ahhh

Here i am, wrapped in the warmth of the family vibe...yes, they are all slightly crazy - we were the original family to put FUN in dysFUNctional...and so far it is just my dad, his brother and one sister, their spouses, and one unruly cousin...oh, and 3 dogs and a bunny named flopsy. Houston is a miserable soggy dreary mess and it is 3am, and I am WIDE AWAKE. By the other 90 eleven billion cousins show up tomorrow, the weather won't matter...The griping and moaning and bitching and complaining, and the entire 1,093 mile drive will be worth it! I am nothing without my kooky family!

so, in case I miss ya later, and previous grinchy post not withstanding, MERRY CHRISTMAS to you and your loved ones! I hope Santa, or whoever, grants all your wishes, and you have happiness and peace in spades.....

Love,
Sara

ho ho ho

I am sitting at starbucks wearing my grinch shirt and if one more person smiles jolly-ily (??) at me and says how much they loooove the grinch, I will smack them. I come here to work, believe it or not, the quiet music - the dim hub bub of people talking and coffee grinders going is the "white noise" i need to focus on this BORING data entry I have to get done, but seriously...the grinch HATED christmas, the whole christmas season...now please don't ask why, no one knows the reason...although I have an inkling. why do people think you ONLY have to be nice and SAY something to people when they leave your establishment at the holiday time? Why can't we be nice and say thank you, have a nice day ALL the time.

ok...enough of this. I mainly wanted to have at least one more post in 2009 than I did in 2008, and this is it....I am driving to Houston on Tuesday....and then its the beginning of the REAL travels...

alrighty then....it's up and let 'em at me...and go ahead, I dare you to smile at my shirt!

SSP

A Close Call

Last night I went out to dinner at the Old Pueblo Grill with my friend E. She used to live in town and moved to Portland a couple of years ago, but comes back to direct shows every so often. We had a delicious dinner (I had southwestern chicken parmesan with green chili mac and cheese and she had some avocado cilantro chicken thing), and then I ran off to the theatre to see her show while she paid the bill. Sadly, I was 10 minutes late cuz I couldn't find parking, but they snuck me in. It was The Pillowman, which is NOT a lovely, sweet play, by any stretch of anyone's convoluted imagination but it was well done and I enjoyed the uncomfortableness of it.

So, I am driving home, glancing ever so often at my passenger seat to make sure my leftovers don't slide off the seat, and suddenly I notice flashing lights in my rearview mirror! Son of a bitch! I have no idea how fast I had been going, but I put my blinker on and turned into a 7-11. My heart is pounding and I am worried...I know my car insurance is paid up but I don't have the current paper showing it...and a couple of other things I have been doing kinda under the table to avoid detection....so yeah, I am sweatin' as the cop approaches me.

"Do you know why I stopped you?' asked the cop

"not a clue," I replied.

"Do you remember when you turned onto this street from that street?" he asked. I am in the University of Arizona environs and navigating these streets filled with bicyclists and crazy drivers (11 pm on a saturday night), is tough enough as it is.

"when you made your right hand turn, you didn't turn into the right lane...in fact you turned into the median." He said. Now, I know I make wide right turns, cuz I can't see the front right of my car, as I sit so low, and I have run over the curb on more than one occassion, but seriously, the MEDIAN?

"I don't recall that," I said honestly. He asked me if I had been drinking and I sorta scoffed and said No. He asked for license etc adn I gave him the license, got the book out with all my paperwork, knowing the insurance card was out of date...forotunately, I had ALL the other insurance cards in there (I have owned the car for 15 years, so there are a few of them) and start rifling through them. I give him the one expired 10/1/09 and he took it all back to his car

He came back a couple minutes later and said he was only giving me a warning and to be more careful. PHEW...yessir I said and got back on the road and went home to eat my left overs....

Now, sitting here, while very glad I didn't get a ticket, and you bet your butt I will turn more carefully from now on, but REALLY? that is why he pulled me over? Not a minute before I had turned onto the street, I had swerved around a bike riding homeless man who didn't have any lights on. Another car ran the stop sign, a car in front of my (after I made the turn), changed lanes with a signal. Was it really that bad of a thing? And I honestly did NOT turn into the median...But whatever...I am just glad I didn't get a ticket....or worse.....

Joy, Joie, Gioia, Freude, Alegria....

Anyway you say it, what makes you happy? What makes me smile? What makes me glisten and bubble - in short, what brings me JOY, asked Auds over at Barking Mad.

Let me tell you, I know Joy. I am a firm believer that you must endure the SHIT so you can recognize the joy when it comes your way. And I have KNOWN some shit. Just the way you have to sit through really crappy movies and horrible pieces of theatre, to KNOW good acting; just as you must eat a LOT of poorly prepared green corn tamales, so you know perfection when you taste it; so too, you must go through some bad bad STUFF to know the good STUFF it hits you in the face (or you trip over it, blinded by tears of frustration and sadness). So when I say I can recognize pure unadulterated Joy, you can believe me.

Sure, lots of money, fancy cars, nice shoes, fine food...those COULD bring me Joy...except I don't have any of those in my life on any sort of a regular basis. And yes, certainly my family....my darling nieces and nephews, and the cousins and aunts and my 92 year old grandma and my parents and siblings who STILL love me despite my efforts to push them all away...they are all surely a source of joy and happiness (and aggravation and irritation TOO I must admit). Having better health would certainly bring me joy, but since so much of that is beyond my control, (that is what I keep telling myself, anyway), I certainly can't base my happiness quotient on that "hope" or "wish."

But "Joy" is such a short, simple word. So the short, simple, yet truly CONCRETE answer to the question of "What brings me Joy" is: sitting on a rock on the top of a mountain. Something about the clear, cool air, the isolation, the simplicity, the trek endured to get there, whatever, it is my HAPPY place...I go there in my mind often, and physically not as much as I wish I could.

Sure, there are tons of awesome people in my life, and many chocolate-based recipes I look forward to testing out, and those lovely airplane upgrades and the luxury hotels with the really nice beds....these all make me smile....but for true, unconditional JOY.....just give me a rock above 10,000'

And YOU??

I had a dream

I had a dream last night...I dreamt that I was babysitting for Ryan over at Pacing the Panic Room. Don't ask me why...I don't live within 2,000 miles of he and Cole and LB and Tessa Tangerine, but there I was, in full technicolor - I could even see the pink in Tessa's sweet little cheeks, and LB's gorgeous rich brown eyes....

For whatEVER reason, I am there babysitting in the middle of the day. I can see the sunlight streaming through the windows and the light is radiant, just like in all of his photographs. I am sitting there watching TV, the kids are both in bed for some reason, and strangely, I am wearing my nightgown. There is a knock on the door. After I check to make sure the kids are still in bed, asleep, I go to the door and crack it open. Some guy is there trying to sell something though I don't remember what. SOME how, he entices me to come outside, and as I am walking with him across this parking lot, which just so happens to be Ryan's driveway, I notice a camper set up in the middle. I see Ryan sitting in there, and think "jeez, he must really NOT trust me if he has to SPY on me, but phew, I am glad he is sitting there just in case this guy murders me or something. "

The guy finishes his sales pitch and I run back to the house, and there is Ryan with both kids sitting in the play room (it was a lovely room, by the way) and he is PISSED that I left the house! I was desperately explaining to him that both kids were safe in their bed, sound asleep and I was only outside for 5 minutes and I KNEW that he was there....he was still mad, though, which I suppose I can understand....

Wonder what THAT dream means...

Ryan, if you read this, please know that I would NEVER leave the kids unattended...though I have been known to go outside in my nightgown.....