calls for the first time since the unmetioned naked activity:

Adam: Hey.
Sarah: Hey stranger.
Adam: Whatcha doin?
Sarah: Having a debate with an Australian about spitting versus swallowing.
Adam: ...
Adam: ...
Sarah: ...
Adam: As if there's even a debate!

30 minute chat but still no date invite. Actually not a shocker considering.

I love to iChat

Talking online is so much funnier than talking in person sometimes.

Check out this pearl of wisdom from Angel Girl while discussing the new season of Grey's Anatomy:

Penitence

I woke up Sunday afternoon feeling hungover. There wasn't a drop of alcohol in my system, that's just how I feel when I sleep too much. The dog had moved from under my bed to the foot of my bed, ready in an instant to go outside when I got up.

I padded into the living room and squatted down on the floor where my computer is tucked away in a corner. My apartment isn't big enough for a desk. I began my morning rituals: check the Hotmail, check the Gmail, and moderate comments. There wasn't much on a Sunday outside my Word of the Day e-mail (vernissage : a private showing or preview of an art exhibition).

I lazily clicked over to my MySpace. I hadn't been on much recently, but I checked just in case. In my inbox was an e-mail marked "Hello..." from an unrecognizable boy. It's probably just one of those "You're hot, let's chat" e-mails, I thought. I opened the letter preparing for an ego boost. Instead, I got this:


Huh? What is he apologizing for? Sending an e-mail after I went to bed? Who is he?

I clicked on his profile and scrolled down to the schools section. I went to high school with him. I scrolled up and looked at his friends list and I knew who he was. He and I had one date 10 years ago when I was 15. Almost 10 years ago to the day. We went to a haunted house with a group of friends. After the date he started ignoring me at school. He said he didn't want me as a girlfriend.

"Well fine, let's be friends then."

He slammed his locker door shut and began walking to class. I followed him. "You don't know me," he said quietly.

"There's time for that. We can get to know each other." Oh god, even I wouldn't have been friends with me back then.

"Look, things just got out of control that night," and he disappeared in the classroom, leaving me in the hall.

It happened a few times when I was in high school. A boy would like me and go out with me exactly once. His friends found out and teased him mercilessly because I was too plain, or not popular enough, and he would never speak to me again. To everyone's surprise, I was a late bloomer and this isn't the first apology I've received through MySpace.

I haven't seen him in 8 or 9 years and I hadn't even given him a single thought in all that time. My eyes stung. Nothing makes me upset quicker than feeling validated. I was right in being hurt when he did that. I was right when I cried in that class we shared two periods later. I wasn't being silly.

I got up from the screen and made myself a bloody mary. Sucking on an olive, I responded, "Apologize? For what?" I at least had to make him say it.

Why do people feel the need to apologize for something they did too many years ago? Do they really want to repent?